Chapter Fifty-Two: Liang Shaoyun

After Huang Chao had arranged the work with the truck, he invited Li Changqing and Kelly Losetti back to his office to rest.

“You two detectives are truly remarkable,” he said, holding a cigarette as he poured tea for them while sitting on the sofa.

The speed of progress was indeed satisfying to Huang Chao—finding clues and locating the site of the submerged corpse in such a short time was impressive.

Kelly Losetti picked up the tea, gently blew on it, and took a sip. “Boss Huang, we suspect the murder was committed by an employee from within the dock. If it’s convenient, could you find a suitable reason to gather all the employees later? We’ll see if we can identify the killer among them.”

He then added, “Also, please arrange for a professional coroner at the funeral home to determine the cause of death.”

Huang Chao nodded. Neither request was difficult. As for the first, gathering the staff for a meeting was easy for a boss, with plenty of possible reasons. Regarding the funeral home, Huang Chao had already reported the case to the Federal Police Bureau. Hiring a coroner only required an extra fee.

Near the end of the workday, Huang Chao had someone spread the word—there had been a murder at the dock, and he needed to hold a meeting to emphasize safety. Except for a few who couldn’t leave their posts, everyone else was required to attend. All those who had worked the night shift two nights prior were specifically notified—these were the main suspects.

The meeting was held in a conference room within the small building. Many employees discussed the day’s events as they entered and took their seats.

Li Changqing and Kelly Losetti remained at the door, observing those who entered.

“See anything?” Kelly Losetti whispered.

Li Changqing shook his head. He had activated his spiritual vision but had yet to spot anyone suspicious.

“I’m back,” Tang Xiaoyu arrived just then, slightly out of breath. She took out a handbag containing two pistols, some ammunition, and Hu Xiong’s iron pellet.

“Here,” Li Changqing handed the second-hand revolver to Kelly Losetti. “You know how to use it?”

“My friend, my marksmanship is renowned even among the nobility of the Lamella Empire. Many lovely young ladies call me the ‘Sharpshooter Losetti’,” Kelly Losetti boasted as he accepted the gun, expertly inspecting it before frowning and remarking, “A Selt revolver—some of the finish is worn off. Don’t tell me you got this from a museum.”

As a noble of the Lamella Empire, Kelly Losetti was no stranger to firearms; he often frequented shooting clubs back home. Though the revolver was an old model, it seemed to have been produced within the last five years—perfectly serviceable.

At that moment, his gaze drifted to the black pistol in Li Changqing’s hand. “A Bart P3 military pistol?”

The Bart P3 was a powerful firearm, standard issue for the Federal Police and Army—far superior to the revolver in his hand.

“My friend, I think perhaps we should—”

“You’re the sharpshooter—any gun will do,” Li Changqing cut him off, having just spotted someone approaching. He warned, “Put it away for now.”

A young man, about twenty-five or twenty-six, was approaching the conference room door with an air of ease. Faint traces of sinister energy hovered around him.

Is it him?

Li Changqing’s heart sank slightly as the young man passed by and entered the room.

Li Changqing, Kelly Losetti, and Tang Xiaoyu did not go inside; they remained at the door, observing.

Huang Chao stood at the front, speaking emphatically, “There’s been a murder at our dock—something no one wants to see. Everyone needs to be vigilant. From now on, night shifts must be done in pairs…”

“Though our dock is busy, safety cannot be overlooked…” Huang Chao continued to lecture, while below the staff whispered about the day’s events.

The meeting lasted only about twenty minutes. When it concluded, the employees dispersed.

“Well? Any leads?” Huang Chao returned to the trio after the staff had left.

Li Changqing asked, “The young man who sat in the fifth row, second seat from the left, about twenty-four or twenty-five—what’s his name?”

There had only been forty or fifty employees, but Huang Chao hadn’t kept track of where everyone sat. Still, there were only a few young men. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “You mean Liang Shaoyun?”

He returned to his office, located the employee records, and pulled out a file. “Is this him?”

It was indeed the man in the photo.

Looking at the picture, Li Changqing asked, “Did he work the same night shift as the two victims?”

After checking the duty roster, Huang Chao nodded. “Yes, he was on duty that night. Detectives, do you suspect him?”

“May I look at his file? Also, do you know if there were any conflicts between him and the victims?”

The file was simple—just details like address, age, and any special health concerns; nothing in-depth. According to Huang Chao, Liang Shaoyun had only been working at the dock for about a month. He was unsure whether there had been any disputes.

“He’s scheduled to work tonight, isn’t he? Let’s keep an eye on him tonight.”

...

As night deepened, the dock grew quiet, a stark contrast to the daytime bustle. The night shift was straightforward—mostly guarding cargo, with the occasional late-night loading.

This evening, the moon was bright and clear, its light shimmering on the river, where the breeze sometimes stirred gentle ripples.

Liang Shaoyun patrolled the dock with a flashlight, as usual. Though there were security staff, their numbers were few. Petty thieves had often snuck in before, so nightly patrols were added to the workers’ duties.

Yawning, Liang Shaoyun walked among the containers.

Suddenly, he heard a dripping sound ahead.

“Who’s there?” He shone his flashlight forward, and to his astonishment, saw one of the men who’d drowned earlier that day—Wang Dafu.

Wang Dafu’s face was ashen, his body swollen from soaking in water, his clothes drenched and dripping.

Liang Shaoyun’s legs trembled. “Brother Wang, we had no quarrel. You were murdered—if you seek vengeance, find the real culprit. Why come to me?”

‘Wang Dafu’ slowly straightened, his voice hoarse, eyes bloodshot, and said, “Shaoyun, it was you who caused my death, wasn’t it? I know—it was you.”