189: Chapter 189 Disappointment

"Use every means necessary to pry his mouth open as quickly as possible. Forget about that damn humanitarianism."

Chen Zhi's brow furrowed deeply upon hearing this. He didn't speak, but instead looked at Lin Ning with some confusion.

But when he saw Lin Ning's eyes, which couldn't hide his anxiety, and the hand on his own arm—veins bulging and knuckles turning white from exertion—his heart trembled.

He hesitated for only a second.

Chen Zhi called out to the people ahead: "Go to Interrogation Room A1 on the third basement floor."

The people escorting Ryan Muller and the accompanying personnel were all stunned for a moment, and then their expressions became even more cold and stern. They turned toward the basement entrance and quickened their pace.

Chen Zhi gave Lin Ning a deep look and then strode forward as well.

Ryan Muller's expression finally changed. Previously, after being quickly subdued and brought here, his face had only shown dejection and tension. Now, it was replaced by fear, and he began to struggle and roar.

But with his hands and feet bound and his jaw dislocated, it was all in vain.

Lin Ning, after all, was not official personnel, so he was left in the first-floor lobby.

He sat on a lounge chair, staring intently at the door leading to the underground structure, motionless, but his mind was racing.

The images he had seen with the Eye of Insight replayed in his mind over and over—

Nothing, nothing! There were no clues regarding the bomb's location or the detonation time!

In the end, only the image of that balding man saying, relaxed and smug, "Everything is ready on Jing Yi's side; it will be detonated according to plan..." remained in his mind like a thorn, stabbing deep into his heart.

Lin Ning clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The pain failed to dispel the bone-deep sense of frustration.

The Eye of Insight had always been his foundation. He could wander transcendently through the river of time, looking through a person's life from a superior vantage point.

The things people wanted to hide or forget had nowhere to hide before him.

But now...

What was the use of knowing there was a bomb and a crisis if he couldn't see where or when it would happen?

Irritation and self-deprecation fought in his throat, and what escaped his lips was a strange laugh. "Ha~"

Now Lin Ning could only pin his hopes on Chen Zhi, hoping he could interrogate some information out. He saw images of things that had happened, but he couldn't see into someone's heart.

Even if an old agent like Ryan Muller hadn't participated, could he really have no conjectures in his heart? He might not know the specific location, but he surely had a general idea.

And then there was Chen Zhi; he should know what to ask. Based on the answers received, with a professional team like the Ministry of State Security, they might be able to piece together the final puzzle.

At the end of the basement corridor, outside the interrogation room.

A Ministry of State Security officer opened the door and came out. Behind him came hoarse, hair-raising screams and a blurred exchange of questions and answers in English mixed with Chinese.

The door closed again, and the corridor returned to a silence where even breathing could be heard.

A young Ministry of State Security officer guarding the door handed him a bottle of mineral water. He took it and gulped down half the bottle before leaning against the wall and letting out a long sigh of relief.

"A piece of trash, still clamoring about the embassy and POW rights. What POW rights do spies have?!"

Hearing this, a trace of mockery and harshness appeared on the young officer's face. "In the future, everything should be done like this."

The officer who had just come out glanced at him and lowered his voice. "Don't say what you're thinking out loud; it's not in line with policy."

He glanced again at the deformed water bottle in the other's hand and changed the subject to relieve the newcomer's stress.

"Zhou Yan, didn't you say yesterday that you were taking your girlfriend to meet your parents today? How did it go?"

A flash of regret and guilt crossed Zhou Yan's face. "It would have been better if we'd made it for lunch; we scheduled it for six in the evening."

The older officer pursed his lips. Then he definitely stood them up. At three in the afternoon, all their investigators had been recalled.

"Cough, well, apologize properly and coax her later..."

He didn't know how else to comfort him. They did their jobs willingly, but they also felt guilt toward their families and loved ones. Both of them fell silent; some things had to be processed on one's own.

The softness in their hearts was fleeting. They involuntarily began to stare at the interrogation room door, waiting for good news, or even worse news.

Zhou Yan couldn't keep his composure and couldn't help but raise his hand to look at his watch—7:25.

Only twenty minutes had passed, but it felt like two hours.

Footsteps came from the end of the corridor.

An older woman came running over, holding a freshly printed document in her hand, speaking very quickly: "Just found this. All of Ryan Muller's recent movements and the people he's met, plus some information on that 'handler' who left the country. He's been going to the Northwest unusually frequently lately. Division Chief Chen needs to see this."

The older officer took it and looked, his brow furrowing.

The Northwest?

There were many ethnic minorities there, and it was a policy-sensitive area.

He pressed a button next to the door. The door opened, and he handed the materials directly inside, then closed the door and continued his guard duty outside.

The woman didn't leave. She hesitated for a moment and asked quietly, "Has he confessed?"

Zhou Yan shook his head.

The woman was silent for two seconds before suddenly saying, "My son was hospitalized with a fever today. When I left, he was grabbing my clothes and crying until his face turned red."

The two men turned to look at her.

The woman stared at the door. Her slightly red eyes seemed to vanish like an illusion, leaving only cold ruthlessness. Then she turned around decisively and strode away.

Zhou Yan was startled by that ruthlessness.

The other person explained, "Sister Li only had her child after she retired from the front line due to a serious injury. He's only four years old."

Zhou Yan looked at Sister Li's disappearing back and squeezed the water bottle in his hand hard. "F*ck him. He won't do his job as a special agent properly and has to do these low-life terrorist attacks. We should go over to their side and do the same..."

The older man remained silent, no longer criticizing Zhou Yan's inappropriate words.

Zhou Yan looked at his watch again—7:30.

The air grew thicker as time passed.

7:50.

8:05.

8:15.

...

Zhou Yan's hand gripping the water bottle exerted constant pressure.

Time had never passed so slowly. Lin Ning went from anxious to numb, watching as the giant clock hand in the lobby turned to nine o'clock—the door to the underground building opened.

Lin Ning turned his head sharply as Chen Zhi's figure appeared.

Lin Ning's steps toward him faltered for a moment.

Chen Zhi's originally neat hair had become messy, with a few strands sticking to his temples. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his forearms, revealing a couple of dark red bloodstains on his wrists. His face was dark and cold, and his eyes were bloodshot. His gaze, however, was like an unsheathed sword, carrying a piercing chill. He looked exhausted yet extremely dangerous.

Lin Ning had a bad feeling, but he still walked quickly to his side and asked, "What did you get out of him?"

When Chen Zhi saw Lin Ning, his gaze softened slightly. Upon hearing Lin Ning's question, it turned gloomy again.

"Ryan Muller is the sleeper agent." Chen Zhi hesitated before saying, "They intend to detonate bombs at religious sites to create panic, incite religious conflict, and damage China's international image."

"Which religious site? At what time?" Lin Ning only wanted those answers.

Chen Zhi pursed his lips, his voice hoarse. "I don't know. He wasn't responsible for that line and doesn't know the specifics."

"You don't know?" Lin Ning's voice rose sharply. "He's an old agent; does he really have no conjectures at all? Or any other information?"

Chen Zhi shook his head while rubbing his temples. "We pried for two hours and used every method available. It's not just because Ryan Muller wasn't in charge of that line, but also because he is a theologicalist. When he first learned the plan involved religious sites, he actively refused to receive relevant information, essentially isolating himself from the mission."

Lin Ning laughed in anger. A veteran agent playing the game of self-blinding and self-deception.

But at this moment, the slight hope and expectation he had felt earlier deflated as if pricked by a needle.

Chen Zhi looked at him and spoke: "This is our home turf. We will do our utmost to find those people and extinguish their conspiracy."

His tone carried a sense of determination and promise.

"You were in a car accident today and helped catch the sleeper agent. It's been hard on you. Go back and rest." He turned to leave as he spoke.

However, Lin Ning asked softly, "I know you'll definitely find those bastards, but will there be enough time?"

How many religious sites were there in the country? Thousands. If they checked them one by one, how long would it take?

Chen Zhi's footsteps froze.

"If you implement a unified lockdown and inspection, will it cause panic? Will it be exploited by people with ulterior motives and turned into distorted reports of 'the Chinese government suppressing religion' and widely publicized? By then, even if the bomb doesn't go off, the effect will be much the same as if it had, wouldn't it?"

Lin Ning's voice was very soft, but the content was extremely cold and cruel.

Chen Zhi didn't turn around, his back to Lin Ning: "We will fight until the last moment, and then..."

His back was straight, like a green pine that would never be bent, shaking off the snow that tried to weigh it down. His white shirt and the bloodstains on his wrist seemed to herald gunpowder and a storm of blood. He didn't finish his sentence and instead strode forward. With every step, his spine straightened further, like a slowly unsheathing blade until its cold light was intimidating.

Lin Ning stood in place, staring at the stairwell where his back had disappeared, speechless for a long time.

Lin Ning didn't leave; instead, he returned to the lounge chair where he had sat before and sat down again.

Only he knew that he had one more choice, or rather, a slim chance—Divination of Insight.

It was just that he was afraid; he had shrunk back.

Last time, he had only explored what Divination of Insight represented and was nearly drained dry. That premonition of death had made him cowardly.

If he really used it this time, he didn't know what his end would be.

Although his Psychic Power and constitution were growing at a steady rate every day, only a little over half a month had passed. The increase shouldn't be much. Using Divination of Insight would be too forced and too dangerous.

The best result would be like when he first used the Eye of Insight—bleeding from his seven orifices and fainting. The bad result...

Lin Ning didn't think further.

He didn't know what he was doing sitting here now either. He should have listened to Chen Zhi and left. He wasn't the kind of saint who would sacrifice himself; he was just an ordinary person. But he felt as if he were fixed in place by a Body-Binding Curse, unable to take a step away.

The night grew deeper, and countless pieces of information were circulating. It felt as if something was accumulating and brewing in the darkness.