Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

Chapter 634 Let's play a game

Yang Qingyue tapped on the mouse and scanned through the files Cai Ning had sent over. Reading several lines quickly, Yang Qingyue understood the level of corruption and why the suspected man chose not to throw the eight bastards into prison.

The maximum sentence and other loopholes were worse than just a mere slap on the wrist. Replacing him, Yang Qingyue thought she was no better and had no right to say otherwise.

But the law was the law. Nothing was allowed to cross it or exploit it. Any offenders must be held accountable. The only problem with sentencing influential and powerful figures was the corruption holding back true justice.

An unfair justice system? Perhaps. Yang Qingyue had headaches contemplating such philosophical issues.

It appeared that one of the eight scums was linked to the police chief—a nephew or something, though she had no idea how they were connected.

Nonetheless, his father was the owner of one of the gold mines in the province, which explained everything.

"As I expected," Yang Qingyue muttered and looked at the outside scenery through the window.

The problem of gangs and organized crime was about to be solved. However, corruption issues in Province N posed a greater threat.

Luckily, she was in control of the province instead of someone else. She dared not imagine what another commissioner would do in her situation without a sufficient team behind them.

Meanwhile, four Spirit Fox operators noticed an additional six sisters had arrived. No one bothered to care about the lipsticks except the police officers.

The policewomen tried to keep their distance, lest they became targets, while the male officers lamented the unfairness of fate.

Even the new arrivals, who had just gotten there, found their eyelids twitching. Were Spirit Fox operators always this playful?

In this harsh era of finding women, someone was robbing away their resources. What a waste of human population efficiency—it was hearsay.

The four earliest operators approached the two men, whom the male suspect had pointed out.

The latter had given up on his fate, unwillingness written all over his face. He should have just killed them instead of wanting to torture them and allowing them to escape.

Among the four, only one still wore special clothing in full kit. The rest had only clothes on since their vests and helmets had been removed, although their hologram masks still worked.

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One of them stepped closer and took a half-kneel in front of the two men, who were now leaning against the car with temporary blankets provided by the police.

"Is he telling the truth?" she asked a simple question, yet her eyes seemed to sieve through the two men.

Combined with the wetness clinging to her sturdy and elegant figure, along with droplets on her hair and face, she exuded an air of superiority.

With her height and attractive face, she seemed to look down from above. From their slight initial contact, the four operators realized these two men were spineless, incomparable to the ones in Province N.

Relying on officials' backgrounds and bullying the weak might have been too common for them. At least in Province N, gangsters dared to fight against the strong.

Spirit Fox's menacing, slow approach, exuding control and authority, had shaken their will. The four operators now completely believed the manslaughter suspect's words.

"Officers, do you believe a murderer's words? We're the victims here!" One of the men regained his courage and quibbled. "Don't you care how many people he killed?"

"I don't believe or disbelieve. It's because I care that I'm interrogating to get the full picture," the woman answered with a shrug. "You'd better answer while we still have good attitudes and are in a good mood."

"It's a good idea," the woman rolled her eyes, "but 'I Love Rock and Roll' doesn't match us, right?"

Nearby, the police officers, Spirit Fox operators, the suspect, and the two men almost slipped from the surreal nature of the discussion.

Particularly, the two men were on the verge of tears. This was too much torture. They didn't believe the excuses.

These women might just be devils here to haunt them and make them pay for their karma. This was deliberate.

Perhaps noticing their fear, a glint flashed in the woman's eyes. "Don't worry. We won't lay a hand on you."

The more you say it like that, the more afraid we are, the two men thought inwardly. They hadn't forgotten the woman's words about how Spirit Fox's fearsome reputation had been instilled among criminals.

"It's a bit boring to conduct enhanced interrogations," the woman chuckled, glancing around. "How about we play a game and see whether you'll tell the truth?"

The woman took out a black revolver with a wooden handle from behind and twirled it on her palm, showcasing the exquisite antique-era weapon. "Look at this masterpiece. It's really difficult to get your hands on something like this."

She snapped the cylinder out and removed all the golden bullets into her palm before inserting five back and keeping one between her fingers. She displayed the entire set of bullets in front of the two men's eyes.

Their worries intensified with each passing second. A sense of foreboding struck everyone present, except the Spirit Fox operatives, who had immense trust in one another.

The nearest policewoman gasped, disbelief evident in her eyes. The two men looked around, seeking help, but to their dismay, Spirit Fox blocked anyone unrelated.

On the other hand, the suspect felt both disbelief and thrill at the turn of events. He had thought these two bastards were going to get lucky.

The female interrogator grinned and inserted the bullet into the chamber before spinning the cylinder and snapping it back into place. "It seems like our friends know what game we're about to play."

"No, you can't do this! Help!"

"Oh, come on. We haven't even started yet," the woman sighed dramatically. "Who's going first? You, or you?"

No one here was a fool. With a revolver and a bullet, everyone knew exactly what game the woman intended.

The police officers became restless and moved to subdue the operators. Killing people without evidence right in front of them?

But this was Spirit Fox. Each operator had prepared for every possible scenario, with remedies for such attacks and defenses.

Before anything could escalate, they set up appropriate formations and executed their plans. Within half a minute, no further movement erupted—not even gunfire—because the officers couldn't draw their weapons in time.

The four officers nearest to the scene, still in the planning stage, were dumbfounded, patting their chests in relief that they hadn't acted sooner.

Meanwhile, the two men were in despair. The help they sought was useless.

"You don't need to worry," the female interrogator said. "One of you will survive. Maybe neither. Or, you can tell me everything you've done to that girl and confess sincerely. Perhaps I'll be in a better mood."

She continued, "It doesn't matter if you don't speak. I'm sure the young man behind me will be happy if both of you die to make up for his regret. The one who speaks first will live. I've given you an opportunity. It's up to you two to grasp it."

She played with the revolver in her palm and chuckled darkly. Her three teammates surrounding her replicated her aura—tapping metal objects, laughing, or looking at the men with pity, as if they were toys about to be discarded.

Seeing the two men still clinging to the hope that Spirit Fox was bluffing, the female inquisitor licked her lips and slapped them lightly on their cheeks.

"Come on, we don't have time. Are you going to speak or play? Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven..."