"That’s not necessary. There’s surveillance here."
After reviewing the hallway surveillance footage, Alvin Morgan pointed to a figure on the screen. "It was Kevin Whitlock who took your garbage bag."
The agent’s mory was suddenly jogged. "Oh, that’s right! Whitlock was here earlier. He said my room slled too strongly of instant noodles, so he took out the trash for ..."
"What was he here for?"
"He said he needed to interrogate a prisoner and asked to turn on the surveillance for the interrogation room."
Alvin Morgan and Aurora Sinclair returned to the cri scene.
The walls of the interrogation room were blackened by a micro-bomb, and a large pool of blood stained the floor.
The tallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air. Two agents were crouched inside, searching for evidence.
The dical examiner had already taken the body for an autopsy. Now, a chalk outline marked where it had lain.
Aurora Sinclair and Alvin Morgan donned masks and shoe covers before stepping inside.
The interrogation room’s walls were constructed from concrete and a special tal alloy, making them not only soundproof but also blast-resistant.
The explosion had only managed to char the surface of the walls.
If the agent hadn’t been standing right against the wall, he likely wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong inside so quickly.
"Where’s the audio recorder from the monitoring room?"
"Burned to a crisp. We checked—Whitlock never turned on the audio recording."
Alvin Morgan nodded, then bent down to continue examining the scene.
Beside him, Aurora Sinclair was also helping him search for sothing. At last, in a dark corner, she found fragnts of a handcuff.
"Morgan, I found it."
Using a small pair of tweezers, Aurora Sinclair extracted a minuscule square chip from within the charred handcuff fragnts.
The corners of Alvin Morgan’s lips turned up. He strode over and had her place the tiny chip into the plastic evidence bag he was holding.
"What is that?" Marshall Shaw asked, his face a mask of surprise.
"You’ll find out in a minute."
A mont later, Beta Morgan brought over a special black device. Alvin Morgan inserted the chip, and soon, sounds began to emanate from it.
"This is..."
Beta Morgan said proudly, "These are recording handcuffs I designed. We put them on her back in Silverwood."
The recording was very long, covering about three or four days.
Marshall Shaw suggested sending this crucial piece of evidence to the Bureau’s main forensics departnt, but Alvin Morgan refused.
"We’ll listen to it right here."
Marshall Shaw caught Alvin Morgan’s aningful gaze, and his expression grew taut. He nodded in agreent.
The group returned to the monitoring room, ready to listen to the recording.
Just then, Alvin Morgan’s phone suddenly rang.
He pulled it out and saw the na on the screen: Arthur Whitlock.
Alvin Morgan’s lips thinned. He swiped his thumb across the screen and answered the call.
"Uncle..."
Hearing that term of address, Marshall Shaw, who was standing nearby, instantly froze.
’This was the Patriarch of the Whitlock Family, and also one of the three special-grade inspectors of the Martial Affairs Bureau.’
But Alvin Morgan remained perfectly calm. After a few grunts of acknowledgnt, he ended the call.
Marshall Shaw asked cautiously, "What did Patriarch Whitlock say?"
But just as he asked, his own phone rang. He pulled it out, took one look, and his whole posture deflated.
"Director..."
"Yes, we’re investigating now."
"We’ve already found a key piece of evidence..."
Marshall Shaw’s tall fra hunched over as he took the call. By the ti he hung up, he looked like he had just perford so grueling manual labor, slumping bonelessly into a nearby chair.
After taking a mont to recover, he looked at Alvin Morgan with a desperate plea in his eyes. "Young Lord Morgan, we’re truly counting on you this ti."
Alvin Morgan shot him a glance, then put on his headphones and began listening to the recording.
Gradually, the sky outside brightened.
Marshall Shaw and Aurora Sinclair went out to buy breakfast for the group.
They had to drive for over ten minutes just to find a breakfast stall, a testant to how remote the detention center was.
After buying the food, on the way back, Marshall Shaw suddenly asked,
"Miss Sinclair, I’ve had a question on my mind. Generally, under what circumstances would your hair change color? I don’t an to pry..."
He looked cautious, and his tone had softened unconsciously.
Aurora Sinclair thought for a mont before replying, "When our emotions are unstable, or during a burst of Strength."
"The Spider Woman in the footage seed to have a sudden outburst. Why would that happen?"
"Kevin Whitlock might have said sothing to agitate her, or she could have been stimulated by so kind of drug..."
As she said this, Aurora Sinclair’s expression flickered. "Who provides the food for the inmates at the detention center?"
As if struck by a thought, Marshall Shaw slamd on the accelerator, speeding back toward the center.
The detention center had its own kitchen, with set tis for preparing three als a day. The at and vegetables were delivered daily by a designated person.
As they were driving down a stretch of road, they ca upon a serious traffic accident.
Marshall Shaw’s expression turned grim. He quickly pulled the car over and got out to help.
"That’s Mr. Cain’s car. He works in the cafeteria."
The area was remote, with almost no traffic. If the two of them hadn’t happened to be out buying breakfast, he might have died right here.
Aurora Sinclair and Marshall Shaw pulled the man from the wreckage and imdiately drove him to a nearby hospital for ergency treatnt.
Mr. Cain had suffered severe head trauma and was in a deep coma. He might end up in a vegetative state.
"Chief, the Whitlock Family is here. They want to process a hospital transfer for Whitlock."
This happened to be the sa hospital where Kevin Whitlock was being treated.
Upon hearing this, Marshall Shaw imdiately followed the agent toward Kevin Whitlock’s room.
Standing outside the room was an exceptionally stern-looking man who bore a strong resemblance to Yvonne Whitlock around the eyes.
He wore the black uniform of the Martial Affairs Bureau, and the insignia on his shoulder was distinctive.
It was the insignia of a special-grade inspector of the Martial Affairs Bureau. In terms of rank, they were on par with the Director, but they held slightly more authority, as inspectors were specifically tasked with overseeing the internal discipline of Bureau personnel.
"Inspector Whitlock." Marshall Shaw walked over and greeted him dutifully.
Arthur Whitlock’s expression was grave. He gave Marshall a glance and a nod.
His gaze then shifted to Aurora Sinclair, who was standing behind Marshall, and his expression turned peculiar.
’He hadn’t seed to expect running into Aurora Sinclair here.’
The incident with the Lowell Family in Kingsford had sent shockwaves through Veridia’s Martial World.
Everyone had once again witnessed the terrifying power of Sunstone. Now, the very ntion of anyone from Sunstone was t with terrified silence and hushed tones.
The leaders of the Seven Great Families had already discreetly warned their own disciples and vassal families not to offend the second daughter of the Sinclair Family of Kingsford.
As a result, the Sinclair Family’s status had risen significantly, elevating them to the verge of becoming a second-tier Great Family.
"Miss Sinclair, is Alvin Morgan here as well?" Arthur Whitlock spoke first, much to Marshall Shaw’s surprise.
’This Inspector Whitlock was normally stern and taciturn; he rarely initiated conversation. But now... it felt as if he were forcing himself to make small talk with Aurora Sinclair.’
"Morgan is at the detention center."
Arthur Whitlock seed surprised. He looked at Marshall Shaw. "Are you here for Kevin?"
Marshall Shaw glanced around, took two steps forward, and whispered sothing in his ear.
Arthur Whitlock’s face grew darker. "Where is he?"
"The ergency room."
***
「anwhile.」
The young agent from the monitoring room was taken into custody by Beta Morgan and his n and brought to an interrogation room.
A short while later, Alvin Morgan entered the interrogation room.
The young agent kept his head down, silent.
Alvin Morgan watched him for a mont before asking coolly, "Why did you kill the Spider Woman?"
"She was going to kill Whitlock, so I hit the detonator in a panic," the young agent argued, his face ashen.
"Why are you lying?"
"I was scared... that the Whitlock Family would bla ..."
The young agent clutched his head, his body trembling slightly as if in fear.
Across from him, Alvin Morgan had his hands clasped and was tapping the back of one.
"Who gave you the detonator?"
The young agent’s trembling stopped.
A faint smile touched Alvin Morgan’s lips. "Who’s pulling your strings?"
’The autopsy report stated there was only one bullet in the Spider Woman’s body, and only one casing was found at the scene. That ans Kevin Whitlock never fired a second shot; the collar detonated before he could...’
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