The Forensic Doctor Better Than a Detective Chapter 396 - 237: The Person Is Gone

At this mont, in an urban village in the northern part of Jiangcheng.

Mr. Fu and Zhang moved with agility but with a hint of caution, both holding their phones.

They were quickly moving forward according to the navigation directions.

Their footsteps were silent yet carried an undeniable urgency.

Even though they wished they could sprout wings and fly to their destination imdiately.

They knew well that they had to blend in with ordinary people, pushing that urgency deep down.

However, upon closer inspection of the two, their small quick steps resembled those of professional speed walkers.

At this mont, Zhang was already panting heavily, the back of his throat burning, his chest heaving violently.

Between pants, Zhang rasped to Mr. Fu, "Captain, if we crack this case, you must give so credit."

"I’m almost worn out."

"This isn’t just walking; it’s more tiring than running a marathon. I feel like my legs aren’t even mine anymore."

He said, wiping large beads of sweat from his forehead with his hand.

The sweat glistened in the dim light, trickling down his cheeks and dropping onto the dusty ground.

Mr. Fu turned to glance at Zhang, teasing yet showing concern for his comrade.

"What’s the matter, young man, you can’t handle a bit of physical exertion?"

"I always invite you to work out with , yet you keep making excuses."

Zhang wore a pained expression, spreading his hands.

"Captain, I’m not joking with you."

"I’m not exercising regularly and spend all day in the office watching surveillance videos."

"I sit there all day, my body’s long since fallen apart."

"See, we’ve only walked a few steps, and I’m already done for."

Mr. Fu, quite a fitness enthusiast, often jogs through the streets of Jiangcheng after work.

This short walk was no more taxing than a leisurely post-dinner stroll for him.

Hearing Zhang’s words, he couldn’t help but sigh, "Alas, it’s all my fault."

"As a leader, I haven’t shown enough concern for you all."

"I haven’t ensured you have enough ti to exercise."

"Look at you; what state have you all gotten into."

"Once this case is closed, I’ll surely devise an exercise plan for everyone."

On hearing this, Zhang hastily straightened up, managing a slight smile.

"Mr. Fu, don’t put it like that. You have so much on your plate and still think about us, that’s plenty attentive."

"If I have the ti, I’ll definitely exercise more."

"Next ti, once we solve the case, let’s go running together."

The two continued chatting as they quickened their pace, reaching their destination as indicated by the navigation in no ti.

In front of them was a courtyard, with an old, ti-worn sign at the entrance reading "Scrapped Vehicle Storage."

Peering through the fence-like gate.

A dense collection of cars was parked inside, many models old enough to belong in a museum.

Many vehicles had peeling paint, exposing mottled rust.

So were dented beyond recognition, parts scattered, clearly scrapped "old-tirs."

Zhang took a couple of deep breaths, then whispered.

"This doesn’t feel right, these are all wrecked and scrapped vehicles. Are we sure what we’re looking for is here?"

Mr. Fu stretched his neck to peer inside, finding the gate securely locked.

He analyzed in a low voice, "If I were the culprit, this would indeed be a good place to hide a vehicle."

"But dumping a perfectly good car here would be more attention-grabbing, no?"

Saying this, Mr. Fu glanced at Zhang, speaking earnestly, "Zhang, this is the ti to think outside the box."

"A decent car here would stand out, but what if it was deliberately wrecked before being brought in?"

Zhang’s eyes flickered thoughtfully.

"Oh, that actually sounds plausible."

"However, that makes the cri quite costly."

"I rember we saw that the license plate was fake and the emblem was concealed."

"The car model is so old; it could have been deliberately aged and scrapped to avoid suspicion."

"But right now, this gate is locked. How do we get in?"

Mr. Fu’s eyes sparkled with an idea as he suddenly pulled out his phone, quickly dialing a number.

He cleared his throat and spoke politely, "Hello, yes."

Then he deliberately coughed twice.

"We have three cars needing to be scrapped, just wondering about the pricing?"

A man on the other end replied in a deep voice, "Have the vehicles gone through the formal scrapping procedures?"

"Everything’s been filed and approved, rest assured."

Mr. Fu quickly responded, "Great, about the pricing..."

"We understand it’s just scrap tal; a lower price is fine, just need a place for storage."

About 20 minutes later, a small van screeched to a halt at the gate.

A middle-aged man jumped out of the vehicle.

He looked around, not seeing any scrapped cars, and imdiately flew into a rage, cursing under his breath.

He then pulled out his phone, looking ready to redial a number.

With lightning speed!

Mr. Fu and Zhang made a swift move, flashing their IDs.

"Hello, we’re the police."

The middle-aged man, phone in hand, froze mid-air upon seeing the scene.

Mr. Fu looked at him, calmly stating, "No need to call back, I was the one who just called you."

The man’s face showed a flash of annoyance, clearly peeved at having his plans disrupted.

He asked irritably, "What do the police want with ?"

"What’s wrong with collecting scrapped vehicles, is it illegal?"

Mr. Fu responded with calm dignity, "The act of collecting scrapped materials itself isn’t an issue."