Blank Charge

Coming out of the guest room, there was no one in the corridor.

Relying on his intuition, Jin Zhou walked towards the VIP room area. After a lot of effort, he finally found the entrance to the upper floor but was stopped by security guards on both sides. “Sir, please show your invitation card.”

Jin Zhou took out the invitation card from his pocket and pretended not to know, asking, “Can’t I go to the observation area mentioned here?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” The security guard glanced at it and returned the invitation card to Jin Zhou. “This is the VIP customer area only.”

Jin Zhou was sure that WangTai had taken Yang Shiyu upstairs. Looking at the vigilant appearance of the two security guards, he became increasingly uneasy.

He circled to another elevator entrance, but there were still security guards guarding on both sides.

It was almost impossible to go upstairs through normal routes. Jin Zhou arrived at the corridor near the theater and surveyed. He found that the VIP box of the theater was not far from the lower floor. So, while all the guests’ attention was focused on the stage, he found two chairs and stacked them together, using them to climb to the floor of the VIP box.

Upon entering the VIP area, the air seemed much quieter. There were no waiters passing by in the aisle, and only a few guests were sitting in the transparent cubicles.

Since Jin Zhou didn’t know where WangTai, Yang Shiyu, and others would be, he could only head upstairs through the staircase. As a result, he ended up at the top floor’s observation garden of the cruise ship.

On that cold winter night, the open-air garden was clearly not open to the public. The lights were not turned on, and there were no waiters at the bar.

Compared to the lively theater below, that place seemed like an abandoned world. Jin Zhou was about to leave, but at that moment, he faintly heard a familiar voice.

“Zhao Qing might be sentenced to death.”

—It was Yang Shiyu.

Jin Zhou quickly followed the sound and approached the railing of the garden, enduring the piercing sea breeze. He saw a small platform below the railing, which seemed to be an observation balcony extending from a luxury suite.

“Now, what evidence does the prosecution have?” WangTai faced the sea, and the cigar in his hand flickered like a signal tower, intermittently emitting a red light.

“By tracing the money laundering trail, the prosecution found that Zhao Qing had contact with several victims of the murder cases,” Yang Shiyu said.

WangTai’s motion of drawing on the cigar paused, and he turned to look at Yang Shiyu beside him, asking, “Can this be considered evidence?”

“Indirect evidence,” Yang Shiyu said, “Zhao Qing’s attitude has become somewhat unpredictable.”

“How is it unpredictable?” WangTai asked.

“During one interrogation, he asked how much his sentence could be reduced if he voluntarily spoke out.” Yang Shiyu paused, not fully disclosing the information. However, Jin Zhou, who was eavesdropping from above, understood his implication—Zhao Qing was hesitating whether to betray WangTai or not.

WangTai fell silent, took a puff from his cigar, and after a long while, he spoke with a distant gaze, “Judge Yang, what do you think I should do now?”

“If Zhao Qing speaks up,” Yang Shiyu paused for a moment and asked, “How do you think Zhao Qing speaking up will directly affect you?”

Upon hearing this question, Jin Zhou’s nerves tightened.

WangTai couldn’t possibly disclose all the crimes he had committed to Yang Shiyu, and now that Yang Shiyu was asking such a question, even though he asked very tactfully, it was no different from inquiring about his crimes directly.

Someone as cautious as WangTai would definitely be alert if someone tried to inquire about his secrets. Yang Shiyu’s audacity in asking such a question was indeed a bit risky.

“Of course, it will have a significant impact,” WangTai said casually, taking a puff of his cigar and looking at the dark sea level. “If he accuses me, I might not be able to defend myself.”

Seeing WangTai’s ordinary reaction, Jin Zhou temporarily breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately frowned – WangTai had managed to distance himself completely.

It seemed that upon hearing Yang Shiyu mention the possibility of Zhao Qing speaking, WangTai immediately thought of counter-accusing Zhao Qing of framing him. Even if Zhao Qing actually accused him, he would have already fabricated the evidence of being framed.

The plan clearly deviated, and Yang Shiyu should have noticed that as well, so he continued, “There’s also the director of the television station, who might reveal some things to the prosecutor.”

“Him?” WangTai’s hand holding the cigar froze in mid-air. After a moment, he looked at Yang Shiyu and asked, “Judge Yang, do you think someone is specifically targeting me?”

Jin Zhou’s nerves tightened again because Wangtai wouldn’t ask such a question if he wasn’t suspecting something.

“Targeting you?” Yang Shiyu asked calmly, raising an eyebrow in response. Perhaps outsiders couldn’t tell, but Jin Zhou and Yang Shiyu were too familiar with each other, and Jin Zhou could hear a slight tension in Yang Shiyu’s voice.

“My crew have been encountering incidents one after another, even my hosted parties have been leaked,” WangTai turned around leisurely, walking to a nearby leisure table and placing his cigar in the ashtray. “And all these things happened after I met you, Judge Yang. Quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Bad, Jin Zhou’s breathing suddenly became chaotic, and for a moment, he couldn’t predict how things would unfold.

However, Yang Shiyu remained much calmer than him. He turned to look at WangTai, raising an eyebrow and asking, “Do you suspect it’s me?”

“Not suspecting,” WangTai reached into his pocket and pulled out something black, pointing it at Yang Shiyu. “I’m certain.”

The accumulated ominous premonition suddenly erupted, and Jin Zhou saw clearly the object in Wang Hetai’s hand—it was a gun.

His breathing and heartbeat suddenly stopped, and he heard WangTai continue, “Judge Yang, your plan is good. You want me to silence Zhao Qing, but you overlooked one thing. Zhao Qing has been by my side for so many years; I know him too well, and he knows me well too. He wouldn’t betray me because betraying me would only lead to a dead end.”

“So,” Yang Shiyu’s face darkened, “are you now planning to murder a judge?”

“Personally, it’s not my style to take matters into my own hands, but since you’ve taken away my trusted aide, I don’t mind killing you myself,” WangTai said as he took a step back. “Do you know the good thing about celebrating New Year’s on a cruise ship, Judge Yang? Even if you die at sea, no one will ever find out.”

From the moment WangTai pulled out the gun to finishing his words, only a dozen seconds had passed.

Jin Zhou couldn’t just wait idly. He looked back at the open-air garden, considering grabbing a chair and throwing it from above to distract WangTai. He believed that with Yang Shiyu’s skills, they could definitely overpower WangTai.

However, at that moment, the sky suddenly erupted with a loud noise as colorful fireworks burst into a magnificent display, creating a beautiful scene at the sea.

Jin Zhou instinctively looked at the bright sky, and a thought crossed his mind—it was finally a New Year.

At the same time, he understood WangTai’s intention of calling away Yang Shiyu before midnight. WangTai wanted to use the fireworks’ sound to mask the gunshot and silently kill Yang Shiyu while the fireworks captured the attention of all the guests.

It took less than half a second for Jin Zhou to figure that out. He was completely filled by a sense of foreboding. He didn’t have time to get a chair from behind. He withdrew his gaze from the sky and looked down at the platform below. Just as another firework exploded, WangTai seized the opportunity, pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit Yang Shiyu. His body arched backward and flipped over the railing, falling down.

“Yang…”

Yang Shiyu!!!

Everything happened so quickly that Jin Zhou abruptly stood up, unable to believe the scene before his eyes.

WangTai went to the edge of the railing to check, confirming that Yang Shiyu had indeed fallen into the sea. Satisfied, he put away his gun and turned around to leave.

Jin Zhou’s remaining rationality reminded him not to be discovered. He weakly crouched behind the potted plant, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

No, it can’t be…

 Yang Shiyu…

In a panic, he called the police and requested an ambulance. Jin Zhou couldn’t even find his own original tone of voice.

Unsteadily, he came down the stairs,not even thinking he was about to find a place to jump into the sea to search for Yang Shiyu. However, at that moment, he suddenly heard a series of footsteps from below the staircase. He saw Ren Wenli leading a group of police officers disguised as waiters, arriving on the same floor where WangTai was.

His mind became a tangled mess. Jin Zhou rushed to Ren Wenli, not caring why she was there. Without delay, he grabbed her arm, his face pale, and said, “Officer Ren, Officer Ren, listen to me, Yang Shiyu…”

“I know.” Ren Wenli seemed surprised at Jin Zhou’s presence there, but she clearly didn’t have time to find out why. She consoled him, saying, “Don’t panic, we have colleagues below who are already searching and rescuing.”

His scattered thoughts finally returned to their rightful place. Jin Zhou leaned against the wall, making way for the police, and slowly calmed his irregular heartbeat.

He reassured himself that if Ren Wenli was there, it meant everything was planned.

As soon as Yang Shiyu fell into the water, the police would start the search and rescue operation, so everything would be fine.

Falling into the water from such a high place would have a similar impact to hitting a cement floor, not to mention Yang Shiyu was also hit by a gunshot…

No, he still had to go and see.

Jin Zhou’s heart was once again filled with unease. Shaking and unsteady, he supported himself against the wall, intending to go downstairs. But at that moment, the voices of Ren Wenli and WangTai echoed from the entrance of the luxury suite.

“WangTai, you are now under arrest on suspicion of intentional murder.”

“Arrest?” WangTai raised his hands in compliance but remained composed. “Officer, evidence must be presented in everything you do. Tell me, whom have I murdered? If you keep randomly arresting people, I won’t let it go so easily.”

Ren Wenli holstered her gun and took out handcuffs from her waist, gesturing to her subordinates to search the room.

WangTai had his hands restrained against the wall. With a hint of anger in his tone, he warned, “I’m telling you, if you arrest people without evidence, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Seeing WangTai’s confident demeanor, Jin Zhou speculated that probably a security personnel who hadn’t been taken into custody had likely tipped him off. Moreover, he had probably wiped the fingerprints off the gun and tossed it into the sea, which made him so certain that the police couldn’t find any evidence.

“WangTai.” Jin Zhou pushed through the crowd in front of him and walked to WangTai, directly facing the killer who had murdered his parents. For the first time, he confronted him as Jin Zhou, saying with an expressionless face, “Who said there is no evidence?”

WangTai furrowed his brows, sensing trouble, and scrutinized Jin Zhou from top to bottom, asking, “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Jin Zhou shook the phone in his hand. It contained the recording he had started when he heard their conversation. With a chilling voice, he said, “I’m a witness.”