Chapter Fifty-Five: Worlds Apart, Yet So Near

The War Against Sin Marquis of Anlu 7388 words 2026-03-20 04:54:47

After many days, the White Tiger Squad gathered once again at their secret base in Mingcheng University.

Li Weiwei sensed something unusual about the atmosphere today, and her intuition told her that Zhao Zhijie wasn’t himself—he looked discouraged and dispirited. She privately wondered if he had been working overtime without enough rest, or if something else was troubling him. Though she had no idea what had happened, she was certain Zhao Zhijie was out of sorts. Not only Zhao Zhijie, but Haifeng, Qiu Zhiyong, and Liu Zhiyang all wore anxious expressions, each of them burdened by worry.

Once everyone had arrived, Haifeng began, “Now that we’re all here, let me brief you on the case.”

He continued, “Three days ago, Principal Zhu from Mingcheng University contacted us, reporting that a faculty member had embezzled public funds. Director Qiu assigned me to investigate, and Zhao Zhijie happened to be with me at the time, so we went together to Mingcheng University and gathered a preliminary understanding of the situation.”

After a pause, Haifeng went on, “The teacher involved is named Zhang Ming, who works in the university’s textbook office and is responsible for purchasing students’ textbooks.”

“Three months ago, Zhang Ming met a girl online, who persuaded him to gamble on a website called SpinachNet. Zhang Ming ended up losing a total of thirteen million two hundred thousand yuan on this site, of which two hundred thousand were his own savings, and the rest was school funds designated for students’ textbook purchases.”

“Our task now is to locate this gambling website as quickly as possible and find a way to recover those public funds. The money concerns over thirty thousand students at Mingcheng University, so we must act fast and try to recover the funds before the suspects can transfer them elsewhere.”

Haifeng then turned to Zhao Zhijie, “Tell everyone what you’ve found in your investigation over the past couple of days.”

Zhao Zhijie nodded, stood, and said, “Based on the information provided by Zhang Ming, I tracked the gambling website, but the results are not optimistic. The site uses Ali’s CDN acceleration servers, and its domain is registered through the notorious ‘Godfather’ service, making it impossible to trace the server location. I attempted to penetrate the site, but was unable to get in.”

“As for payments, the site uses Zhibao, Ali’s subsidiary, for fund transfers. I tried multiple times, but each transfer went to shell companies. The payment process seems to route funds through fourth-party platforms to money laundering companies, so the trail is completely lost.”

“According to the website, it claims to be an offshore gambling company operating under Maltese law, but I have no real information about its actual status. This is the current state of my investigation.”

Haifeng nodded and said to Zhao Zhijie, “You’ve worked hard, no need to lose hope—I know you’ve done your best.” He then turned to Li Weiwei, “Weiwei, it’s up to you now. Can you pinpoint the website’s location?”

Li Weiwei finally understood why Zhao Zhijie was so downcast. After hearing Haifeng’s question, she replied, “I can’t guarantee I’ll break through, but I’ll take a look and attempt it.”

She turned to Zhao Zhijie and asked, “You hit a dead end because of Ali’s servers, right?”

Seeing Zhao Zhijie’s affirmative glance, Li Weiwei continued, “If they’re using Ali’s CDN acceleration and Ali refuses to provide client data, it’s indeed extremely difficult to breach. They have a world-class cybersecurity team, and trying to break through their defenses is a thousand times harder than attacking the gambling site directly. Without bypassing this barrier, it’s almost impossible to trace the real location of the gambling site.”

After Li Weiwei finished, Zhang Mufeng spoke up, “Getting Ali to cooperate and provide client data is nearly impossible. As far as I know, many major cases have requested Ali to release client information, but they always refuse. As a multinational company, they are strict about privacy, earning the reputation of ‘the Swiss bank of the internet.’ Even criminal cases won’t make them hand over client information.”

Li Weiwei nodded and continued, “I don’t recommend trying to break through via Ali. It’s better to attempt a direct assault on the gambling site.”

Zhao Zhijie was puzzled by Li Weiwei’s suggestion. He knew that breaking through directly would be ideal, but that was precisely what he couldn’t accomplish—Ali’s presence was the biggest obstacle, all traffic was routed through Ali, making it impossible to locate the site.

He didn’t understand what Li Weiwei meant by breaking through directly.

Seeing Zhao Zhijie’s confusion, Li Weiwei explained, “From a trace-tracking perspective, Ali’s presence does disrupt tracking the gambling site. However, the solution is simply to switch to a foreign IP.”

“These gambling sites typically use Ali’s acceleration servers to speed up access and for security, but if you use a foreign IP, you’ll find they don’t use Ali’s CDN outside the country. That eliminates the headache of Ali’s formidable technical defenses.”

Zhao Zhijie listened and felt awakened from a dream. His expertise was in trace tracking, so he tended to look for clues from a tracker’s mindset, rarely considering problems from a hacker’s angle. This habitual thinking had trapped him in the misconception that breaking through Ali was the only way to locate the gambling site.

Li Weiwei’s words made him realize he had set up a psychological barrier for himself. Changing the perspective often makes the solution apparent.

Li Weiwei continued, “But gambling sites usually have distributed servers. Even if you find the address, you’ve only breached the first barrier—you still need to follow the trail to find the real location of the criminals, and that can’t be done quickly. We’re racing against time, so this approach won’t work.”

Zhao Zhijie had thought that overcoming Ali would solve everything, and he felt renewed confidence in continuing the trace. But after hearing Li Weiwei’s explanation, he realized she was right: time was now the most critical factor. If they didn’t locate the criminals soon, the funds would likely be transferred, and the operation would fail. Tracking the gambling site required considerable time.

Zhao Zhijie fell back into dejection. Li Weiwei saw him hang his head in despair and almost wanted to laugh. She changed her tone and said, “However, if we launch a direct attack on the website, the problem becomes much easier. Once we break through, we’ll know their location.”

Zhao Zhijie looked up, suddenly enlightened, “Yes, once the site is breached, everything will be clear. You should be able to handle this, right?”

Li Weiwei shook her head, “Gambling sites have their own technical defense teams, so I can’t guarantee success. It’s quite possible we’ll still need to rely on trace tracking to solve the case.”

Zhao Zhijie felt as if he’d been doused with cold water again, lowering his head in silence.

Haifeng listened to everyone and realized this case was indeed a tough one. Finding the gambling site through financial tracking was almost impossible, and technical means were not easy either.

More importantly, if the website was truly based in Malta, a legitimate gambling site under Maltese law, legal jurisdiction would become a major hurdle.

Haifeng knew well that gambling was a lawful industry in Malta, with casinos everywhere. Even if they found the site’s place of business, recovering the funds would be extremely difficult.

After some thought, Haifeng said to Li Weiwei, “Let’s try to break into the website. You and Zhao Zhijie work together on this. The rest of you, sort through the shell companies Zhao Zhijie found. See if there’s any connection among them and try to find clues from that angle. That’s all I have—let’s get started!”

Qiu Zhiyong, who had been silent the whole time, spoke after Haifeng finished, “Haifeng, you and Liu Zhiyang, come see me off.”

Haifeng looked at his old mentor, nodded, and left the room with Liu Zhiyang to accompany Qiu Zhiyong.

On Mingcheng University’s sports field, Qiu Zhiyong asked Haifeng, “This case seems tough, doesn’t it? You don’t look very confident.”

Haifeng replied, “It is difficult—too specialized! Professional recruiters for gamblers, professional money laundering teams, professional network defense teams, and professional gambling operations. Every link is handled by experts. Taking down such a black chain is no simple matter.”

He paused, then continued, “They’re far more professional than us. In traditional cases, we usually have the upper hand: they fight with bare hands, we have batons; they use knives, we use guns; they have numbers, we have more. We have overwhelming advantages in every aspect, thanks to the principle of escalation in force.”

“But against cybercrime, fists and weapons are useless. In fact, criminals have much stronger weapons in the online world. Their technical training, equipment upgrades, and mastery of cutting-edge technology surpass ours. That’s their powerful arsenal. Worse still, the boundless nature of the internet lets them hit us with overwhelming force.”

Qiu Zhiyong was puzzled by Haifeng’s mention of overwhelming force.

Haifeng explained, “Our country’s ability to fight cybercrime is uneven. Southern developed cities are far ahead. They prioritize cybercrime, have the best equipment and the finest teams, and have been on the front lines, taking down many cybercrime groups—though they’ve also tempered a number of such groups.”

“These groups have little advantage against police in regions focused on cybercrime, and are easily suppressed. But when they turn their attention to us, they’re five, even ten years ahead, giving us a crushing disadvantage.”

“Moreover, Mingzhou has paid little attention to cybercrime in recent years, neglecting team development and equipment upgrades. Our cyberattack capabilities are poor, and our equipment is outdated. We don’t even have a proper team.”

Qiu Zhiyong asked, “Not even the White Tiger Squad?”

Haifeng glanced at him and smiled wryly, “Everyone performs brilliantly—our only real force to rely on. But some things are hard to change. Zhao Zhijie worked hard to break through the website, but still couldn’t manage it.”

“He’s one of our top technical talents, but he spent years in Mingtan, and his best equipment is two or three years old. His skills are still behind. He tried hard to trace the site but simply lacked the capacity, and doesn’t have Li Weiwei’s mindset. I know he’s done his best, but it’s just not enough. That’s the reality in Mingzhou. Now we can only hope Li Weiwei can do what we couldn’t.”

Qiu Zhiyong felt powerless. In the real world, he could accomplish many things, and even if he couldn’t do them himself, he had vast connections to help him. But in the online world, titles and networks meant nothing, and his familiar investigative techniques were useless.

This made Qiu Zhiyong realize that only a technically advanced, specialized team could effectively combat crime in cyberspace. That was his original intention in secretly assembling the White Tiger Squad.

After hearing Haifeng, Qiu Zhiyong thought for a moment and asked Liu Zhiyang, “What about legally? Any problems?”

Liu Zhiyang replied, “As long as we catch them, there’s no issue with legal applicability—I’ll make sure they’re prosecuted and punished. But recovering the stolen money will be very difficult.”

“It’s another country, after all. For the purpose of fighting crime, they’ll be happy to cooperate on extradition, but as for the illicit gains—if they’re domestic, it’s easier. If abroad, nobody wants to hand over hard-earned cash.”

“So it’s hard to transfer the assets along with the suspects. If criminal proceeds flow abroad, it’s ineffective in fighting crime. Just like the previous case with Chai Xian’s gang.”

“Yes, Chai Xian and his group were punished, but we didn’t recover much of the proceeds. The girls who were harmed haven’t seen their pain lessened, and the dead can’t be brought back. Worse still, the ‘Little Prince’ is still living luxuriously in his free kingdom, spending the money Chai Xian earned for him.”

“We took down Chai Xian’s gang, but the Little Prince can always find another agent to do the same harm to our country and our youth, while remaining untouched. So that case wasn’t really a success.”

“If we capture the gambling ring now but can’t recover the transferred funds, the outcome is the same. We can make noise for the public, but how much loss can we actually recover? In the end, it’s the ordinary people who suffer.”

“We’re past the age of chasing fame. If we act just for show, it’s pointless. Also, as I said, getting them prosecuted depends on actually catching them. Malta does cooperate with us on law enforcement, but gambling is legal there—anyone can openly run a casino, so it’s not a crime.”

“If we ask them to cooperate in arresting people, Malta won’t understand why gambling is illegal here, so it’s hard to get their assistance. In other words, the chances of bringing them back are slim.”

Qiu Zhiyong looked at Liu Zhiyang. It was the first time he’d seen Liu Zhiyang look so discouraged. He knew Liu Zhiyang was right. Justice wasn’t just about arresting people—it’s about reducing the losses of ordinary citizens, minimizing harm to victims, and, in cases of cross-border crime, reducing national loss.

If all you do is arrest suspects, and after a few years in prison they emerge with vast illicit gains to live in luxury, you’re not fighting crime—you’re enabling it, and encouraging more to follow that path.

As the saying goes, “Murder and arson bring golden belts, building bridges leaves no corpses.” If this belief takes hold, and murder and arson mean only four or five years in prison, many will choose crime—trading a few years of hardship for a lifetime of wealth, as there’s no better business.

That was what Qiu Zhiyong never wanted to see.

He had Haifeng and Liu Zhiyang sit with him on a bench. “I used to think like Zhiyang,” he said. “I haven’t encountered cybercrime, but traditional crime brings the same problems.”

“Take those investment frauds, for example. Suspects are caught, but thousands of ordinary people lose millions, spent away. Those suspects live by swindling—doing a few years isn’t a big deal, and they’ll cheat again after release. But what about the ordinary people? Some invested their retirement savings—they’ll be left destitute!”

“I felt that failing to recover losses for the people, just arresting suspects, was merely completing a task, not a true victory against crime. It felt like dereliction.”

He looked at Haifeng and Liu Zhiyang, who remained silent and stared at him. Qiu Zhiyong continued, “People used to call me a police hero, a nemesis of evil. I solved many major cases, but I never felt like a hero. It was all just publicity.”

“Sometimes I felt like a wise man after the fact, but a fool before—better than those who are fools all along, but still unable to truly protect the people from harm.”

“I even questioned the meaning of my work, wondering if I was using the people’s suffering as a stepping stone, arresting criminals just to advance my own career. But is that really right? Is that truly what being a police officer is about?”

He paused, then went on, “Later I understood that some things are beyond our ability to solve. Maybe they’ll be solved as times progress, but for me then, they were unsolvable.”

“Even if I could only be wise after the fact, I wanted the people to believe justice exists, that the law is inescapable. I wanted criminals to pay for their actions. Of course, I did everything I could within my power to prevent crime and recover losses for victims—that made me feel better.”

He looked at Haifeng and Liu Zhiyang, and smiled mischievously, “Back then, human rights weren’t emphasized. For especially wicked criminals, I’d even torment them, to make them fear crime so much they’d never want to reoffend after release.”

“I felt it compensated those who suffered at their hands. While I don’t support violence for violence’s sake, I know not everyone can be reasoned with—some only understand fear, even death. I won’t tell you how I did it; it’s not for you to use now.”

He looked up at the sky and continued, “I know you’re facing many challenges, but it’s better now than before. Technology has advanced so much—we can even predict crimes, become prophets. That was unimaginable to me back then!”

“Of course, our tech isn’t perfect, and we have a long way to go, but it’s much better than before. Your case is hard, but you have the White Tiger Squad—an elite team even Qiao Yuqian envies!”

“I know you want to recover the money and make the students whole. You’re dissatisfied if you can’t, but things must be done step by step. Progress is what matters. Making the recovery of losses your goal is right, but even if you fail, it’s okay.”

“But one thing is non-negotiable: never let the criminals get away. Even if you have to pay out of pocket, make sure they face justice. Only by truly punishing evil and promoting good can people choose to be good instead of turning to crime. Money is important, but faith is more important.”

He paused and continued, “Remember, good people must be rewarded, bad people punished. Don’t let the ‘four or five years in jail, then rich for life’ happen again—stop this unhealthy trend.”

“You have this responsibility. Don’t let the law bind you—the law’s purpose is to punish evil and protect the people, not protect criminals or shackle you.”

“You should know the law better than the criminals. Since they exploit loopholes and play tricks, let them realize the law isn’t just words on paper, but written in the heart. Let them know if they try to escape punishment, we police know the loopholes better, and escaping justice will bring even harsher consequences.”

Qiu Zhiyong looked at Haifeng again, “I told you to keep an eye on Li Mengyang, but when someone wanted to expel him from the White Tiger Squad, I stopped them. Not everyone in the force should act like Li Mengyang, but we still need people like him.”

“In some ways, he understands the law better than you. He can kill legally and reasonably, leaving no loopholes for you to find. That’s his strength. To deal with those who want to evade justice, someone like Li Mengyang can be invaluable. But Haifeng, I hand you the knife, not to use it recklessly—use your judgment!”

He looked at his two old protégés and said, “I’m old, and my help is limited. You’re not young either, soon you’ll retire from the front lines. I just hope before that we can do something more for the country, the people, and the young. Don’t be afraid of your limitations. Give it your best, and believe in these young people. Someday, they’ll realize the dreams you couldn’t.”

With that, Qiu Zhiyong smiled at his two protégés, and the three middle-aged men laughed together. Haifeng and the others knew Qiu Zhiyong was right. They knew that forging ahead was right, that believing in the young was right, and that in the fight against crime, they would only get better.

Qiu Zhiyong’s pure dream remained unchanged, as always. They continued to give their all for this beautiful country. And once more, united by their shared faith, they stood at the front lines of the battle against crime.