That earth-shattering cough from the intern finally died down, leaving the deathly silence in the office magnified infinitely.
On the surveillance monitor, Auntie Li’s covert attempt to pick the lock with a tool was displayed at 0.25x slow motion, every single detail infuriatingly clear.
Zhang Minghui stared dead at the screen. The cold sweat on his forehead was no longer just dripping; it was streaming down in rivulets, rapidly soaking through the collar of his expensive shirt.
Chapter 45