"We have to admit it—we underestimated Zhang Chiguo!"
At the same time, inside the bar, the Drunk Investigator had smashed bottles all over the floor in his fury. After venting for a brief moment, he forced himself to calm down.
Suddenly, he let out a loud laugh, releasing his pent-up emotions and mocking himself in equal measure.
There was no point getting angry, he thought.
He had to accept it: he had underestimated Zhang Chiguo, assuming he was still the man he'd been three years ago—rigid, cold, and bound by the rules. But he also had to accept that Zhang Chiguo had become this cunning.
But since he had underestimated him, he could still adjust now. There was still time.
His gaze fell on Han Su's photo in the dossier. He slowly picked up the phone that had been ringing for a long time. By now, he had regained his composure, and his voice was as relaxed as ever. "No need to remind me. I know what's happening."
"Zhang Chiguo played a ruthless move, turning our secret meeting into a joke."
"But that's also a reminder. We were wrong to keep playing by the rules."
"Fortunately, that monster in D7 is a good opportunity. No matter how shrewd Zhang Chiguo is, he can't calculate everything."
"That monster is something he can't account for."
The person on the other end of the phone seemed to understand what he meant and hurriedly said something, sounding nervous.
But the Drunk Investigator laughed. "Yes, the people upstairs only want me to persuade him, not silence him forever. That's why I've had to talk him down again and again. But things have reached this point. What's there left to hesitate about?"
"Whatever means he used, from the moment he killed Sparrow, we had to face