As Zhou Quan walked into Cho Tat-wah's home, his gaze was immediately drawn to a wall in the living room.
There, a full ten memorial tablets were enshrined.
Nine of the tablets had names written on them, while the remaining one was blank.
At that moment, Zhou Quan could not help casting a strange look at Cho Tat-wah.
He naturally knew where those tablets had come from. They were all for Cho Tat-wah's former partners.
The blank tablet deliberately set aside was clearly something Cho Tat-wah had prepared for the next unlucky soul.
"Undercover work is a dangerous profession, after all."
Noticing Zhou Quan's odd look, Cho Tat-wah explained sheepishly, "These were all my former partners. You understand, Sergeant Zhou!"
Understand? Understand my ass!
Over his years working undercover, Cho Tat-wah had lost a full nine partners.
Who knew whether he was lucky or his undercover partners were unlucky.
With a solemn expression, Zhou Quan walked up to the altar table, counted out twenty-seven sticks of incense, lit them, and placed them in the incense burner.
These were all undercover officers who had died in the line of duty. It was only right to pay his respects.
His gaze returned to Cho Tat-wah, and just as Zhou Quan was about to ask where Chow Sing Sing was, something happened.
An utterly forlorn voice suddenly came from the little street-facing garden outside the living room window.
"It's too hard! These questions are just too hard! I can't do them!"
Well, Zhou Quan no longer needed to ask Cho Tat-wah.
Who else could that distinctive voice belong to but the Flying Tigers' number one killer?
"As you know, Sergeant Zhou, Edinburgh College is a prestigious school. They take schoolwork very seriously."
Cho Tat-wah gave an ingratiating smile and made excuses for Chow