I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 218

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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218 – Singapore Police Criminal Investigation Department (CID)
218.
Singapore Raffles Place.
The heart of Singapore’s financial district.
A concentration of world-renowned banks and investment firms.
A massive explosion erupted there.
It was a detonation so powerful it shook the building itself.
The aftermath was devastating.
Shattered glass fragments scattered across dozens of meters,
and the thunderous blast reverberated throughout all of Singapore.
Dozens of casualties resulted.
Dozens of ambulances moved frantically across the scene.
The acrid smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air.
It was a sight rarely witnessed in Singapore.
Tan Wei-ming arrived at the scene.
He was the senior investigator of the Singapore Police Criminal Investigation Department (CID).
Mid-forties in age.
Though a former military investigator, he was renowned for his sharp analytical mind.
He quietly surveyed the scene.
The Underground Parking Garage.
The point of detonation.
The floor bore blackened scorch marks,
and the surrounding area was littered with damaged vehicles and concrete debris.
After examining the Underground Parking Garage, Tan Wei-ming ascended to the building above.
And he soon came to a halt.
Walls.
Pillars.
Floors.
Windows.
Bullet casings and bullet marks were everywhere his gaze fell.
Dozens. No, it seemed to exceed hundreds.
These perpetrators showed no caution whatsoever.
They feared neither capture nor consequence.
There was no intention to handle this quietly or discreetly.
They simply unleashed everything they had.
Only murderous intent was evident.
He could sense it from the bullet marks.
This was not suppression—it was vengeance.
He descended back to the Underground Parking Garage.
There, something far too suspicious awaited.
There was a container in the underground parking garage that didn’t belong.
Tan Wei-ming asked.
“What type of explosive?”
“It’s complicated. Military-grade bombs mixed with C4, ammonium nitrate, diesel, potassium chlorate, and more.”
The forensic examiner answered.
Tan Wei-ming asked as if he couldn’t comprehend.
“Such a combination is possible? And military-grade bombs? In Singapore?”
“The container itself functioned as a massive bomb. The military-grade explosives merely served as a detonator, while the ammonium nitrate, diesel, and potassium chlorate mixture amplified the blast significantly. It’s clearly the work of someone with expertise.”
Tan Wei-ming muttered.
“An expert, then. That should make it easier to identify.”
“Conversely, it’s also a simple bomb that anyone with basic chemical knowledge could construct. There are far too many safety mechanisms missing for it to be truly expert work. It’s an extremely dangerous device—liable to detonate at any moment. The fact that it was transported here without detonating is remarkable in itself.”
In truth, it was the same type of container as the one involved in the port explosion in Japan, but Japan had kept that information tightly sealed.
They had merely insisted it was a film prop explosion.
Because of that, they had managed to prevent the incident details from spreading to the outside world.
“Could it have been assembled here?”
“No. When we reviewed the morning CCTV footage, the container wasn’t present. It arrived in the underground parking garage already rigged as a bomb.”
Tan Wei-ming spoke matter-of-factly.
“Either way, transporting a container through Singapore’s city center would have left traces. Let’s pull the CCTV footage.”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?”
“All the CCTV cameras in the vicinity were disabled during the explosion. We couldn’t locate the trailer carrying the container.”
“What?”
“That’s not all. All the cell towers in the area were also jammed during that time. Communications were completely impossible.”
“That… doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s why police response was delayed.”
“Witnesses?”
“When police arrived, there were no survivors—only bodies. Not a single injured person or witness. Everyone was dead.”
“All of them dead?”
“They died from gunshot wounds. In fact, each one had a bullet hole in the head, as if they’d all been executed.”
“Who were the deceased?”
“Employees of a trading company that deals in agricultural products.”
“They killed civilians?”
Tan Wei-ming spoke with barely contained anger.
“But there are quite a few strange details for ordinary employees.”
“Strange details? Like what?”
“They were all armed with firearms. They were wearing body armor as well. And we found evidence they had fired their weapons.”
Tan Wei-ming tilted his head in confusion.
What in the world was this situation?
Madmen firing guns indiscriminately.
And employees of an agricultural trading company wearing body armor and carrying firearms.
Nothing about this feels natural.
There must be a hidden reason behind all of this.
I don’t know what that reason is,
but even accounting for such reasons,
the fact remains that an enormous incident has occurred.
Yet there are far too few clues.
No—the gaps are far too large.
The Police arrived late, there’s no CCTV footage, no communication records, no witnesses?
It’s bewildering.
During my time as a military investigator,
combined with all my years in police work, I’ve never encountered anything like this.
But one thing was certain.
This was no coincidence.
In that moment, Tan Wei-ming recalled another incident.
The Marina Bay Sands Hotel incident from a few days ago.
That case shared many similarities with this one.
Dozens of black vans had appeared around the hotel.
People who weren’t soldiers entered the hotel armed with firearms.
Simultaneously, the power went out,
the elevators stopped, and communications were cut off.
I requested the hotel provide documentation,
but they claimed no records existed.
They called it a simple mechanical malfunction,
and issued only a brief statement saying it was restored in less than five minutes.
There had been a death.
But it was ruled a suicide.
I confirmed it through photographs,
and it was indeed a suicide.
Tan Wei-ming surveyed the surroundings.
There were far too many similarities to the Marina Bay Sands Hotel incident.
Above all, there were too many unexplained elements.
Then, suddenly,
a thought struck him—could it be the same people?
The similarities were too striking.
The method of disabling CCTV,
the method of cutting off communications,
even the audacious, fearless manner in which they carried out the incident was identical.
Perhaps something massive was unfolding in Singapore that the Singapore Police were unaware of.
Tan Wei-ming muttered under his breath.
“What on earth is happening in Singapore?”
.
.
.
Singapore Police Criminal Investigation Department (CID) Headquarters.
Tan Wei-ming was reviewing case files in his office.
He’d checked multiple times, but the conclusion remained unchanged.
There were simply too few clues.
No CCTV footage, no communication records, no witnesses.
Around the time of the explosion, the city seemed to have frozen in place.
The investigation proceeded with only the scant remaining evidence, leaving him at a loss.
The explosive device employed a method unlike anything he’d encountered before.
Military ordnance, C4, ammonium nitrate, diesel fuel, and potassium chlorate—all mixed together.
Simple in concept, yet intricate in construction.
The firearm, conversely, was far too common a model.
Not military-grade, no special modifications, no identifying marks.
A gun obtainable anywhere with ease.
Impossible to identify the perpetrator.
No leads on which nation or organization was responsible.
Still, the evidence needed organizing.
He was rearranging the materials collected from the scene once more in chronological order.
Then came a knock. Tap tap.
“Yes. Come in.”
“Busy?”
The door opened,
and Li Chun-hao, Deputy Director of the CID, poked his head in with the question.
Tan Wei-ming shook his head and replied.
“No. I was just organizing the files.”
Li Chun-hao entered the office and glanced at the documents on the desk. “Raffles Place?”
“Yes. I can’t fathom how such an incident occurred in Singapore.”
“Evidence?”
“None. An explosion of that magnitude, yet not a shred of evidence. They fired so recklessly, yet made no mistakes. It’s immaculate.”
“I read the report too. So? What’s your plan?”
“What else? Catch the perpetrators.”
“Without evidence?”
“We’ll have to dig from the ground up. These bastards deserve execution, but we shouldn’t make it that easy. I’d love to give them caning—daily beatings until they come to their senses. Gunfire in Singapore, no less.”
Tan Wei-ming spoke with a touch of levity.
“Daily?”
“Yes. Every day they’re alive. That’s the only way they’ll learn.”
Tan Wei-ming let out a quiet chuckle.
Tan Wei-ming let out a quiet chuckle.
However, Deputy Director Li Chun-hao did not laugh along with him.
He said nothing at all.
A brief silence fell between us.
After a long pause, Li Chun-hao asked carefully.
“Did you sense anything at the scene?”
“At the scene? No fear? Complete disregard for everything else? A madman? Something like that? He fired without ever considering capture. And what infuriates me is that there’s still no evidence.”
Tan Wei-ming answered plainly, recounting what he had felt at the scene.
“Didn’t you sense anger?”
“Anger?”
“Didn’t it seem like someone seeking revenge?”
Tan Wei-ming recalled the scene once more.
Now that he thought about it, it did feel like someone’s rage.
Bullet holes and shell casings.
Traces of shots fired while pursuing fleeing people.
Gunshot wounds to the head.
Execution shots.
Not the efficient movements of completing a mission,
but rather an overwhelming desire to kill them all.
It almost felt like retribution, like a massacre.
“…Now that you mention it, that does seem to be the case. It was closer to a massacre than an operation.”
At Tan Wei-ming’s response, Li Chun-hao nodded.
“That’s what I thought too. I could feel the anger even in the photographs.”
“But why are you asking me this?”
“I’m telling you in advance—this case will likely be transferred to the Internal Security Department.”
“The Internal Security Department? Why? We can investigate this ourselves.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Because it’s a terrorist attack? Then we should be handling it, not the ISD.”
Tan Wei-ming spoke firmly.
But Li Chun-hao shook his head.
“It’s not terrorism.”
“What?”
“There’s a strong possibility this is a case driven by personal vendetta.”
“Personal?”
“That person may have lost family, or been betrayed. That’s why he killed them all.”
“···..”
Tan Wei-ming found himself at a loss for words.
He hadn’t even considered this angle.
It was a development he never could have imagined.
Not some South American drug cartel,
but a single individual escalating a case of personal vendetta in the heart of Singapore?
Detonating bombs and firing guns?
I couldn’t believe it.
“The problem is the power this person possesses. The ability to shut down the city’s CCTV, sever communications, smuggle in explosives, and unleash gunfire. But there’s no evidence.”
“Can’t we simply uncover the evidence?”
“That’s not all. Pressure’s already coming from above. They want us to wrap this up quietly.”
“From above?”
“The Prime Minister’s Office.”
Li Chun-hao spoke tersely.
Then he continued.
“I don’t know who this person is either. But the power he wields isn’t individual—it’s state-level. The government seems desperate to avoid angering him further. If he grows any more furious, it won’t just be Singapore Raffles Place that collapses—it could be all of Singapore. Even the government appears to be under pressure.”
“Surely not···”
“That’s why I’m telling you. Don’t dig too deep. Wrap this up appropriately and move on.”
“Is that an order?”
Tan Wei-ming asked with a sharp edge to his voice.
“··· It’s advice. You’re quite a capable investigator. I want to protect you. I don’t want to see you caught up in a meaningless case.”
Li Chun-hao spoke gently.
As Tan Wei-ming stood there dazed, Li Chun-hao patted his shoulder once and left the room.
Left alone, Tan Wei-ming remained motionless for a long time.
The rage of an individual?
The rage of someone who lost their family?
No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t accept it.
An individual’s rage brings a city to a standstill?
The government fears his anger?
They’re trying to close the case quickly so he won’t grow angrier?
It made no sense.
Tan Wei-ming reviewed the documents on his desk again.
There were photographs from the Singapore Raffles Place explosion scene.
Tan Wei-ming began to grow curious, separate from the case itself.
Who could this person be?
Someone possessing such power.
And the reason for his rage.
I was desperately curious, yet still possessed no evidence whatsoever.
I murmured softly after reviewing the case files.
“Who are you?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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