That night.
Iron Sir returned to his office after a whole evening of work.
The computer showed the scene inside the Detention Room.
A subordinate warned him worriedly, "Sir, I've heard Old Ninth is unpredictable. Putting them together like this might start a fight."
"Good if one or two get beaten to death." Iron Sir cast a disgusted glance at the people on the monitor.
To a cop who genuinely wanted to maintain law and order, the Four Elders were a cancer.
If Old Ninth really beat them to death, he could ask for nothing better.
"Everyone's working overtime today. Watch Old Ninth and the Four Elders, and make sure you record every word they say."
Once everything was arranged, he pulled two chairs together with practiced ease and lay down fully clothed.
"D-don't we need to go back to the murder scene to collect more evidence?"
A subordinate looked at his superior, whose eyes were already closed, and asked curiously.
Could they find evidence just by watching Old Ninth and the others?
"Little White Tiger is practically the forefather of hired guns. If they really killed someone, they wouldn't leave evidence."
"Someone will come bail them out tomorrow. Let's see whether the Four Elders can get them talking tonight."
That was also why he had deliberately put both sides in the same Detention Room.
Both sides were angry. Old Ninth might just tell the Four Elders the truth.
"Heh. Build bridges and mend roads, and you won't even have a body left. Murder and burn, and you end up rich and powerful. Where's the justice in that?"
Iron Sir slowly turned over, his tired eyes filled with frustration and resentment toward reality.
For anyone with a sense of justice, this world was hell.
Without the strength to stand up