Chapter 53

Emma knew Zoey well. Although she was annoyed, she still paid the money.

Two hundred and fifty dollars were transferred to Zoey's account.

Zoey received the money and her mood improved significantly. She went from a cold attitude to vividly describing the case to Emma, with clear logic that made it feel like Emma were there. She even described many details.

Emma felt that the two hundred and fifty dollars were well spent.

At the most critical moment, Zoey wanted to drink some water, and Emma kept her eyes fixed on her.

As Zoey drank water, urged her to hurry up.

Until the entire case process was fully explained, including how they discovered there were two killers, how they found the dismembered body parts underground, and how Lawrence insisted on taking the blame... Emma was dumbfounded, as if she were in a detective movie.

Emma remarked, "No wonder so many people want to join the criminal investigation department. This is so different from the small things we handle every day. You have to outsmart criminals every day."

Zoey said, "Pretty much."

Emma still felt a bit unsatisfied and wanted to ask more details, like what the human flesh looked like after being dismembered, and how it compared to regular pork.

Various questions floated in her mind, and she was about to ask when another intern, Zack Watson intervened. He the two of them together and thought there was some new announcement from the police department, so he asked, "What are you talking about? Is there something going on?"

Emma glanced at him, "Discussing a case."

"A case?" Intern Zack got interested and sat down, asking, "What case? I want to hear it too."

Emma thought about the two hundred and fifty dollars she spent and looked at Zack. She said to Zack, "Pay two hundred and fifty dollars for the case analysis fee."

"Why do I have to pay to hear about a case? Are you kidding me?" Zack's eyes were clear, thinking she was joking.

Seeing his expression, Emma looked at him seriously. "Really, it's a fresh big case, a serial killer dismemberment case!"

Hearing about the serial killer dismemberment case, Zack suddenly remembered that someone from their police department was assisting with the case.

He was curious about it too, because this was happening around him.

"You know?" Zack asked again to confirm.

Emma nodded, "Of course, I just heard it. If you want to hear it, scan the code."

Zack realized it was Zoey who told her and looked at Zoey warmly, asking, "Zoey, can you tell me?"

"I'm a bit tired." She said while yawning.

Seeing Zoey wanting to sleep, Zack had to negotiate with Emma again, "It's not the latest from you; give me a discount and let me listen."

Emma knew her storytelling wasn't as good as Zoey's, so she pretended to be in a difficult position, "Considering we're colleagues, I'll give you a 20% discount, so give me one hundred and eighty-eight dollars."

"One hundred and eighty-eight dollars?" Zack was first surprised, then laughed, "I might as well wait for Zoey to tell me the original version when she feels like it."

Emma was silent, feeling annoyed. Her aversion to Zoey was steadily intensifying.

But she didn't want to miss out on Zack as a customer. Emma said, "Then you say, how much."

Zack said, "Eighty-eight dollars."

Emma had no choice but to agree, "Fine, scan the code."

Zack happily scanned the code, and eighty-eight dollars were transferred to Emma's account.

As Emma was reflecting on the $250 she had transferred to Zoey, a lucrative idea suddenly crossed her mind.

Eighty-eight dollars per person, if she told three people, wouldn't her two hundred and fifty dollars be recovered?

Just as she was calculating in her mind, a familiar payment code interface appeared in front of Emma again.

She followed the phone to find its owner, and it was Zoey.

Zoey said, "Transfer twenty dollars to me."

Emma looked at her puzzled. "Why? Didn't I just pay you in full?"

Zoey explained, "Copyright fee."

Emma was silent and had to transfer another twenty dollars.

Emma was helpless and had to transfer it.

Zoey made two hundred and seventy dollars in an hour and was in a good mood. She put on her headphones and left the rest of the storytelling to Emma. She casually found some soothing music and started writing her novel.

She hadn't asked her family for money since she was eighteen.

Actually, she did ask, but her family didn't give her any more.

Zoey's daily expenses were all earned by herself through work-study programs. Her parents' excuse was that they knew she had the ability.

But Zoey knew that it wasn't that her parents didn't have money to give her, but that they believed spending money on a girl like her was a waste.

Their money could only be spent on Derek, even if he wasted a few hundred dollars, they wouldn't mind. This was her parents' deeply ingrained gender bias.

Thinking about the past, Zoey's face darkened.

The fact that she was still alive meant she indeed had the ability to survive in society!

Soon it was noon; Zoey had just finished eating and wanted to go back to the dorm to sleep for a while. As she walked out of the police station, she saw her teacher John pulling two people apart. She was about to turn around and leave.

Unexpectedly, John had good eyesight and saw her immediately.

John said, "Zoey, come here!"

Zoey took a barely noticeable deep breath in frustration.

She tried to slow her steps, but still reached the door in a few steps.

In front of her, besides her and John, there was a middle-aged man and a woman.

The woman curled up on the ground, unable to evade the brutal beating from the middle-aged man.

"Bitch, can't you stay still for a day? I'm busy as hell outside, and you're out here messing around with other men? Fuck, I'm going to kill you today!"

Zoey hadn't had a chance to see the woman's face clearly, but she could roughly understand what was going on from the man's shouting.

They were right at the police station entrance; as apolice officer, She had to stop him.

After pulling the middle-aged man away from the woman, she bent down to check on the woman who was clutching her stomach. Her face was pale.

Seeing Zoey trying to help her up, she looked at Zoey's hand but had no strength to take it.

"Are you okay?" The woman's hair appeared somewhat greasy, indicating it had likely been two or three days since she last washed it. Combined with the cold sweat from the beating, which clung to her disheveled strands, she looked utterly disheveled..

It was clear she had been enduring her pain. The woman said, "No, I'm fine."

Zoey noticed she was holding her abdomen tightly and asked, "Is your stomach injured?"

The woman didn't speak.

Seeing Zoey comforting the woman, the middle-aged man started cursing again, "Do not let her frail appearance evoke your sympathy; she is nothing but a wretch, utterly undeserving of anyone's pity!"