Logan Clark was caught off guard and dragged a few steps. Henry Carter, seeing things going wrong, immediately stepped forward to explain, “Foster's Team, listen to me, Luke Bolton and the other interns temporarily switched surveillance points with Little Logan, so the entrance of the neighborhood wasn’t his responsibility…”

“I’m asking you a question!”

Logan Clark strained to tilt his head back, explaining awkwardly, “Captain, please listen to me…”

Ryan Foster barked sternly, “I’m asking you what you were doing!”

He was half a head taller than Logan Clark, his shout echoing through the stairwell, making everyone around fall silent—no one dared to speak.

“…” Logan Clark finally lowered his eyes obediently. “Sorry, Captain, I’ll pay more attention next time.”

Captain Foster was not someone with an approachable appearance.

Even in Jin Hai, a northern city, his height was quite outstanding. Just standing there, he gave off a needle-like sense of oppression. Back in the police academy, he was always the main player on the department basketball team, and his cold, handsome face was voted the most attractive in the investigation department for four years running. After starting work, he even caused a stir within the North China police system—but because of his terrifying arrogance and willfulness, the first impression his face gave was always more fear than admiration.

Ryan Foster’s cold black eyes stared down Logan Clark, the surroundings utterly silent.

After a moment, he finally loosened his grip and gave Logan Clark a shove backward.

Logan Clark staggered a step, only to see Ryan Foster no longer looking at him. He pulled out the glass shard embedded in his arm muscle, wiped the blood off casually, and turned to walk toward the police car. “Group Three, stay and clean up the scene. The rest, pack up and go back to arrange identification. The informant says these bastards have old cases on them—run their fingerprints and DNA through the database. Have Old Scott from pretrial bring the files to see me, then notify the narcotics squad from Wu Qiao sub-bureau to come assist—Matthew Reed!”

The plainclothes officer who had called for backup earlier dashed down the stairs. “Here!”

“Arrange for interrogation overnight. No one leaves tonight—anyone who does doesn’t need to come back tomorrow!”

Matthew Reed didn’t dare say a word. “Yes!”

Luke Bolton and the other intern officers, faces long, hurriedly helped Logan Clark to the back. “Sorry, Little Logan, we’ll definitely treat you to dinner tomorrow night…”

Logan Clark had only joined the team recently, but he was already known throughout the South City sub-bureau as the good-natured guy with no temper. He seemed to accept the targeting and scolding from his superiors as fate, coughing as he waved his hand to show it was fine.

Matthew Reed nudged Ms. Carter, asking in a low voice, “This new guy actually seems alright—why does Mr. Brooks always pick on him?”

The “new guy” Logan Clark had only been transferred to Jin Hai for just over two months, apparently with some connections at the municipal party committee, brought into the criminal investigation squad at the direct request of the city bureau leadership. Although he was a “connected” hire, he clocked in and out on time, kept quiet, did his work honestly, never stood out but also didn’t drag the team down. If it weren’t for Ryan Foster constantly scolding him, he’d be completely invisible in the squad—a competent yet utterly unremarkable background character.

Ms. Carter sighed. “He’s the only one in the whole squad who got in through connections. With Foster's Team’s personality—can’t tolerate even a grain of sand in his eye—how long do you think he’ll put up with him?”

Matthew Reed sucked in a breath.

Ms. Carter lowered her voice helplessly. “They’re just waiting for him to quit on his own.”

On the small patch of open ground in front of the apartment building, people came and went, every order spreading quickly and being carried out. Detectives moved back and forth, suspects cried out their innocence and begged, some took photos for evidence, some collected materials, some contacted the bureau, some took temporary statements… Everything was so orderly and well-organized.

In a corner of the scene, Logan Clark snuck a glance at his phone—7:30.

“What’s up, Little Logan?” Luke Bolton was pretty sharp. “Got something at home?”

Logan Clark hesitated, letting out a noncommittal “mm.”

Although Logan Clark was always getting scolded by the Captain, he was actually quite well-liked by his colleagues—gentle and quiet, never argued with anyone, always willing to swap a long, boring night shift for a day shift; though not especially outstanding professionally, he was the kind of guy who’d run errands, buy water and food without complaint. In just two months, he’d collected 108 “good guy” cards from everyone in the criminal investigation squad.

“It’s fine, just sneak off.” Luke Bolton whispered, “Foster's Team has a meeting with the prosecutor’s office at eight tonight—I just heard him on the phone. He’ll be leaving soon. I’ll cover your night shift, just don’t mention it later, okay?”

Logan Clark hesitated a bit. Even though he’d only been here two months, he already understood his young boss’s temper very well—that absolute, uncompromising attitude, “overbearing” didn’t even begin to describe it.

But…

He opened that text from the afternoon again: [Nine o’clock, the usual place, starting at fifty thousand.]

Logan Clark glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Ryan Foster standing by the police car not far away, the child’s mother clutching his hand in tears, refusing to let go.

—This boss, said to be from an elite background, famous across North China, with a bright future ahead—in Logan Clark’s mind, he wasn’t worth fifty thousand, maybe not even fifty Zimbabwean dollars.

Logan Clark finally made up his mind, exhaled, and patted Luke Bolton on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

Luke Bolton gave him a reassuring look, watching as he slipped past the police line and disappeared at the neighborhood entrance, feeling proud to be able to help Little Logan, as if even the police badge on his chest was shining brighter.