"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.

The prints could also reveal a person's habits.

Most of the time, it only took one footprint for me to locate a person. My captain had once patted me on the shoulder and said, "Remember, the ground will never lie to you."

My flashback ended, and I stood up to look at the drag mark on the ground. "The person who took the item used a forklift, and he only drove it once."

Lynn was taken aback. "What?"

I pointed at the corner of the warehouse. "There is only one drag mark, which means whatever was taken was first dragged toward the forklift. After that, it was moved with the forklift." I looked at the forklift one more time. "If this were an outside job, the thief wouldn't have known where to take the forklift keys."

The warehouse was silent as everyone stared at me. Even Lynn was surprised. She looked at me, a middle-aged man in a worn-down worker's uniform with hands full of calluses. It was difficult for her to imagine me as an ordinary stockkeeper.

Lynn had no idea what to make of the contrast. “W-who exactly are you?" she could not help asking. There was respect in her tone.

I smiled but did not answer. All I did was walk toward the forklift again to gently knock on the forklift door while glancing down at the tire. The dust was pressed flat to the ground, which meant the tires had moved.

My footsteps and the clanging of metal were the only sounds that could be heard in the warehouse. The echoes were particularly loud and crisp in the warehouse's wide space. Everyone around me gradually stopped speaking as their expressions shifted from curious to solemn, and ultimately to one of indescribable surprise. They walked past this place every day, but none of them had ever noticed anything different.

Three hours later, I had deduced the entire situation from every trace and mark I found in the warehouse. I compared several other drag marks on the ground once more. The route was clear to see.

The metal cupboard, the forklift, and the side door. There was only one set of footprints throughout the entire process. "I'm done." I let out a long exhale as I stood up. The warehouse was quiet as everyone looked at me.

Tony unconsciously clenched his fist as sweat covered his palms. He looked nervous and doubtful at the same time, while Lynn looked at me with a whole new perspective. She walked to the side door and took a deep breath while slowly clicking into the security footage showing the outside of the warehouse.

Bzzt…

The sound of a machine starting was heard from inside the warehouse. The footage from outside the side door lit up, and the path toward the warehouse gradually appeared on the screen. It was quiet at first. All that could be seen on the footage was the light outside the warehouse and the security guard passing by occasionally.

Someone shouted, "Look! The lights are turned on!"

Tony quickly went closer to look at the footage with an agitated expression. This was it! The thief would be caught the moment the cameras caught him. However, his hopes lasted less than ten seconds.

Beep… Beep…

A sharp alarm was suddenly heard from the main controls, and the screen jumped. The clear footage turned red with a warning, then disappeared. The system notification indicated that the footage data had been damaged.

The hopes of everyone in the warehouse were dashed, and Tony's smile froze. "What happened? Why is the footage damaged?"

That was when hurried footsteps were heard coming from the warehouse door.

"Mr. Chapman! Mr. Chapman!" His assistant, Charlie, ran in breathlessly with a middle-aged man in a suit following behind. It was the security consultant hired by the company, Greg Walsh. The first thing Greg saw upon entering the warehouse was the crowd around the security footage. His face fell when he saw me standing by it.

"This is atrocious!" Greg yelled angrily because his authority had been challenged. "Mr. Chapman, didn't I tell you before that the warehouse investigation has to be conducted by professionals? How can you allow a stockkeeper to simply look into this?"

He went quickly to the screens and glanced at the red warning with a disappointed look on his face. He slammed the table hard. "Damn it! The footage has been destroyed! It could have been salvaged, but everything is gone now because someone looked at it without thinking!"

His words were a huge blow to everyone listening, and Tony's face fell. "What do you mean?"

Greg pointed at the screen. "Someone tampered with the system and overwrote the footage. We won't be able to continue investigating via security footage anymore."

Tony's expression turned darker with every word Greg said. Soon, his pale face turned red with anger as he suddenly turned to stare at me. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive. "James Leigh..." His voice was frighteningly low.

The contract I signed, which demanded $3.6 million in compensation, felt heavy on my shoulders. Everyone in the warehouse started whispering again. Some were gleefully waiting for more drama, while others took pity on my situation. There were some who gloated over my situation as well.

I looked right into Tony's murderous eyes and Greg's arrogant face, and I replied calmly, "He's wrong." The warehouse turned silent right away as I looked at the red screen and continued slowly, "The footage isn't damaged. This portion of the footage was deleted earlier by someone."

Greg burst out laughing. "That's ridiculous. What a bunch of nonsense!" He pointed at me and said to everyone around, "Did you even hear what he said? What does a stockkeeper know about surveillance systems? Do you know that deleting security footage requires permission from a higher authority?"

He turned to look at Tony while trying to provoke him. "You put too much trust in someone like him, Mr. Chapman. Now look where it's gotten you. The surveillance is gone, and we've lost all traces of any clues."

Tony clenched his fists slowly as the veins on the back of his hands throbbed. He pointed at me as his voice trembled with anger. "Explain yourself, Leigh, or else…" He glanced at the contract and said coldly, "Or else you won't walk out of this warehouse in one piece."

Intense pressure washed over me from every direction like a tidal wave. Tony's eyes glinted viciously at me, as if he could tear me apart the very next second. Greg stood to the side with a small smile on his face.

What little respect the workers of the warehouse had just developed for me vanished in an instant. They turned back into an audience, awaiting more drama. However, I was particularly calm. I pointed at a warehouse record in the footage on the screen and said to Lynn, "Look here."

She was taken aback but leaned closer to look.

"Number 4711," I remained levelheaded and said it loud enough for everyone in the warehouse to hear. "It's not a normal warehouse record. The real serial number for damaged equipment or system mishandling is usually the same, but this is a completely different number. This serial number means that someone tampered with the system from the outside.

"To put it simply, someone managed to bypass higher authority to modify the warehouse's security settings, which caused the system to go into auto lockdown," I said while turning to look at Greg.