Carrying a Jurassic on me
Chapter 903 - 497: Waiting Isn’t My Style_2

Chapter 903: Chapter 497: Waiting Isn’t My Style_2

They also inquired about many people, and there were those from Sancha River working in Nanguang City, although not many. But the fellow townsmen stayed in touch, making it convenient to search for people. What’s even more coincidental was that a young person’s home was also swept clean of money.

This young person also knew where the relatives of the family that ran off with the donations resided. Originally working in a factory, when they visited, the chap had already taken several days off, keeping an eye on this particular relative’s home for quite some time.

Lin Baoguo led his team directly to these relatives, and the family was full of grievances, cursing continuously as they spoke. They said the shenanigans their brother pulled meant they could never show their faces back home again.

In the vastness of Nanguang City, they were but a handful of people. They could run their legs off and still find no leads. Furthermore, it wasn’t certain whether the family that embezzled the funds had even fled to Nanguang City. With the country being so large, one could just find a remote corner to lie low, and who could find them?

Feeling desperate and anxious that their trip might end fruitlessly, they received a message from their station, telling them to come back immediately.

Upon returning, they learned the small case they left behind had unexpectedly turned into a major one.

Now not only the county, but even the city was alerted. Apparently, Young Master had mobilized a significant effort at home, and Provincial City sent an investigative team to assist with the case, stating their intention to carry out a detailed investigation.

The team was none other than the one led by Comrade Yang, who had arrived with an imposing presence and a mouthful of accusations about the small town police station operating in the shadows.

But then, something that left everyone speechless happened—the very person involved, Boss Yan, had suddenly vanished, nowhere to be found no matter how hard they searched.

From the start, Boss Yan had been the most crucial person involved in the case, and later when the criminals fled, it was also Yan who chased them down and brought them back. Regardless of Comrade Yang’s intentions in coming here, he would necessarily have to investigate before recklessly taking people away.

However, if one wished to investigate, it was impossible to bypass Boss Yan. They might want to nab a few of the cattle farm’s rustic folks and concoct some way to overturn this case entirely, but that was mere wishful thinking.

Looking at the lawyers and journalists from Hong Kong, especially one fellow who acted as if his camera film were free, carrying the gadget around and pointing it at people at every opportunity, accompanied by two beefy rustic bodyguards—guarding him as if he were a thief.

It was easy to imagine that if they acted as they wished, they had better be prepared for their names to be known far and wide.

The most critical issue was that all the unfavorable information against them was in Boss Yan’s people’s hands, and these people took orders only from Yan himself. Without finding him, no one arriving could be of any use.

Their last visit actually presented the best opportunity; they could have taken him away on any pretext. But now that matters had escalated to this point, such an action was no longer feasible, truly embodying the saying, "Opportunity lost is never regained."

If you asked who Comrade Yang hated the most now, it would be those people from Hong Kong. When they first arrived and couldn’t find Boss Yan, just having a chat with Heizi, they would wait outside. As soon as Heizi stepped out, they would bombard him with questions about threats and such, making them reluctant to inquire further.

Originally, Comrade Yang harbored different thoughts upon arrival, but only after getting here did he realize how unfeasible those were. Now, he harbored only one desire—to calm things down. He would deal with whatever came later. If they carried on this way, the situation would only escalate, becoming increasingly difficult to resolve.

The irony was that the very person whose word counted most—the person at the heart of all these machinations—was absent, rendering any strategies he might have moot.

Where was Boss Yan, who was on the minds of so many now?

Above Provincial City, a little black bird was tirelessly bustling about, darting east and west, nearly working itself to death. Busy by day, and busy by night, barely resting over two days.

Sitting and waiting—for Boss Yan that was tantamount to sitting ducks; not his style at all. In fact, that same afternoon they had taken the suspect away, he had flown to Provincial City, prepared to dig up something useful for himself.

For a fellow capable of "Seventy-two changes" and with enough energy to not sleep for days and nights without a hitch, digging up some gossip was a cinch.

Who pays attention to a little butterfly flitting outside the window or a small insect in the corner of a room when chatting, working, or making deals?

Who would suspect that the little butterfly, the small insect, could understand their words, secretly carrying a little recorder, tucking it under tables, sofas, or on top of cabinets to eavesdrop?

And who could manage to chase down a lead heard moments earlier, flying hundreds of miles to investigate and gather evidence, then zip back again to continue stealthily following people for new information?

Over these two days, Boss Yan’s recorder batteries went through half a box. There was also a small notebook brimming with quite a few entries.

Now the scribbles in the little notebook were all over the place—unintelligible to the average person. Lines like ’Documents of various sorts inside a cabinet in the kitchen of the XX family members’ yard’ or ’Shoebox under the bed in the XX room, filled with bills’ and ’A safe in a certain basement,’ among other notes.

These notes were taken for the time being, as the moment to act had not yet arrived. He felt he could wait a bit longer—perhaps new leads would emerge.