Westridge District Police Headquarters.
In the deputy commissioner's office, an old man of about sixty years old, dressed in a police uniform, was sitting in his chair next to the window.
He was short and slightly plump. He leaned back on his chair, looking pleased with himself with a cigarette in his mouth.
Suddenly, the phone on his desk rang.
He gave his cigarette a long drag, then picked up the phone. His round old face displayed a hint of delight. "Hey! Boss Chen!"
"How are things coming along, Deputy Commissioner An?" On the other end of the call was Chen Sandao's sinister voice.
"Don't worry, everything's going smoothly! He's just a village kid, right? How hard is it to get him to confess? Once he does and the sentence is passed, that'll be the end of him." Deputy Commissioner An smiled.
"Good to hear! Thanks to you, Deputy Commissioner An. I'll transfer the seven million over soon!"
