Chapter 7

Before Caleb could respond, the patrol officers had already led Marcus away.

In truth, Caleb wasn't sure how to answer.

Unlike the pinhole cameras Caleb had set up, the prison's surveillance cameras were large, white, and rectangular, clearly visible and impossible to overlook. The recreational room was only about 107 square feet, with a completely empty ceiling. It was obvious that no cameras were installed there.

Even if there were cameras, they would be connected to the surveillance room, not the library.

When Caleb rushed over earlier, Marcus had been facing away from the door. Also, Nine's two subordinates were directly blocking the entrance. There was no way Caleb could have known it was Marcus causing the commotion the moment he opened the door.

Yet, Caleb had blurted out Marcus' inmate number almost the instant he turned the doorknob.

In other words, Caleb already knew what was happening in the recreational room before he even entered.

Caleb prided himself on being cautious and meticulous—qualities that had allowed him to spy on others without getting caught. But in this case, he had to admit he had been somewhat careless.

He hadn't had time to think about it in the heat of the moment. But looking back now, he suddenly realized another issue—how had Marcus thought of that so quickly?

Maybe it was because he was outnumbered three to one and had to stay alert as to what was happening behind him. Or perhaps he was naturally sensitive to surveillance and immediately noticed Caleb's slip.

Regardless of the reason, this was not the thinking of someone with low intelligence.

A bad feeling settled in Caleb's gut. Marcus didn't seem as simple-minded as he had initially thought.

Caleb forced himself to push aside this unease, trying to convince himself that it was unlikely someone could discover his secret from a mere slip.

-

"Nine's in rough shape," Hector said.

When it was almost time to get off work, Hector returned to the prison from an external hospital. He had come to the library to chat with Caleb and pass the time.

"Putting aside the concussion he got, his right wrist joint..." Hector pointed to his own wrist and continued, "...was dislocated and fractured. I don't even know how it got so bad."

Caleb already knew what had happened. When Nine aimed a punch at Marcus, the latter had taken a small step back and responded with a fierce, straight punch at Nine's incoming fist.

Caleb had watched Marcus perform that move countless times. While he hadn't thought much of it when Marcus was hitting the punching bag at home, hearing the ear-splitting screams through his wireless earbud had made him realize just how formidable Marcus' punches could be.

"He had it coming," Caleb concluded.

"Let's not talk about Nine for now," Hector said. "It's only been three days, and Marcus has already been roughed up. Remember our bet about the Michelin restaurant? You can't back out now."

"Hold on a minute. Are you sure this counts as getting roughed up?" Caleb interrupted. "Strictly speaking, he was the one who roughed up Nine."

"Is that how you see it?" Hector raised an eyebrow in protest. "He beat Nine to a pulp, and now no one will dare to mess with him for a while. You bet on one week. Doesn't that mean the score is even?"

"Not necessarily," Caleb protested. "What if Samuel decides to seek revenge for Nine?"

"You know he won't," Hector replied.

Well, that was true.

Samuel Parker was the longest-serving inmate at Southern Prison and the gang leader whom Nine followed. But the two men's temperaments were quite different.

Having been in prison for over a decade, Samuel had learned to keep a low profile. He followed a simple principle—if others didn't offend him, he wouldn't do anything to them. As long as no one did anything he found deeply offensive, there was no need to worry about trouble.

In situations where someone like Nine sought trouble and ended up getting beaten up, Samuel would certainly not intervene.

"Let's forget about it, then," Caleb said.

Originally, he had anticipated that Marcus would fend off the first wave of troublemakers, which would provoke greater public outrage, leading to trouble from a stronger group.

But now, with Marcus having beaten up Nine so badly, who would dare provoke him?

"Why don't we just go out for a casual meal instead?" Hector suggested. "There's a new private dining place in the city. How about we give it a try?"

"Sure," Caleb agreed. "Let's go this Friday."

Evenings during the workweek were precious. It took over forty minutes to drive into the city, so Caleb only bothered to visit the city on weekends.

Not long after arriving home from work, the long-awaited first heavy rain of the summer arrived. The sky was filled with dark clouds, lightning, and thunder, making it seem as though the world was ending, leaving only the sound of pouring rain.

Caleb shut all the windows tightly, but when he looked at the villa across the street, he couldn't help but pause and stare for a while.

Since there was no glass in the window, Caleb could see the curtains in the bedroom flapping wildly in the storm. The rain had also washed away the dark stains on the exterior wall, making the scene even more desolate.

Marcus had been hit with a 40-million-dollar fine. Given that his liquid assets were likely insufficient, even the villa had been sealed by the court. The neighborhood workers had grumbled about it for quite a while.

Caleb turned away, pulling his curtains shut.

Heavy rain always arrived suddenly and stopped just as quickly.

By the time Caleb was ready for bed, the neighborhood had returned to its usual tranquility.

Lately, Caleb had stopped checking on the house across the street before going to sleep. However, tonight, he was curious to see what Marcus' house would look like after the rain. So, he casually lifted the curtain and glanced across.

But that one glance left him frozen in place.

There was a black-clad figure in Marcus' house again.

With the curtains blown completely open by the wind, Caleb had an even clearer view this time. The black-clad figure was rummaging through Marcus' closet, even going so far as to inspect the springs inside the mattress.

Even a fool could tell they were searching for something.

Without hesitation, Caleb called the police. Since he hadn't spotted the black-clad figure the first time, the intruder had already left Marcus' house by the time the police arrived. But it seemed they hadn't found what they were looking for.

The police car parked on the street between the two houses. A plainclothes officer got out and shone a flashlight into Marcus' house. Seeing nothing unusual, he redirected the light towards Caleb's side.

Caleb opened the window, leaned halfway out, and called out to the plainclothes officer downstairs, "William? Is that you?"

"Caleb?"

William Grant's expression was equally surprised, clearly not expecting to run into a familiar face here.

"Why are you here?" Caleb asked.

Caleb had often dealt with William when he worked at the court, but they had lost touch since Caleb's transfer to the prison.

"I'm here to investigate the case of the malicious short-selling from a while back," William said, putting away his flashlight. "Were you the one who called to report a break-in?"

"Yes," Caleb replied. "Come on up and we can talk."

After exchanging brief pleasantries, William explained why he was there.

It turned out that Caleb hadn't been the only one to change jobs. Willian had also been transferred from the criminal unit to the economic unit to work on Marcus' case.

"About two months ago, we observed suspicious insider trading by a short-selling firm, Prospera Enterprise. We set up an investigation team, but we came up empty. Then, some time later, an employee from their firm—Marcus—contacted me, claiming to have insider information about his boss-"

"Wait, you mean Marcus reached out to you voluntarily?" Caleb interrupted William.

"That's right. We communicated over the phone. He said he would organize the information and hand it over to me in person. However…" William sighed. "That night, he was attacked."

Caleb froze at this revelation, immediately recalling the scene when the black-clad figure had first broken into Marcus' house.

"He promised to deliver the information to me, but after that, he completely stopped answering my calls," William added with another sigh.

"He didn't trust you," Caleb said gravely, frowning.

Although Caleb and William were not close friends, they had interacted enough for Caleb to know that William was not a corrupt cop.

"I swear, it definitely wasn't me who leaked the information. But I understand his distrust—it's a normal reaction," William said. "Later, Prospera Enterprise was exposed for malicious short-selling, and all evidence pointed to Marcus. He didn't make any excuses and confessed directly."

Upon hearing this, Caleb couldn't help but feel puzzled. "So, was it really him?"

If Marcus had been willing to expose his own boss, he would have been a person with a strong sense of justice.

How had he ended up as a criminal himself?

"To be honest, I'm not sure," William said with a deep breath, his tone tinged with resignation.

"Let's analyze it this way. If he was framed, then his opponents are very powerful, able to create a complete chain of evidence to incriminate him. And since he couldn't trust law enforcement, he chose not to resist and is instead hiding in prison," William continued.

Caleb hadn't anticipated how complex the case might be. But thinking it through, if the case were as straightforward as it seemed, the presence of the black-clad figure was indeed hard to explain.

He also recalled Marcus' earlier question about whether there were surveillance cameras in the prison. This might have been one of the ways Marcus was trying to ensure his personal safety.

"On the other hand," William suddenly changed his tone. "It's also possible that he was the main culprit from the start. When we investigated, we might have tipped him off, so he planned to frame his boss. But the situation unraveled faster than he anticipated, so he had no choice but to accept his fate."

Two completely opposing scenarios, but both were plausible.

"So, which do you think it is?" Caleb couldn't help but ask.

"Police work doesn't rely on intuition, it relies on evidence. But if I had to choose, I still think there's something fishy about this case, which is why I came to take a look at things here. I happened to receive the report while en route," William replied.

"Someone was rummaging through his house earlier," Caleb explained.

"Can't rule out the possibility of a thief," William said objectively. "I'll go in and check it out in a bit."

Caleb nodded, choosing not to comment further. As an outsider, he had neither the reason nor the standing to involve himself in someone else's case. Whether Marcus was framed or if there were still doubts about the case had nothing to do with him.

William relaxed and shifted to a more casual tone, "By the way, I remember you used to be very good at reading people. Earlier, you mentioned seeing Marcus in prison. Can you tell me what you think of him?"

A long time ago, a witness William found had changed their testimony at the last minute in court, and they couldn't convict the criminal because of it. At that time, William struggled to make any progress with the witness. But when Caleb casually suggested focusing on the witness' child, it had led to a breakthrough.

Although Caleb wasn't always able to offer help offhand, he sometimes provided William with useful new perspectives.

Caleb instinctively began to speak, "I think Marcus is…"

Halfway through his response, Caleb suddenly realized something—he didn't actually know the answer.