149: Chapter 149 Ghostly Encounter

The two Indian men ran around Room 206 with their hands over their heads.

They couldn't understand how the drones, which they had clearly moved into this warehouse box by box, could have vanished into thin air.

"Don't panic. We're in China; they can't do anything to us," one of the Indians finally calmed down.

"But we won't be able to go back home. We'll never be able to bathe in the holy waters of the Ganges or eat delicious curry again. What's the point of living then?"

"Shut up! The priority is to find those drones immediately. Let's go find the property manager. The items were lost in their warehouse, so they must be responsible."

The two of them closed the door and rushed to the property office. During this time, the Middle Eastern man kept calling them, but the Indians hung up every time.

Without finding the drones, there was no point in talking to him.

The property manager was leaning over his desk writing a proposal when he felt a strange smell hit his nose—a sour stench of curry mixed with months of not bathing.

He had experienced this smell a week ago, so the property manager knew who was coming before the two Indians even entered.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The property manager stood up and opened the window, frowning at the two. If it weren't for international relations, he would have called security to kick them out long ago.

"The goods we stored in the warehouse are gone. Your company must give us a satisfactory explanation." One of the Indians shivered and looked at the open window with some dissatisfaction.

"Gentlemen, our Logistics Park has 24-hour surveillance, and the passwords for every room are reset after a lease ends. No one besides the property management and the tenants would know them. Therefore, it's impossible for goods to go missing."

The property manager just wanted to get rid of them quickly and said impatiently, "Perhaps you should go back and ask your companions if someone else took the goods without telling you."

The other Indian immediately shouted, "Impossible! We've been in the same room ever since we finished moving the goods. It must be your fault!"

The property manager, afraid the man would spit on him, hastily took a few steps back. God knew if these two Indians carried any strange viruses.

"Calm down, you two. Our warehouse is equipped with 24-hour surveillance. If you suspect we moved the items, you can go check the footage."

The Indians looked at each other. "Fine, take us there."

The property manager reluctantly led the way. When the three arrived at the security room, the guard saw the manager and quickly stood up to salute.

There was a whole wall of screens, with various camera angles split into dozens of small squares, recording everything happening in the park in real-time.

"Pull up the surveillance for Building 2."

The security guard didn't dare delay. Enduring the stench from the two Indians behind him, he began to retrieve the footage for Building 2.

Soon, the small squares were covered by four enlarged video feeds. The guard adjusted the timeline, dragging the video back to midnight a week ago.

"This is the two of you, right?" the property manager said, pointing at the two people on the screen with disdain.

These two Indians were truly poor; they hadn't even hired loaders for their goods, instead moving everything themselves with great effort. During the process, the two of them had even taken a crap in the corner, which made him feel nauseous just watching.

The view switched to the second floor. Since the camera was installed at the end of the hallway, they couldn't see the room number, but they did indeed leave after putting the items into the room.

The footage continued to play, but then the lens shook, and the screen went black.

"This camera might have malfunctioned," the guard said uncertainly. He fast-forwarded for over two hours until the image gradually returned. From then until the two Indians arrived just now, no one had entered or exited Room 206.

As if possessed by Conan, one of the Indians grabbed the property manager's collar. "How could the camera suddenly break and then suddenly fix itself? There's no such thing as a coincidence! You must be behind this. Give us back our goods!"

The property manager felt like he was being pickled in the smell. While struggling to break free from the Indian's grip, he argued loudly, "A brief camera malfunction doesn't prove we stole your goods! Besides, the cameras downstairs are working fine, and I didn't see our people moving anything out from downstairs!"

If Zhang Wei were on the scene, he would have patiently explained it to him. The surveillance downstairs was fine because he had An Xiaoxi overwrite the previous content, thereby hiding the footage of him and Tang Yi going up and down the stairs.

As for the surveillance upstairs, he had intentionally had An Xiaoxi black out the screen to make it impossible for the property management to explain what had happened during that time.

Otherwise, if the footage only showed the Indians moving things in and no one moving them out, wouldn't it seem like a haunting in broad daylight? It wouldn't make logical sense.

The Indians wouldn't let the property manager off so easily. This batch of goods was a matter of life and death for them.

After they had been scuffling for a while, the security guard couldn't stand it anymore.

"Manager, if it really comes down to it, let's just call the police."

The property manager thought it made sense and nodded quickly. "Right, Xiao Wang, call the police directly. I'll see what they have to say then."

The guard picked up his phone and was about to dial 110.

"Don't call the police!" the Indian hastily grabbed the guard's hand, preventing him from dialing.

Was this a joke? Calling the police over goods for a terrorist organization would be like turning themselves in. If the police found anything, they wouldn't even be able to stay in China.

Moreover, if the people in the Middle East found out, they might think the two had sold them out. They would likely be gunned down as soon as they arrived back in Curry Country.

Seeing the property manager and the guard looking at them suspiciously, the Indian forced himself to stay calm. "It's such a small matter, it wouldn't be good to trouble the police. We'll go back and ask if a friend moved the things."

After saying that, he pulled the other man and left the security room.

The two returned to the second-floor hallway and searched again, refusing to believe their luck.

"Look, Brother. There's actually a Room 204 here? I remember it wasn't here before?" one of the Indians pointed at the neighboring door in surprise. The number 204 was clearly on the doorplate.

"Was it a haunting that night? I've heard the Chinese talk about 'Ghost Hitting the Wall.' Did a ghost take our goods?" That Indian trembled, looking terrified.

"What's there to be panicked about in broad daylight?" the older Indian thought for a moment, frowning.

"This must be the work of those cunning Chinese people. They saw we were foreigners and easy to bully, so they used a scheme to steal our goods."

He immediately slapped his thigh in anger. "We men of Curry Country are not to be trifled with. Come on! Let's go get a crowbar."

The two returned to their van, grabbed a crowbar and a hammer, and went back to the second floor. They began smashing wildly at the door of Room 204.

Soon, the door lock began to emit a screeching alarm.

Three or four security guards, holding riot forks as if facing a great enemy, ran upstairs and surrounded the two Indians.

"These Indians really are up to no good. Surround them, everyone, and don't let them get away!" one of the security guards shouted, cursing.