There was a special interrogation room inside the airport.
At this moment, Han Bingjiang had been brought into the airport's interrogation room. Without a doubt, as a suspect, Han Bingjiang's hands had already been cuffed.
Two special police officers stationed at the airport were conducting a temporary interrogation of Han Bingjiang. Everything was being recorded by cameras to prevent any improper interrogation methods.
Han Bingjiang was clutching his hair with both hands. In just over half an hour, his face had already begun to turn pale and bluish.
"I've said it many times. It really wasn't me. I was framed."
"Then why did you wrap the murder weapon in your clothes and leave?" The interrogator clearly had far too many reasons not to believe Han Bingjiang.
"I..." Faced with that question, Han Bingjiang really wanted to slap himself. Why had he gone and done such things?
Had he been too clever for his own good?
No, it had merely been an instinctive act of self-protection. He had never expected to run into airport special police the moment he left. The timing had been just like a prewritten script, leaving Han Bingjiang no time to react.
"I'm exercising my right to remain silent." Han Bingjiang suddenly said, "I should be allowed to hire a lawyer."
The two interrogators exchanged glances, and one of them suddenly walked out. Not long afterward, the interrogator returned carrying a bag of items.
He took them out of the bag. One was a burned cigarette box sealed in a transparent bag, and the other was a matchbox.
The interrogator suddenly asked, "Do these belong to you?"
"No." Han Bingjiang glanced at them and immediately denied it.
However, his expression betrayed him. As an interrogator, it was easy to notice the trace of panic on Han Bingjiang's