The next morning, just as work started, Zhang Biao organized the entire criminal investigation team for a new round of investigation deployment.
The conference room was already packed, and everyone's face was shrouded with a layer of fatigue that was hard to conceal, eyes bloodshot.
Even Zhang Biao himself was no exception.
He stood in front of the whiteboard, one hand on the edge of the table, holding a laser pointer in the other.
Though he was over forty-five years old, the constant pressure from long years on the front line had left his eyes red and his eye bags deep.
However, he still stood perfectly straight, his expression tense, like a fully drawn bowstring, with a focus and alertness that did not lose to the young men in their twenties in the team.
He scanned the conference room, cleared his somewhat hoarse throat, and began: "Starting today, we'll split into seven teams and conduct a radiated investigation centered around the crime scene."
