When the rain stopped, the first ray of dawn also shone upon the dock.
The rigorously structured Winter Prison, buried underground, had been operating under Shengjing's security system for nine years. Now, with the victims seeing daylight and the evidence undeniable, the Taiping Canal Association had no more shields to hide behind.
The once-famous Di Jiu, who now took cases alone, still had pale lips. The Junior Minister, sitting in a wheelchair, was leaning over the desk, examining all the items brought up in the search report.
Pei Ye, who had received only rudimentary bandaging to stop the bleeding, leaned to one side, "Are there any that slipped through the net?"
Di Jiu shook his head, "You've killed all the big ones, let the small fries slip if they will."