Chapter 68

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Chapter 68: Old Ma’s Howl of Despair

The ledger before him posed no real threat. Old Ma had managed the arms depot for over a decade without making a single mistake during inspections, and with retirement just around the corner, he felt relieved that no one could find fault with him.

The intelligent twin sister sitting across from him had no intention of engaging in an argument; instead, she casually flipped through the records page by page, pointing out discrepancies. “Here, here, bullets and grenades—none are past their expiration date, yet they are marked for mandatory destruction. How is this handled? The physical records match, but the numbers on the destruction orders show signs of tampering. There are also explosive demolition boxes, grenades, and two missiles—these requisition orders are all forged!”

Ignoring Old Ma’s increasingly pale and horrified expression, the twin sister continued to expose the flaws in the ledger and laid out the documents one by one.

“In total, there are fifty thousand bullets, two hundred grenades, five complete sets of parts for the Type 95 assault rifle, thirty-two grenades, fifteen explosive infantry landmines, one Red Arrow-8 anti-tank missile, and one Vanguard-4 portable air defense missile. The whereabouts of these arms are unknown. Can you tell me where they went?” The twin sister summarized the findings, her gaze on Old Ma carrying an invisible weight.

The wrinkles on Old Ma’s face seemed to collapse entirely.

“I-I!” Old Ma trembled, unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t pain he felt; it was fear. The numbers she reported and the loopholes she uncovered were known only to him, and he never expected them to be revealed.

Though the weather was not hot, Old Ma’s back was soaked with sweat.

Hmph! The girl stepped off Old Ma, who sank to the ground like a puddle of mush, overwhelmed by the shock the twins had brought, eclipsing any pain in his hands.

“I know I was wrong; please, spare me! I’m willing to refund everything! I’m about to retire—I can’t end up in prison!” Realizing that resistance was futile, Old Ma suddenly threw himself at the twins, kneeling, crying and begging.

With a glimmer of reason left, he understood that fighting back was useless. These twin girls were undoubtedly specially trained individuals, backed by some national agency—Old Ma didn’t dare to let his imagination wander further.

“Is it the one million stored in five different banks? And the three hundred thousand in cash? You don’t need to refund it; it has all been frozen!” The older sister’s nonchalant remark swiftly crushed Old Ma’s will.

“Spare me?! Ask the soldiers and civilians murdered by the grenades and bullets you sold!” The younger sister glared at the man who had sold arms, disgusted that he would abandon the safety of the country and society for his own selfish gain.

There might still be a few bad apples to unearth, but no matter—just follow the clues to uncover more.

“How is that possible? Didn’t they go abroad?” Old Ma stuttered, recalling a fierce-looking man who spoke grandiosely about only doing business internationally, never selling to domestic separatists. He remembered the intermediary, the charming Lele from the beauty salon, assuring him that those people were trustworthy and reliable.

Little did he know, there truly are no walls that can’t let the wind through; he hadn’t expected the national authorities to track him down so quickly.

“Abroad? Hmph! You’re too naive. Some of the weapons used in last year’s domestic terrorist attacks were provided by you. Just half a month ago, one of our J-10s worth seven hundred million nearly fell to that Vanguard-4 you were trying to sell. One hundred thirty thousand? How much damage have you caused the country for just that amount? You must have lost your conscience! Honestly confess, is there anyone else involved?”

The twin sister who had stepped on his hand ruthlessly stripped away the last remnants of Old Ma’s dignity, leaving him to envision his impending doom.

“Alright! Come with us!” Just like tying up a pig, the younger twin produced a pair of dark handcuffs and snapped them onto Old Ma, dragging his hundred-plus-pound body away without a shred of resistance remaining.

“Captain Feng, here are all the statements from the ‘Red Scorpion.’ The severely injured ones are basically…” Colonel Xie Fengdao, the head of the Intelligence Group, took personal charge of everything after the First Squad’s recent intelligence blunder. To atone for his mistakes, he took special interest in the ‘Red Scorpion,’ dispatching his twin informants for the main investigation.

In the underground base of “Night,” bright lights mimicking sunlight warmed the space. Even though they were underground and out of reach of natural light, the skin didn’t show any signs of pallor.

Captain Feng accepted the latest interrogation report from Colonel Xie, squinting as he read it carefully. Every soldier in “Night” could be seen as a king of soldiers; such honor isn’t typical for regular military conscripts, making every casualty weigh heavily on their conscience. The training for these elite soldiers is incredibly demanding.

The fate of the injured ‘Red Scorpion’ bandits was sealed; with honest potions and hypnosis, the military had more than enough means to extract the desired information quickly.

“Still digging into foreign influences; it’s too far away. Is there a way to deal with them?” Captain Feng’s brow furrowed deeper with each line he read. The responsibilities of “Night” covered both the western regions of China and beyond the borders; cooperation with neighboring nations was essential. After all, terrorists who illegally possessed arms were not welcome in any country or government.

Occasional large-scale crackdowns could use military exercises as cover, but they couldn’t hold military drills every day. Many things had to remain hidden in the shadows; if made public, it would attract more ambitious characters. This power, whether black or white, covertly maintained the unwritten rules, ensuring that anyone who didn’t follow them would be eliminated.

“The ‘Red Scorpion’ we exterminated last time was merely one of their smuggling groups. The true ‘Red Scorpion’ organization is vast and primarily relies on the illegal manufacture and sale of weapons, drug smuggling, and poaching. They have their armed faction and operate independently, capable of clashing with government forces while possessing a few armored vehicles and aircraft. They have been active along our borders in recent years, supplying arms to domestic and international separatists and nationalists.” Colonel Xie produced a storage card and displayed the information on the hundred-inch wall screen in the brigade commander’s office.

Colonel Xie found a compatible remote laser pointer from the floral stand beside the screen, selected a file, and opened it.

“Information obtained from national security, diplomatic intelligence, and Interpol shows that the current main leader of the ‘Red Scorpion’ is named Lawrence Cotler.” Colonel Xie displayed a long telephoto picture, slightly blurred but revealing a few images on the large screen. One, a chestnut-haired man with a friendly smile, dressed in fine but not extravagant clothes, resembled a prominent business figure. He carried himself with elegance and sophistication, making it easy for an unacquainted person to be charmed by his demeanor.

“Criminal organization leaders now resemble top executives of Fortune 500 companies. Such poise is not something an ordinary person can imitate; it truly shows the unpredictability of human nature!” Captain Feng expressed surprise at Lawrence Cotler’s appearance, jokingly observing how thin the line between good and evil can be—just a paper’s width apart; a mere poke can break it. Only self-interest remains eternal.

“Although intelligence indicates Lawrence Cotler oversees all operations of the ‘Red Scorpion,’ I have a sneaking suspicion that there are others behind him!” Colonel Xie dropped a bombshell, stressing that he had invested significant resources into this ‘Red Scorpion’ issue, and the fund allocation for informants exceeded last year’s general budget by more than five times.

The intelligence department had numerous intelligence nodes, seemingly ordinary people living regular lives. Special contact methods were only used when necessary, involving those outside formal ranks, including addicts, pickpockets, prostitutes, and even gangsters. As long as sufficient incentives were given, these individuals could gather intelligence in unimaginable ways. The so-called people’s war dictates that no matter how skilled spies or criminals are, they cannot always guard against everyone around them; with the lure of money, domestic intelligence organizations can form a vast network that spreads silently and pervades every corner.

Of course, all collected intelligence still required filtering to verify its authenticity, which demanded substantial effort. Each intelligence analyst must possess reasoning skills comparable to Sherlock Holmes.

Just imagine hundreds or thousands of Sherlocks working; that’s how formidable their analysis capabilities are—the basis for the vast and unobtrusive nets of justice.

Captain Feng nodded, being the leader of the “Night” Special Operations Team, his thoughts differed from the ordinary. In a short time, he grasped Colonel Xie’s hints, “I agree, true bosses always remain in the background. Although this Lawrence controls the ‘Red Scorpion,’ he’s still somewhat opaque and mysterious. But which organization doesn’t have deep backing? Despite having territory, armored vehicles, and planes, compared to so many organizations worldwide, that level of control over land and military strength is insufficient to confront the nation and more powerful groups. This world is about big fish eating little fish; without some background, you’d have been wiped out long ago.”