Li Xiang put on a white lab coat, grabbed the toolbox placed at the office door, and followed the man out of the office.
They walked together to the parking lot and got into a police car.
"The mentor's on a business trip. We're counting on you this time!"
In the car, the man looked at Li Xiang for help.
"Don't, don't count on me. I can't do it."
"If not you, then who? I'm even less reliable! I'm a forensic assistant. I can lift bodies, but when it comes to handling a scalpel, my hands shake."
"Your hands shake? It's not surgery—are you afraid of complaints or something?"
"..."
As they chatted in the car, Li Xiang learned some things about the man in front of him.
His name was Zhang Yongliang, a forensic assistant, not a full-fledged forensic scientist, but striving in this direction.
Li Xiang thought to himself, Now we're in trouble.
In the last case, he had experts guiding his gun skills. Now, it's like the blind leading the blind. No, his own bucket is completely empty.
