The smell of blood is the only living thing in this cold office.
It is like a cunning poisonous snake, emerging from under the expensive Persian carpet, twisting and circling, easily penetrating the cedar fragrance emitted by the top air freshener, and stubbornly getting into everyone's nostrils.
Qin Zheng stood in the middle of the office, and the smell seemed to have a physical form, sticking to her skin.
She took off her latex gloves, and the knuckles of her pale, slender fingers were slightly red from the exertion. She didn't look at the body on the ground that had lost its temperature, and her eyes scanned the entire room. Luxury was her first comment on this office. The ground is as bright as obsidian, and the floor-to-ceiling windows on an entire wall show the night view of the entire city as bright as the stars, as if you are stepping on the clouds and overlooking the world. The mahogany desk is as huge as an ark, and everything on it, from pens to file racks, is arranged in an almost stereotyped way.
This is the kingdom of Chen Hong, the founder of "Singularity Technology". And now, the king is dead. Dead like a bad drama.
"Team Qin," a young police officer walked over cautiously, his face pale. "The doors and windows have been confirmed, and they are all locked from the inside. There are no signs of prying, and there are no secret passages. The security system of the building is top-notch. After ten o'clock last night, except for Chen Hong himself, there was no record of swiping cards or taking the elevator up to this floor."
