The crackdown on organized crime began with the arrest of the mother-in-law.

Chapter 975 Investigation of Interpersonal Relationships, The Deceased's Rented Room

Zhang Hui then presented information obtained from the tattoo shop, as well as the test results of leather fibers extracted from the deceased's fingernails—the same material as the uniforms of "Shisuda" employees.

"Contact 'Shisuda' headquarters immediately." Li Ming's voice came through the walkie-talkie. Half an hour later, Zhang Chunli's information appeared on the big screen: 29 years old, single, came to Dongchuan from a neighboring city three months ago, and rented a place in an urban village on the outskirts of the city. In his job photo, the young man was wearing a neat uniform, smiling brightly, and there was no trace of the old scars on his body.

"Strangely," Zhang Hui flipped through the file, "his emergency contact information was blank." Xiao Wang pulled up the surveillance footage, which showed that Zhang Chunli was last seen in public at 2:00 AM 21 days ago, riding an electric bike towards the eastern suburbs. "Retrieve all surveillance footage along the route, focusing on his driving path." After Li Ming gave the order, the criminal investigation team quickly sprang into action.

Inside Zhang Chunli's rented room, Xiao Wang and Zhang Hui meticulously searched every corner. The dilapidated room was piled high with takeout containers, and faded celebrity posters adorned the walls. Deep in a drawer, a well-worn diary recorded his daily life: "I got yelled at by a client again today, even though the security guard wouldn't let me in..." and "I lent money to a fellow villager, and I don't know when I'll be able to pay it back..." The words revealed the hardships of his life.

Suddenly, Zhang Hui found an iron box under the mattress. Inside, besides a few crumpled banknotes, was a yellowed photograph. In the photo, young Zhang Chunli was embracing an elderly man with white hair, against a backdrop of green mountains and clear water. "Is this his hometown?" Xiao Wang peered closer; on the back of the photo was a line of small writing: "2015, with Grandpa in Peach Blossom Village."

With the assistance of the local police, the two quickly contacted Zhang Chunli's grandfather. During the video call, the old man's cloudy eyes filled with tears: "Chunli has had a hard life. His parents died early, and I raised him single-handedly. Half a year ago, he said he was going out to work and could make a lot of money, and then he never came back..." The old man trembled as he took out a letter, "This is the last one he sent. He said he found a good job in Dongchuan and told me not to worry."

As the investigation deepened, Zhang Chunli's life trajectory gradually became clear.

Inside the dispatch room of "Shisuda" Dongchuan branch, the air conditioner's outdoor unit hummed under the heavy rain. Xiao Wang and Zhang Hui stood beside a control panel covered in electronic screens, watching the delivery routes constantly flashing on the screens, like countless flickering lifelines. Dispatch supervisor Li Jianguo wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled up Zhang Chunli's work schedule: "This employee had perfect attendance last month, working over 14 hours a day every day." He moved the mouse, and the densely packed order records on the screen were astonishing. "Look, just last week alone, he received 327 orders."

In the staff break area, several delivery drivers were munching on cold steamed buns during a break in the downpour. "Chunli, he's really bored," a middle-aged man with a scar on his face said, wiping his mouth. "Every day he's either delivering food by bike or catching up on sleep on the sofa." He pointed to a folding bed in the corner, its sheets worn and pilling. "Sometimes he doesn't even have time to eat properly, just a couple of bites of steamed bun." Another young delivery driver chimed in, "He always says he wants to save more money to build a house back in his hometown. But honestly, everyone's afraid to talk to him; there's always something indescribable about his eyes."

小王在张春礼的储物柜里找到一本破旧的笔记本，扉页上用铅笔写着&34;目标：50万&34;。内页记录着每天的收入：&34;7月1日，早7点-晚11点，接单42，收入387元&34;、&34;7月2日，雨，超时罚款2次，实得295元&34;。在7月15日那页，字迹突然潦草起来：&34;借出去的3万块还没消息，该怎么办？&34;

When the technical department delivered the call log, the entire criminal investigation team fell silent. At 1:43 AM on July 20th, Zhang Chunli dialed that anonymous number; the call lasted exactly 17 seconds. Li Ming repeatedly played the log; all he could hear was static and rapid breathing, ending with a dull thud like a heavy object falling to the ground. "What could you say in 17 seconds?" Zhang Hui frowned. "A plea for help? A threat? Or just a wrong number?"

Xiao Wang suddenly remembered the tin box he found in Zhang Chunli's rented room. He pulled up the yellowed group photo inside the box and zoomed in on the signboard in the background—"Hongfa Loans." According to the business registration records, this microfinance company had been shut down two years ago for violent debt collection, but the legal representative's information made everyone's pupils shrink: it was Zhang Fugui, the village chief of Taohua Village, Zhang Chunli's hometown.

The incandescent light in the interrogation room shone blindingly overhead. For the umpteenth time, Zhang Fugui wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, the silver bracelet on his wrist jingling with each movement. "Officer, I really didn't lie!" his voice trembled with tears. "I've been taking care of my mother at the hospital for the past month. You can check the nurses' station duty roster anytime!" Li Ming pushed a screenshot of the hospital's surveillance footage in front of him. The footage showed Zhang Fugui pushing a wheelchair through the hospital corridors, the time stamps accurate to the second.

“However, his village once called me and said they would use gold to pay off my loan. But I was drunk at the time and vaguely remembered that such a thing happened. That poor bastard wouldn't have any gold, and I didn't believe it at all. After that, I lost contact with him. The next news I got was that you came to me and said he was dead.”

Xiao Wang frowned and pressed, "Think carefully, what did Zhang Chunli say back then?" Zhang Fugui's Adam's apple bobbed, and he suddenly grabbed the edge of the iron table: "He spoke very quickly, saying, 'That gold can be used to pay a lot of money,' but before I could ask, the call was cut off." He seemed to suddenly remember something, "That's right! He mentioned 'the old place,' saying it was in the eastern suburbs, and told me not to tell anyone!"

The torrential rain poured down again, and the criminal investigation team's SUV bounced along the muddy country roads. Li Ming gripped the steering wheel, his gaze sweeping over the constantly flashing red dot on the navigation screen—the area Zhang Chunli was last seen in before his death. "We've checked the abandoned logistics park in the eastern suburbs three times," Zhang Hui said, flipping through the investigation report. "Could it be somewhere else nearby?" Before he could finish speaking, the car radio suddenly crackled to life: "Command center calling Team Leader Lu. The technical department found half a gold ring in a hidden compartment in the storage box of Zhang Chunli's electric scooter."

Under the cold light of the evidence room, the ring gleamed with dark red rust. Wearing white gloves, Xiao Sun placed the ring under a microscope; black fibers were embedded in the scratches on the metal surface. "99.9% gold content," he pulled up the test report, "but the surface treatment is very special, as if it had been burned at high temperatures." Li Ming leaned closer to examine it; the inner wall of the ring was faintly engraved with the character "福" (Fu, meaning good fortune), the handwriting identical to that in Zhang Chunli's diary.