I couldn’t help but glance at Zhang Haixing, feeling a mix of emotions. From her earlier performance, it seemed that taking her down would be a piece of cake for her.

After a while, the fat guy went down to drag out the already unconscious Zhang Haixing. He first freed her hands and tied them up, then he worked on her legs. I went to help, knowing she must have sustained serious injuries because her body felt completely limp.

I was a bit unsure about what the fat guy intended to do. As I watched him tie up Zhang Haixing, he turned to me and said, “This woman must have a way to untie herself. Just tying her up like this isn’t enough; we need to restrain her in other ways so she can’t move at all. Otherwise, with her athletic ability, we wouldn’t stand a chance whether we tried to fight or escape.”

I held a cigarette, still feeling weak and numb all over, and thought to myself: Are you really going to cut her tendons or something? The difference between good people and bad people often lies in the fact that even if good people have the upper hand, they are reluctant to harm those who have previously harmed them. Of course, my bottom line was already quite low; if the fat guy decided to get serious, I wouldn’t stop him. Plus, I knew he was capable of such things.

But it seemed I was overthinking it. The fat guy simply used transparent tape to bind Zhang Haixing’s fingers into a shape reminiscent of Doraemon.

Someone like Zhang Haixing would definitely focus on training the strength and dexterity of her fingers, but the way the fat guy had tied her up would prevent her fingers from opening. Even if she managed to force them open, the elastic nature of the tape would make it difficult to remove it from her fingers, effectively eliminating their flexibility.

“This is what they call hitting a snake at its weak point and tying up a person by their fingers,” he clapped his hands and added, “She said her last name isn’t Zhang. Do you think the whole group doesn’t have the surname Zhang, or is it just this woman who snuck in?”

“Check if she’s wearing a human skin mask,” I suggested. After saying that, I realized the fat guy didn’t have experience with masks and wouldn’t know how to check. I gritted my teeth and staggered over.

Zhang Haixing was still very beautiful, her body lines sharp and not at all muddled. Her face was three-dimensional, soft yet carrying a feminine kind of determination. With such a face and figure, if she wore long boots and tight leather, it would be quite something.

Unfortunately, my life had become unrelated to beauty.

I turned her head, exposing her pale neck. The biggest issue and the greatest test of skill with a human skin mask is the junction between the mask and the neck. Achieving a seamless connection is very difficult, but it was clear that this technical problem had been solved a long time ago. My previous mask, if not examined under a microscope, would have no visible seams.

The only flaw I had noticed while wearing a mask, due to my involuntary habit of touching it, was temperature.

If you wear it often enough, you’ll notice that the temperature of your face when wearing a human skin mask is slightly higher than when not wearing one.

This temperature difference is very subtle, and since I hadn’t worn one in a long time, I couldn’t be sure I could immediately discern it. But if she was wearing one, I would definitely feel it.

I placed my hand on her neck, gently stroking from her neck up to her cheek several times. The fat guy then asked, “What the hell, are you trying to molest her? Should I keep watch?”

“Non-sense, you leg!” I said. I felt nothing; it was clearly her own face. Maybe, like Zhang Haike, the mask had grown onto her face, but I thought that was unlikely because she once said, “Do you think having long fingers means you’re a member of the Zhang family?”

So, her implication should be that this group of people might not be the so-called Zhang family members. Zhang Haixing’s fingers were not long, and I understood her words clearly. I was just checking to see if she was wearing a mask, hoping I had misheard. After all, suddenly encountering a group of capable Zhang family members felt better than struggling alone in ignorance.

Shorty Feng kept his head down, the blood on his hands had not fully stopped. Zhang Haixing used him as bait to lure the Fatty, but what she didn’t anticipate was that Shorty Feng would risk his life to save the Fatty.

This German fellow was quite clever; he knew that if the Fatty died, he would be doomed too. Only if the Fatty survived did he have a glimmer of hope. So even though his hands and feet were bound with wire, he rolled into that muddy pit, using himself as a stepping stone for the Fatty to climb up.

“If that group of people are not Zhang family members, then who are they?”

“If they’re not Zhang family members, then everything I’ve investigated must have been anticipated by them. The information online must also be fabricated, and they have almost designed every step for me.” I took a deep drag on my cigarette. “However, I’m sure your appearance was definitely unexpected for them, because Zhang Haixing’s anger towards you is unmistakable. That Zhang Haike is a cunning old fox, while this woman is not very good at disguise. Precisely because of this, we overlooked her.”

Zhang Haixing really didn’t disguise anything, but due to my negligence, I didn’t probe her at all, allowing someone like her to lead us here. This point was probably part of their calculations too.

Is it a grand scheme? Upon reflection, there are actually many flaws; it’s my own problem. They exploited the blind spots in my thinking. As for who they are, I don’t think it really matters. Based on our current data, we cannot draw any conclusions. The only certainty is that even if they are not Zhang family members, they have deep ties with the Zhang family.

“Damn it,” I cursed. If that’s the case, then we would be in big trouble next. We can’t contact the outside world and can only find a way out ourselves.

Going back this way would be painful, but it wouldn’t be a life-or-death situation. The key is that if we return the same way, we would inevitably pass through Motuo. At that time, we would surely be exhausted and passive. If we don’t take the old route and look for another exit, the road ahead is long and perilous. This is the heart of the Himalayas; wandering around is basically equivalent to seeking death.

“Hey,” the Fatty handed water to Shorty Feng. “What do you have to say? What’s your situation? Right now, we’re three grasshoppers tied to the same rope. Can you share some information? How did your partners use you as bait to harm me? Didn’t you have any constraints during the negotiations?”

“We were prepared, but we didn’t expect them to take action here,” said the short-statured Feng. “The agreement wasn’t reached at the Lama Temple; we first met this group when we were in New York cleaning up Judeco’s company files.”

Feng explained that when Judeco’s company was restructured and its profitable assets were stripped away, all the remaining bankrupt assets were acquired by a German company. They went to take over these business departments, most of whose personnel had already left. The contacts they dealt with were a group of project managers primarily consisting of Chinese individuals.

These individuals had little chance of finding other jobs. Unlike the flexible Americans, they chose to stay and wait for new employers, as their workplaces were all in the field; reporting to New York or Berlin made no difference.

For over twenty years before Judeco’s death, nearly all his experiences occurred in China, so there were quite a few Chinese people in these departments who could understand the situation. Upon investigation, they found that there were seventy-eight Chinese individuals among them.

They conducted re-interviews with these Chinese people, as they needed a large amount of documents and materials when purchasing these company assets. Of course, they also required someone to interpret the documents, so they needed to understand the relationship between these individuals and the files.

During the interview process, they discovered that although several projects were on the verge of bankruptcy, one project was still operational. Almost all resources from these projects were being utilized by this main project, which had started on the very day Judeco died.

What was most peculiar was that the management authority for this project was classified as F-level, meaning it had immunity under international company practices. Even the board would require six months to halt such projects; otherwise, they would incur substantial penalties for exceeding the immunity threshold.

Thus, the hidden culprits behind Judeco’s many strange actions over the years finally emerged, along with the so-called think tank that Judeco had trusted.

“I always felt that Judeco did so many things but lacked a core motivation. His relentless drive, pushing himself to the very last moment of his life, must have been influenced by someone or something that convinced him deeply,” I said, taking a breath. “And in many matters, what Judeco did was incredibly precise, to the point that it wasn’t just an understanding of the situation; at many critical junctures, there had to be genuine insiders assisting him. This feeling has been constant, and now this group of people has finally appeared.”

“Are you saying that his employees are not ordinary?” the fat man asked.

I turned to Feng and asked, “How many staff members were originally involved in these projects?”

“With the clerical staff, there are more than seven hundred in total; it’s a massive organization. Before we took over, they had already laid off over four hundred,” said the short-statured Feng. “These Chinese people are usually hidden within a large institution; they may not hold high positions, but they are certainly in key positions that can drive things forward. This is quite similar to the practices of the Zhang family. Now that the tide has receded, those who could hide them have disappeared, but they can’t leave, so they have all been exposed.”

“Isn’t this a method of seizing power? Can Jude Call tolerate such a system’s existence?” the fat man asked.

“This isn’t a power grab. In the corporate systems of Europe and America, power is firmly held by the board of directors, and the system is intricately intertwined. It’s very simple to eliminate a web of factions or cliques. These people are doing this merely to ensure that the company’s resources flow in the direction they desire. I think Jude Call is tacitly approving of this. For him, in his later years, his greatest enemies, aside from us, are the board of directors,” I recalled all the details that might relate to this matter. “It’s quite common in Western history for a company’s controller to secretly try to drain the lifeblood of their empire to fulfill a personal wish.”

“That’s a bit impressive,” the fat man remarked.

I asked Feng, “So, you are the acquirers, the big bosses. After you got involved, you should have been in charge of the management. Why are you so passive now?”

“I think it’s because what these Chinese people showed to Jude Call was also shown to our big boss. I don’t know what it was, but clearly, after seeing it, the big boss’s stance changed immediately,” Feng replied. “We continued with the previous structure of Jude Call’s company, without oversight or inquiry into this plan, and injected a large amount of company funds. Our original action department has also shifted from being the main executor to a supporting role.”

“And then you just obeyed?” I asked.

I looked into his eyes, knowing he had not finished speaking.