Han Zheng extinguished his cigarette, turned around, and walked out, opening the door to the interrogation room. The woman lying on the table remained motionless, her breathing even and long. He raised an eyebrow, surprised at her composure.
If it were an ordinary person being dragged into the interrogation room as a suspect, they'd already be a nervous wreck. Yet, she simply fell asleep without a care in the world.
Worried she might catch a cold, Han Zheng took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He wasn't angry because he suspected her, but because she had dragged herself into this mess.
These people are ruthless killers. No matter how skilled she is, she can't possibly remain unscathed.
