Chapter 1164 - The Investigation

Safe House No. 72 was located in a storage building behind a certain shop in Dongmen Market. The location was quiet amid the hustle—convenient front and rear doors. It had been personally selected by Zhou Botao.

The shopkeeper was one of the earliest naturalized citizens from Lingao and fiercely loyal to the Senate. He naturally wouldn't refuse any request from "the relevant department." Anyone who gave the correct code phrase would be led directly to this storage room.

The storage room wasn't large, already filled with goods, leaving only a small three-legged table propped against the wall and several long benches by the door. Ke Yun and Informant No. 00967 sat at the table.

Informant No. 00967 was a young girl belonging to the lowest tier of "peripheral informants"—aside from her direct superior in the surveillance network who controlled her, she never saw Headquarters personnel. From her excited expression, she was clearly flattered by this summons.

Ke Yun had reviewed her file beforehand. The informant was nineteen years old, newly graduated from nursing classes, and assigned as a nurse at Bairen General Hospital.

She had been recruited while at Fangcaodi. She was very enthusiastic about her work, frequently writing informant letters—though almost all of them were worthless speculation based on nothing.

"Tell me about Li Mo's situation in Guangzhou," Ke Yun said. "Be as detailed as possible."

The informant began enthusiastically recounting Li Mo's activities in Guangzhou, especially the days when she'd shown abnormal behavior, going into painstaking detail—almost unbearably thorough about every particular.

Ke Yun listened carefully, quickly extracting a thread from the informant's disorganized narrative: Li Mo had been normal for the first few days in Guangzhou; it was only one particular evening that she'd begun to seem troubled.

Under Ke Yun's gentle guidance, she recalled more details. It was probably after noon that day that Li Mo had first shown signs of being disturbed. During the afternoon rest period, she'd noticed Li Mo tossing and turning, occasionally sobbing quietly.

"Did something happen that day?" Ke Yun grew interested—this meant something must have happened that morning.

"Nothing special happened," the informant said, straining to recall the day's events. Ke Yun quickly realized a problem: Li Mo did back-office work, spending most of her time managing the pharmacy and inventory and handling accounts. She had essentially no opportunity to meet with locals.

Why would such a person suddenly behave abnormally? Ke Yun inquired:

"Did she have any contact with outsiders that day?"

"No," the informant said, shaking her head. "She isn't a nurse or medical practitioner—she doesn't handle triage or consultations, nor dispensing or registration..." When she mentioned registration, the informant suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh, I just remembered—she substituted for the registration nurse that day for about an hour..."

Ke Yun nodded. So something must have happened during that hour of registration duty.

Beyond this, the informant couldn't provide anything of value. Ke Yun praised her briefly, saying her materials were very useful.

"Investigator Comrade, is Li Mo a traitor?" The young nurse's face flushed with excitement. If she could expose a traitor, an "enemy of the Senate and the people"—that would be truly glorious.

Ke Yun deflected, answering coldly: "You know the discipline."

Not inquiring about matters unrelated to oneself, strictly guarding the organization's secrets—these were the basic rules for informants.

"Yes, I understand, Investigator Comrade." The informant deflated as if doused with cold water.

"Your work has been very good, but you must understand that discipline is discipline." Ke Yun adopted her former instructor's tone—one must constantly encourage informants. "From now on, you must pay close attention to any new developments regarding her."

Ke Yun returned to her Investigation Division office at seven-thirty in the evening. Most of the office gas lamps were lit—Political Security Headquarters staff preferred working at night.

Political Security Headquarters had expanded rapidly. The Investigation Division and Execution Division had once shared an old courtyard outside the county seat, but it had become inadequate. After coordination, the Execution Division had moved to a new site.

The office space and rooms vacated by the Execution Division were quickly filled with investigators' offices and file rooms stuffed with dossiers.

Ke Yun showed her pass to the guards at the door and entered the Execution Division's two-story office building. The central hall on the ground floor was empty save for two night-shift guards. She walked toward the corridor on the right. The hallway had no decorations whatsoever—walls simply whitewashed, gas lamps burning without adornment, floors of plain brick. Both sides of the corridor lined with office doors—nearly twenty of them. Almost every one showed lamplight through the frosted glass, with people occasionally coming and going.

Ke Yun's office was on the ground floor. She lit the gas lamp. The office was small—these buildings had been constructed not long after D-Day, when manpower and materials were insufficient, so they were quite basic. The ceiling was low, and the red brick walls had only been plastered smooth with lime mortar the previous year.

Each investigator had their own office, allowing them to work undisturbed on their cases. One wall had been made into a bookshelf of unfinished wooden planks, stuffed with file boxes and internally published standard work manuals of various kinds—to accommodate the staff's varying skill levels, all work had been broken down into standardized procedures.

By the window sat an unpainted Shengchuan-brand desk and two simple chairs. To combat Lingao's hot summer nights, the glass windows were all open, with iron screens outside blocking the hordes of insects attracted by the gas light.

The screens weren't just for insects—they also prevented papers from blowing away. This was one of Zhao Manxiong's internal regulations: not a single scrap of paper may leave the office.

To economize, any documents requiring destruction were collected daily by specialized personnel, bundled with sealed strips, and stored in the secure vault. Once accumulated to a certain point, they would be transported by dedicated personnel and vehicles to the paper mill for destruction in the pulping vat.

(End of Chapter)