Volume One: Shadows of Espionage Fill the City

Chapter 01: Fog Shrouds the Capital

Midsummer is the hottest season of the year in the capital.

Traveling during this season is never a good thing—the heat feels like a sauna, people swarm like ants, and the cars are packed so tightly that everyone is honking. Everywhere is crowded with cars and people. And then there’s the smog in the sky, joining the chaos, gray and heavy like a giant pot lid covering everything.

A poem praises this scene: Look up and you can’t see the sky, look down and all you see is traffic jams.

Look, it’s jammed again.

On the road leading to the Third Ring, the traffic crawled at a turtle’s pace, slowing down until it finally stopped. A business van marked “Harman Business Investigation” was trapped in the flow of cars. The window rolled down slowly, and a female driver with shoulder-length short hair and delicate features stuck her head out, looking worriedly ahead, then behind—no end in sight either way. Her lovely face was clouded with worry, as if covered by a layer of smog.

She quickly rolled the window back up. In this weather, going maskless in broad daylight takes real courage. She loosened her seatbelt, simply turned off the engine, and casually took a can of soda from the mini fridge in the car, handing it to the man in the passenger seat who had been absorbed in his newspaper.

“Mr. Brooks, we’ll have to wait a while,” she said.

The man lifted his eyelids, signaling that he understood, but didn’t take the drink she offered, replying casually, “No thanks, I don’t drink carbonated beverages.”

The female driver hesitated, didn’t open the can, and put it down again. In the workplace, you can’t afford to seem too casual, especially in front of your boss. Even more so in front of the company’s general manager, whom she rarely met.

During the silence, she stole a few glances at the focused Manager Brooks. Square face, neat and proper, a simple casual shirt giving off a relaxed vibe, and an old-fashioned Citizen watch on his wrist—so understated it bordered on shabby.

But appearance and substance often don’t match. In the business investigation industry, half the people know the name of Harman’s general manager, Jason Brooks; the other half have business dealings with Harman Business Investigation. Friends, acquaintances, and old contacts make up this circle, which seems mysterious to outsiders.

The circle isn’t big, but Harman and Mr. Brooks have quite a reputation. Many in the industry know Mr. Brooks’s rise: over a decade ago, he was a penniless college student, had run street stalls, traded scrap iron, sold coal, dabbled in the internet, tried everything from IT to VC, never succeeded at any of them. Yet, these repeated business failures somehow made him thrive in the business investigation industry, and in just a few years, he turned a small company of a dozen people into a leader in the field.

Oh, and the most crucial point—the female driver seemed to recall: Mr. Brooks is unmarried.

At this thought, she quietly checked herself in the rearview mirror to see if her appearance was flawless. Not bad—the epitome of a mature, dignified businesswoman. She glanced down at the front of her OL blouse—good, the curves were still there, assets still sufficient.

She observed for a long time, but as always, was disappointed. Mr. Brooks was very focused, seemingly oblivious to anything else. Just as people in the industry called him “Eunuch Xie” behind his back, it was rare to see him cast a covetous glance at any woman.

So, she started looking for a topic—one of the workplace rules: silence is not golden; speaking up is how you win. For women in the workplace, if the unspoken rules don’t work, you have to play by the rules and show your abilities.

She saw Mr. Brooks turn to a page in the newspaper and found her topic, speaking softly: “This might affect our business.”

It was a report titled “Capital Police Launch Crackdown, Shutting Down Over Thirty Business Investigation Companies.” She had read it—it covered several cases involving private detectives, aggressive debt collection, and marital investigations that led to criminal cases. More than thirty business investigation companies had their licenses revoked, and dozens of people faced criminal charges. In the capital’s business investigation industry, this was a rare major action.

“It definitely will,” Evelyn Carter, you’ve been in the business for a few years now. What’s your take on this?” Jason Brooks asked unhurriedly, only turning his head after he finished speaking. In front of him was a well-dressed, experienced subordinate with several years of work under her belt.

Her name was Evelyn Carter, 29 years old, the company’s legal advisor and business manager. Like every industry, having a bit of a beauty effect helps in business dealings, and Evelyn Carter was undoubtedly that person.

The beautiful driver spoke confidently: “The ‘Seventh Amendment to the Criminal Law’ added three crimes related to infringement of personal information. Most of the investigative methods we use now—signal tracking, accessing call records, wiretapping, surveillance—all count as crimes. In theory, business investigation companies aren’t at fault; the law allows them. The problem is with the investigators’ actions. But in reality, almost all business investigators might use these illegal methods. Now, this situation is putting huge pressure on our entire industry.”