Wen Yan thought of the feeling he had yesterday—separated by such a distance, not even acquainted, not even targeting him, and he could still directly trigger the Natural Enemy alert. That meant Pei Tugou's ability must be quite strong.
And judging from the info on professional abilities Wen Yan got from Feng Yao, plus what happened to Pei Tugou yesterday, and the prompt's content, he could more or less draw some conclusions.
Pei Tugou himself definitely doesn't know he has an ability; combined with that "honest man" label, Wen Yan figured, most likely, the more someone fits this label, and the more desperate they are, the stronger this ability will be if it gets activated.
Though Wen Yan was young and nowhere near as experienced or sharp as the old-timers, he had his cheat, so he could be sure—Pei Tugou really was an honest man.
As Wen Yan was mulling this over, Feng Yao was looking at her laptop, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
"Man, this guy's really shameless. I actually thought the Duanzhou Chemical Plant hadn't paid him, and he'd genuinely lost too much money."
"Didn't expect, last night the dude dropped over thirty grand, and there's over three million in cash on that personal card he spent with."
"Even with that, he still doesn't want to pay the workers the few thousand yuan he owes them."
"Let's see, aside from Pei Tugou—who came to collect yesterday—there are quite a few more complaint records."
"Going by this, there might be over a hundred workers still owed back wages. How does this guy even dare?"
"Wait a minute, I think I've just found a clue about the Chemical Plant case..."
Feng Yao snapped her laptop shut and stood up.
"Huh?" Wen Yan looked baffled—this really ties back to the chemical plant case?
"One of the complaint records, there's a worker, a few months ago, still working for this contractor."
"It was a different small project at the chemical plant. Then, after the worker complained and got his money, he quit."
"But I just checked the logs. The guy bought a train ticket—but never got on. Disappeared without a trace, and nobody's reported him missing all this time."
"If this contractor hadn't died and dragged the chemical plant into it, we probably never would've linked these together."
"He only hired temps to save money, probably signed bogus contracts—or none at all—so there's barely any official record."
"Whatever, I'm heading out first..."
Feng Yao hurriedly made for the door.
"Don't worry about those unpaid wages, someone will be in touch. The guy's estate easily covers it."
Wen Yan reached out, meaning to say more, but Feng Yao was already striding away.
He felt, since he'd taken the Scorching Sun Department subsidy, he'd better show some professionalism.
Like, for instance, discussing with Feng Yao whether it was possible Pei Tugou came to collect, failed, and then, for a few thousand yuan, charged hundreds of kilometers overnight from Duanzhou to Virtue City to take out the bastard now lying there—leaving no traces and not showing up on any security cameras.
But obviously, Feng Yao hadn't even considered suspecting Pei Tugou.
After listening to Feng Yao talk so long, Wen Yan himself was getting uncertain too.
The pink-shirted contractor might've gotten mixed up in something shady, or said something he shouldn't have, and was hanged up here as a warning to shut others up—that definitely sounded more plausible.
Wen Yan thought it over, took out his phone, and called Pei Tugou.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here—Wen Yan?"
"Just calling to tell you, your boss is in trouble—he's dead."
In Duanzhou No.1 Hospital, Pei Tugou was stunned, and then felt pretty upset.
"Heard he got wasted and drove, then died after."
Pei Tugou was tongue-tied, not sure what to say. He felt a little sorry for the boss, but honestly, he was more worried that the back pay he was owed might never come through now.
As soon as he heard the news, he gave up the idea he'd had before. To him, when a person dies, debts are written off. Even if he was upset, he could only accept it.
Wen Yan, hearing Pei Tugou's silence, tried to reassure him.
"Don't worry, I asked around. The estate is actually plentiful. And it's not just you he owes, right? All the unpaid wages will get settled—you can relax."
"I thought... I thought he didn't have any money. Now that he's gone, what'll happen to his wife and kids? Or should I—should I..." Pei Tugou hesitated, at a loss for words. He was secretly a bit happy hearing he could get paid, but figured since someone had died, he should let it go out of respect for the dead. But glancing at his sick mother in the hospital bed, he couldn't bring himself to say it—he was feeling all kinds of conflicted.
"Big bro, are you still at the hospital in Duanzhou?"
"Yeah, yeah, I came back yesterday."
"Yeah, they're all right. Doctor said recovery is looking good."
"That's good. Just focus on taking care of your family. Don't worry about the rest."
After hanging up, Pei Tugou's wife looked at him, full of concern.
"Did something happen?"
"Boss got drunk and drove—he's gone."
"What? How does someone just drop dead like that? I guess you won't get your wages now, huh."
"Not necessarily. That young guy I met yesterday, really nice, said they'd settle the estate and pay us. The other workers will get paid too... It's just, I saw him yesterday, and now he's just gone..."
He thought the boss was being a bit heartless not paying them, but he did genuinely believe the boss was broke—after all, it wasn't just him, none of the other workers had been paid, and it really was a lot of money.
He figured there must be a few thousand owed, but if they paid him, would the others get paid too?
All the guys complained about the mean boss, saying he'd get hit by a car sooner or later, but honestly, no one really wished for him to die. If the boss was dead, who would pay out the wages?
Pei Tugou held his phone, spread the news about the boss's death to his coworkers, and asked around to confirm. Since the man was dead, you had to double-check if it was true—if he wasn't, and you went around telling everyone, that wouldn't be right either...
Wen Yan didn't hang around for the autopsy. Scorching Sun Department had sent three people; they spent half the day in the autopsy room and gave the surface conclusion—death by asphyxiation due to drunkenness, a pure accident.
The woman in the pink shirt's wife—young and pretty—showed up, cried for a bit, then watched some surveillance video Scorching Sun Department had pulled up. The footage showed the man in the pink shirt driving drunk, stumbling out of the car, falling on the curb, tilting his head, and not moving again.
Just as that wrapped up, the labor inspection team called the pink-shirted guy's phone, saying a bunch of migrant workers had come to the office demanding wages and telling him to hurry up and settle them.
The wife asked around; turns out, if she wanted to inherit the estate, she'd have to pay off those debts.
It was barely midday, but as soon as the wife confirmed the inheritance, she signed right away, agreed to cremation, and even paid for the luxury furnace—demanding her husband be cremated today.
And she didn't even stick around—she left in a hurry.
Wen Yan was there for the whole thing, and looking at the casket beside him, couldn't help feeling speechless. The other colleagues just looked calm, like nothing surprised them anymore.
With no next of kin on site, just two funeral home employees pushing a cart with a speaker on it—the speaker looping firecracker sounds—they made a lap around the courtyard, and that was the whole sendoff.
In less than fifteen minutes, the man in the pink shirt was pushed into the luxury furnace. Old Zhang from the cremation department fired it up and waited nearby, with two Scorching Sun Department people supervising the whole time.
Not even a minute later, there was a bout of crackling, thuds, and even faint wailing and sobs coming from inside the luxury furnace.
Wen Yan's face changed—he involuntarily stepped back.
Old Zhang grinned and tried to reassure him.
"Don't be scared. You know about thermal expansion and contraction, right? When the air in the lungs heats up, it expands and pushes out. When it hits the vocal cords, it makes noise. Totally normal."
Old Zhang was in the middle of explaining when even louder thumping came from the crematorium, and there was a faint growling mixed in.
This time, not just Wen Yan—even the two Scorching Sun Department supervisors took several silent steps back, right along with him.