Ji Yuan tapped his fingers on the table, his tone cold: "Ask him if he knows Jing Song."
The officer questioning the officer received instructions and pulled up Jing Song's photo: "Do you know this person?"
Chen Zhuo subconsciously raised his eyes, took a quick look, and then lowered his head again.
He spoke quickly, as if trying to hide something: "No...I don't know him."
When he said this, his tone was erratic and his eyes were flustered, typical signs of a liar.
Just as the officer was about to ask another question, Chen Zhuo suddenly clenched his fists and slammed them on the table, making the iron tabletop clang loudly.
"I've already said it. I was jealous of that man's wealth, so I killed him."
The officer waved his hand slowly and said, "Then please recount the murder."
Chen Zhuo was speechless for a moment: "I...I..."
The officer sneered, "This auction house is the largest auction trading center in the Federal Center. They will conduct a financial assessment of everyone who participates in the auction. You can't get in at all, let alone kill people."
Chen Zhuo's face suddenly turned pale.
He wanted to say something, but his lips trembled and he couldn't utter a word.
Thinking of something, he leaned back in his chair and said, "Anyway, I went in and killed someone. The only evidence on the body is mine."
The officer looked at Chen Zhuo for a long time, then he sighed softly and said casually, "Is it really worth it to go to jail for someone else..."
Chen Zhuo was trembling all over. He gritted his teeth and refused to say another word.
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