412: Littli was taken away

“Continue the investigation. Focus on the movements of these suspects, especially their financial transactions and private contacts.”

Li Yang’s gaze fell on the names circled in red on the report, his tone steady but with an unshakeable resolve.

“Yes!”

Xia Quan responded in a deep voice, then turned and left quickly, his steps conveying a decisive and vigorous momentum.

After arranging the follow-up work, Li Yang picked up the investigation report and walked towards Ou Ben’s office.

In the office, Ou Ben was frowning in contemplation at a light screen. Seeing Li Yang enter, he put down his work and gestured for him to sit.

“These are the latest investigation results.”

Li Yang pushed the report over, his fingertip resting on the Vice Speaker’s name.

Ou Ben picked up the report, his gaze sweeping over the key information. The calmness on his face was instantly replaced by surprise, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Are you saying... the Vice Speaker has issues?”

He put down the report, his fingertip tapping lightly on the desktop, his tone full of disbelief.

“This shouldn’t be...”

Ou Ben was silent for a moment, deep thought etched on his brow.

Although the position of Vice Speaker usually held no real power, like a sinecure, he was, after all, the first in line to replace the Chairman.

According to regulations, if there were any changes on his side—whether a promotion, reassignment, or any other situation—he would automatically take over as Chairman.

With such a status, he shouldn’t have needed to take such a big risk to get involved in corruption. Once exposed, let alone taking over, he probably wouldn't even be able to keep his current position.

He looked up at Li Yang, his eyes filled with confusion.

“He’s sitting on a ‘sure-win’ hand. Why would he take such a risk, to get involved in something that could cost him his head?”

Li Yang leaned back in his chair, his fingertips rubbing his chin.

“Perhaps it’s precisely this ‘sitting pretty’ status that made him the most suitable pawn—who would suspect someone who appears to have no desires, just waiting for their turn to take over, of secretly making moves behind the scenes?”

The air in the office grew quiet. Ou Ben looked at the Vice Speaker’s name on the report, feeling for the first time that this colleague, who usually had almost no presence, was like a bottomless well, hiding too many unknown secrets.

“What? You know this Vice Speaker well?”

Seeing Ou Ben’s incredulous expression, Li Yang couldn’t help but ask.

During his time in office, he had met most of the important personnel in the administrative center, but this Vice Speaker seemed to live in legend. The lights in his office were perennially dim, and a thin layer of dust covered his nameplate on the conference table. He had only met him fleetingly a few times.

Ou Ben’s fingertip drew circles on the desktop, his tone hesitant.

“I don’t know him well, but I’ve dealt with him a few times. Vice Speaker Wang Wen indeed rarely shows up, and he seldom attends even departmental meetings. I heard he’s so idle that he spends most of his time studying star map surveying.”

He shook his head, his brows still furrowed.

“I really can’t connect him with the words ‘corruption.’ Even if such a person were corrupt, he wouldn’t choose to act during a strict anti-corruption campaign, would he?”

Li Yang tapped the report with his fingertip, his voice deepening.

“Whether he is or not, we’ll only know after investigating. The reverence hidden in rules can also become a sharp tool for exploiting loopholes.”

He paused, then looked up at Ou Ben.

Looking at Li Yang’s eyes, Ou Ben also nodded silently.

“Indeed, you’re right. So, what’s your next step?”

“Since the preliminary investigation has a direction, we’ll start with the small fish on the periphery.”

Li Yang tapped the desktop emphatically with his fingertip, his gaze as sharp as an eagle’s.

“These small characters clinging to the network of interests are often the easiest links to loosen. Prying open their mouths will allow us to follow the vine to find the real big fish behind it.”

Ou Ben’s hand paused, and he looked up at him.

“Who do you plan to start with?”

“Liteli, the Director of Mining Safety Inspection in the Ministry of Energy.”

Li Yang spoke the name without a trace of hesitation in his voice.

Ou Ben nodded upon hearing this, his brows relaxing slightly.

“This is a very stable choice. Liteli’s position isn’t high, so he can indeed only be considered a small fish, but the sector he is responsible for is crucial—the clearly problematic Class A safety report for Kolos Planet was signed and approved by him. Intervening under the guise of ‘re-examining safety hazards’ is legitimate and won’t cause too much alarm.”

“Exactly.”

He paused, then looked at Ou Ben, his eyes deepening.

“This small fish might just be the breakthrough...”

“Alright, if you need anything, I’ll cooperate with you at any time.”

Ou Ben nodded in response, his tone steady and conveying the strictness of official business.

“Then I thank Chairman Ou.”

Li Yang nodded slightly.

“It’s all in service of the Empire, part of our duty.”

...A few days later, in an office in the Ministry of Energy building, Liteli was sighing at a light screen, his pen writing something on the desktop screen.

On the screen, the words “Self-Criticism Report on the Kolos Star Mining Accident” were particularly glaring.

Although the Investigation Team above had concluded the investigation, citing it as an accident, he, as the Person in Charge of mining safety inspection, was still required by the Minister of Energy to write a self-criticism report by hand.

“Damn it... I clearly communicated with the Person in Charge over there before, telling them to lower the energy threshold. How dare they stubbornly operate overloaded?”

He irritably ran his fingers through his hair, jabbing the screen hard with his pen tip.

“Fortunately, the Investigation Team only considered it an accident and didn’t investigate deeper, otherwise...”

He didn't finish the sentence, but he shivered.

The office door suddenly burst open, and several people in black uniforms filed in.

“Who are you?! Did you knock before entering my office?!”

Liteli sprang up from his chair, his hands pressed on the desktop, trying to cover the unease welling up in his heart with an angry glare.

He looked at the unfamiliar faces in uniform before him; they were definitely not the usual departmental staff in the building.

The Person in Charge stepped forward, his movements steady, and pulled out an ID from his pocket.

“Director Liteli, we are from the Discipline Inspection Commission.”

His voice was flat, without a ripple.

“The Class A safety mining report for Kolos Planet, the final approval and signature were yours, right?”

“Dis... Discipline Inspection Commission?”

Liteli’s voice suddenly caught, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat.

His previously taut shoulders instantly slumped, his fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of the desktop, his knuckles white.

He opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but only managed a muffled gasp. Finally, he could only lower his gaze, his voice trembling as he responded.

“Yes... I signed it.”

“In that case, please come with us and cooperate with the investigation.”

The Person in Charge put away his ID, his tone still flat, but with an unchallengeable firmness.

Before he finished speaking, the two individuals beside him had already stepped forward, grabbing Liteli’s arms, one on each side.

The force was immense, making his bones ache, leaving him no room to struggle.

“Wait! Can I... can I make a call?”

No one heeded his request. The two Discipline Inspection Commission members, holding the almost limp Liteli, walked steadily towards the office door...

“What? Liteli was taken away by the Discipline Inspection Commission?”

In the office, the man sprang up from his chair, his pen clattering onto the desktop.

His pupils suddenly constricted, a vein pulsed on his forehead, and his tone carried unconcealed alarm.

“When did this happen? Why would they suddenly arrest him?”

The subordinate reporting bowed his head, his voice trembling.

“Just now, the Discipline Inspection Commission members directly barged into his office, saying they wanted to investigate the Kolos Planet incident... The specific reason isn't clear yet.”

The man paced a few steps with his hands behind his back, the sound of his heels tapping the floor particularly jarring in the quiet room.

After the initial panic, he forced himself to calm down, rubbing his chin and muttering to himself in a low voice.

“The Discipline Inspection Commission taking Liteli away... they can’t just arrest someone out of thin air. What do they want to investigate? Wasn’t the Kolos Planet incident already concluded as an accident?”

A terrifying thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and his steps halted.

“Could it be... they discovered something?”

The more he thought, the more alarmed he became, cold sweat breaking out on his palms. His gaze fell out the window—the spires of the administrative center were faintly visible in the clouds, like a sharp sword hanging over his head.

Just as he was feeling uneasy, the light screen suddenly vibrated, displaying an encrypted message.

He hastily opened it, his fingertips trembling slightly from the force.

The message was short, only a few lines, but it caused his tense shoulders to slowly relax.

“So it’s an issue with the safety inspection report...”

He let out a long breath, leaned back in his chair, a sense of relief on his face, which then turned into a hint of contempt.

“This guy is really unlucky. He didn’t keep a close eye on one report and actually got caught by the Discipline Inspection Commission.”

The message clearly stated: The Discipline Inspection Commission took Liteli away because the Kolos Star quarterly safety report he submitted contained multiple instances of data fabrication, suspected of dereliction of duty. Although this was troublesome, it was ultimately just a “procedural issue,” far from touching the core interest chain.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers gently tapping the armrest.

“It seems he just had bad luck and ran into a storm. Keep a close eye on the situation over there, and report immediately if anything happens.”

“Pass a message to Liteli.”

The man tapped the desk rapidly with his fingertips, his voice as cold as ice.

“Tell him to weigh his options carefully—which words to say, and which to keep to himself. He should understand the consequences.”

Liteli was, after all, one of their own, and knew the “boundaries” far better than outsiders, but some bottom lines absolutely could not be crossed.

“If he doesn’t understand...”

A cold sneer escaped the man’s throat, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.

“There are plenty of ways to make him ‘obedient’.”

After all, anyone who had made it this far in this line of work had a few hidden cards up their sleeve. If it came to a complete fallout, Liteli would have to weigh the cost.

The subordinate responded and withdrew, and silence returned to the office.

The man looked at the deepening night outside the window, but a subtle doubt flickered in his eyes—the Discipline Inspection Commission hadn’t investigated earlier or later, but precisely at this critical juncture, they brought up the safety report. Was it really just a coincidence?

...The lights in the Discipline Inspection Commission interrogation room were not particularly bright, but they carried an undeniable stillness.

Liteli sat on the opposite chair, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the seam of his trousers. Although his heart was pounding like a trapped deer, he tried hard to maintain a calm expression, as if the interrogation before him was merely routine work communication.

The Discipline Inspection Commission member sitting opposite him spoke in a gentle tone, but his gaze held a penetrating calmness.

“comrade Liteli, we invited you here today because we hope you can set aside your concerns, actively cooperate with our work, and truthfully explain the relevant issues. Rest assured, the Empire has always valued the care and consideration of comrades, so there’s no need to have any psychological burden.”

“No psychological burden...”

Liteli silently scoffed in his heart. The words sounded easy, but if he were to truly lay everything bare, how could it be so simple? He took a slight breath, the pressure from his fingertips unconsciously increasing.

At that moment, the Discipline Inspection Commission member opened the folder in front of him, his gaze falling on one of the pages, and looked up to ask.

“comrade Liteli, was the safety inspection report for Kolos Planet inspected and approved by you?”

Liteli’s Adam’s apple bobbed. At this point, further concealment was clearly futile.

He composed himself, his voice steady but barely concealing a trace of tension.

“Yes, I approved it.”

As the words left his mouth, the stone hanging in his heart felt like it had gently dropped, only to be immediately entangled by more complex emotions—the questions that followed were likely the real crux.

“Why was the safety inspection report clearly marked as Class A, yet such a major accident occurred on Kolos Planet?”

The Discipline Inspection Commission member on the left leaned slightly forward, his gaze calmly fixed on Liteli, his tone betraying no emotion but carrying an undeniable pressure.

Liteli’s Adam’s apple bobbed again, his fingertips quietly clenching on his knees, his face struggling to maintain composure.

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head, his tone deliberately kept even.

“I only know that during the on-site inspection at the time, all indicators indeed met Class A standards, and it was approved according to proper procedures.”

His mind, however, was already in turmoil—how could he not know? The loopholes in that report, the fabricated data, the hidden dangers on site... he knew it all better than anyone.

But the words were bitten back, not a single one escaping his lips.

“Is that so? But according to our investigation...”

The person on the right turned to the next page of the document, about to continue questioning, when the door to the interrogation room suddenly opened.

A middle-aged man in a dark uniform walked in, the insignia on his epaulets exuding authority in the warm light.

He had a tall, erect posture and sharp eyes, and as he scanned the room, he exuded an aura of unspoken power.

“Director Tang!”

The two Discipline Inspection Commission members who had been sitting immediately stood up, their voices clearly respectful.

The newcomer was none other than Tang Shan, the Deputy Director of the Discipline Inspection and Supervision.

He didn’t look at Liteli, only raised his chin to the two of them.

“You two go out for a moment.”

The two exchanged glances. Although they had questions, they dared not ask more, quickly responded “Yes,” and quietly exited the interrogation room.

The door was gently closed, cutting off the sounds from outside.

The interrogation room instantly became silent, with only the faint sounds under the warm white light.