"A point, B point—the threats have all been eliminated."
Yuan Zheng used a ballpoint pen to cross out two yellow-marked "criminal hideouts" on the map.
He sat in the lounge area of an upscale hotel lobby. Several teammates had gathered around him of their own accord:
"I'm sure you all understand that this is my last time assisting the Inspection Department, and my last chance to earn a second-tier credential."
The other team members grew solemn. Qin Shi might have made it look easy, but temporary credentials issued specifically by the Inspection Department were extremely rare.
The Tai'an Metropolitan Area had a permanent population of roughly eighteen million, yet only seventeen thousand such credentials.
For outsiders, getting certified through the proper channels was already incredibly difficult.
First, you had to come from a squeaky-clean family. They checked three generations back, and no one could have a criminal record.
Second, you needed a letter of guarantee from a major company or a legitimate organization.
Finally, you had to meet the personal requirements.
That was why most auxiliary positions in the Inspection Department went to people from security companies or affiliated organizations.
Lone operators working on their own rarely got in. They were usually screened out from the start.
Many professionals who followed the Martial Artist path valued these credentials so highly for one main reason:
They carried official status and could serve as a protective shield.
If you occasionally made some harmless little mistake, or got caught crossing the line in a gray area,
law enforcement would usually consider you one of their own and let you off the hook.
The other reason was their prestige.
When wealthy clients chose a security company, the first thing they looked at was how many credentialed personnel it had.
After all, "vetted by the