Tony stared at me while saying the words slowly, "You'll have to pay for it." The workshop fell eerily silent.

"You don't have to get so serious with him, Boss." A workshop supervisor quickly stepped forward to smooth things over.

"Yeah, Mr. Chapman. He's just trying to show off."

Tony ignored them as he stared right at me. "Do you dare take up the challenge?"

The face of my wife, Vivian, flashed in my mind. Vivian was not in the best of health and required medication all year round. We did not have much savings due to her condition, and our daughter Samantha had just entered university, leaving us with insufficient funds to cover her tuition.

Since retiring, I had not been able to find a stable job. It was not easy for me to finally get hired at this factory. Dignity was nothing to me if it meant I could make a living, but that did not mean I felt all right with being disrespected.

"Yes, I do," I heard myself saying.

A cold smile slowly appeared on Tony's face. "Good!" He yelled at his assistant, "Prepare a contract right now!"

Several minutes later, a printed sheet was placed on Tony's desk, bearing the title ‘Lost Goods Retrieval Agreement’. The contents were simple. If I could find the thief and recover the stolen item within three days, the factory would reward me with $1 million. Otherwise, if I failed to uncover the truth or caused additional losses, I would need to compensate the factory for its $3.6 million loss.

Tony lit his cigarette, and the smoke wafted slowly in the air. "If you can't afford the compensation, you can pay me back by working for me your entire life."

Everyone crowded around while whispering about this.

"Is he crazy?"

"A stockkeeper trying to investigate a theft?"

"He just sold himself to the factory."

I picked up the pen and paused for a second right before inking the contract. I suddenly thought about how Vivian had held my hands, saying softly, "Don't overexert yourself, Jason," and how Samantha told me happily on the phone, "I was awarded the scholarship, Dad!" I lowered my head and slowly signed my name, Jason Leigh.

After I was done signing, I looked up at Tony. "Boss, I need the security footage of the warehouse from last night, the door entry records, and three months' worth of expenses in advance right now."

Tony was taken aback, but it took him only a second to laugh louder than before. "Hah! Hahahaha! You haven't even started work yet, and you're already demanding payment?" It sounded like Tony wanted to yell at me, but he held himself back and looked at me like I was good for nothing instead. "Fine, you can have it!"

He waved his staff from the Finance Department over to get the money, and a wad of cash soon appeared. Tony flung the money hard on the warehouse table in front of everyone. "Here, take it. It's $10,000 in advance!"

The cash fell everywhere from the impact, and a few pieces floated to the ground. Some of the money slipped under the oily crevices of the tool shelves. At that point, I could no longer hear anything around me. All I could hear was the blood rushing to my head. The humiliation was like a blunt knife slicing my heart, but I said nothing.

I bent over while dozens of eyes watched me pick up the pieces of money one by one. I flattened the oil-stained cash slowly and stacked them properly before slipping them into the pocket of my coat, which was just over my chest.

There was a young woman in front of the crowd who looked to be in her twenties. She was in a white dress and frowning slightly. She was Tony's daughter, Lynn Chapman.

I did not look at anyone else as I headed right into the warehouse. It was where the metal boxes had been pried open the night before. I stood up straight before saying calmly, "From now onward…" I walked over to the pried-open metal box and circled it slowly, as if inspecting a familiar battlefield.

The workers had dispersed to return to work, but many of them listened carefully to what I was doing, occasionally looking over at me.

Lynn did not leave. She stood at a distance with her arms crossed, looking at me with doubt and curiosity.

"I need something," I said to her.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. "What do you need? I've already instructed someone to bring you the warehouse keys."

I shook my head. "I'm not talking about the keys. I want the entry records of the warehouse, a copy of the surveillance footage, and the door entry records." I paused before continuing, "I need records from the past three months."

Lynn was taken aback while the warehouse supervisor, Wentworth, burst out laughing at me. "Do you really think you're a detective, Leigh? What's the point of investigating this? The thief must be long gone by now."

I ignored him as I stared at the ground. Several drag marks could be seen right in front of the metal cupboard. Messy footprints were imprinted in the dust on the floor, but I could still tell they belonged to different people. I crouched and touched the ground gently with my finger.

The dust was thick. That meant not many people came to this place. I turned to look at the side door of the warehouse. There was a small portion of the metal net that had been bent from being pressed, but the lock had not been pried apart. I stood up and said, "Someone came in through the side door last night, not the front door."

Wentworth was taken aback, but quickly sneered. "Everyone knows that. The locks are in one piece, which means someone climbed inside here."

I remained silent as I walked to the side door. Beneath the metal net was a concrete floor with a clear footprint. The bottom of the sole was thick, while the thread pattern of the sole was diagonal. I stared at it for a few seconds before standing up. "Only the warehouse's forklift driver wears shoes like this."

There was instant silence as the expression on Wentworth's face changed. "What nonsense are you talking about?!"

I ignored him and continued looking at the ground. The drag marks stretched all the way to the warehouse's corner, where a small emergency door was. The lock was in one piece, but there was a very faint scratch on the side of the door frame. It looked like a scratch made from a metal box being dragged out. I touched the scratch and found my fingers sticky with black oil. I turned to look at Lynn. "I want to see the security footage outside the warehouse."

Lynn frowned. "Why?"

I pointed at the marks on the ground. "The stolen item was moved out from here, but the thief did not enter from here."

Lynn's expression started to turn solemn. "What do you mean?"

I looked at the passage outside the side door and replied calmly, "Someone opened this door in advance, and it was someone from this warehouse."

"Who could that be?" Lynn's tone no longer held any contempt for me and was filled with questions instead.

I turned to look at her, and my gaze turned to Tony and the group of workers once more as they started to gather round. I told them what I had found. "This wasn't done by an outsider. This is an inside job."

My words made the warehouse break out in a huge commotion. Lynn was taken aback. She quickly went to a nearby desk to pull out a copy of the records from a pile of documents.

"But security checked everything yesterday. There wasn't any strange activity according to the door entry records." She passed me the records, which clearly stated that the warehouse door had not been opened during the night.

I glanced at the words and smiled slightly. "They were checking the wrong records."

Lynn was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

I pointed at the side door. "The thief did not enter from the front door. The metal net on the side door was bent from being pressed, but the lock is intact. That means someone opened that door in advance and closed the door from inside the warehouse."

With that, I pointed at the ground. "There are marks of something being dragged here. The boxes were dragged out from the inside, but the footprints are headed in only one direction."

"That means whoever moved the item knows this place well." The warehouse slowly turned silent, and Tony frowned.

"That doesn't mean anything."

I looked at the clear footprint on the ground. "Shoes with a sole like that are only worn by the warehouse's forklift driver."

The crowd started whispering amongst themselves as Lynn looked solemn. "Are you sure?"

I did not answer immediately, instead walking toward the metal cupboard. The cupboard lock had been pried apart, but the scratch marks were faint. I touched the scratch with my finger. The side of the metal was almost intact, and I stood up to announce, "The lock was pried open after the theft to make it look like it was an outside job."

The warehouse was instantly silent as everyone stared at me. A freshly-hired stockkeeper had overturned the security team's investigation results, which had taken an entire day, in only a few glances.

Tony looked shocked as he glanced back and forth between the ground and the pried-open cupboard door, while Lynn was stunned. The condescending look in her eye vanished when she looked at me. All that was left was shock.

"This is all just talk," Tony broke the silence as his face fell. "Find the culprit if you claim this to be an inside job. All I care about are results."

"All right." I did not say anything else as I went to the side door. A thin layer of dust could be seen on the ground outside the door. I crouched and slowly traced the mark on the ground with my finger. The drag marks led to a corner of the warehouse, where the forklifts were parked. I stood up and looked at the forklifts.

Dust was stuck on the wheels, and I went over and lowered my head to look at them. The tire marks matched the marks on the ground. Everyone around me eventually quietened, and the people who were laughing at me stopped talking because none of them had noticed those marks before.

I continued toward the forklifts and found a very faint oily handprint on the forklift door. I saw a new scratch on the side of the chair, and I reached out to touch it. The oil on it had not dried yet.

Lynn could not hold back any longer as she asked me a question, but I did not answer her. All I did was look up at everyone in the warehouse and turn my gaze around until I stopped at one person. It was the forklift driver, Jonah. He was standing at the back of the crowd, looking a little pale.

I said calmly, "You were the only one on night shift last night."

"Oh my gosh! What you did…" Lynn's voice was trembling slightly as she spoke in a low voice. "Not many people could learn the truth from the investigative method, especially with the evidence you found."

Such a method required considerable experience and observation, and one could easily reach the wrong conclusion if a single detail were overlooked. I did not look up and continued crouching on the ground as my finger slowly compared the footprint on the ground and the forklift tire threads.

"This isn't theoretical to me," I spoke calmly, "When I was on assignment overseas twenty years ago, this was a basic requirement." I paused to wipe the sweat from my forehead before looking up at Lynn to continue with composure, "I worked security detail in the Middle East twenty years ago, and I was in charge of ensuring the safety of the warehouse and transporting goods and warehouse items."

Memories of that time flooded my mind as I flashed back. I was in my twenties, wearing a bulletproof vest, standing outside a gigantic warehouse filled with essentials like supplies and provisions. The warehouse was surrounded by armed personnel.

My responsibility was simple. The moment I received a mission, I had to find that person as quickly as possible. There was no advanced technology nor complex equipment to help me back then. I could only rely on the tracks on the ground to help me.

They could be footprints, drag marks, or tire tracks. I needed to find out where they were headed.