After a long time, Fucheng asked, "...I bought a candy factory? So now we are putting all the wreckage in the candy factory's warehouse?"

Zhuo Huan kept looking down at the mobile phone screen, and he spoke without raising his head, because he was very careful and his voice was slightly soft and slender: "Well, these cars are also from the candy factory... Buy one and get five free, which is quite cost-effective."

Fucheng smiled slightly.

Gao Yun: "..."

Next moment: "May I ask, are you still recruiting people in UAAG?"

Fucheng: "..."

The car drove smoothly on the mountain road. Because it was loaded with many precision parts, it took twice as long to return to town this time than when I came.

It was dark and it was not until ten o'clock in the evening that everyone returned to the town.

Fucheng and Gao Yun directed the workers to transport the wreckage of the plane into the warehouse according to the category. The charred wreckage of the plane was carefully sent to the warehouse by the workers and then divided according to the category.

The last truck also slowly drove into the factory. Su Fei jumped out of the passenger seat. He raised his hand and took the black box handed over by the driver. This thing was very heavy. When he carried it, Su Fei's shoulders couldn't help but sink a little. Seeing this, Fu Cheng walked over and said, "Do you want help?"

The punk boy waved his hand and said, "I don't need to, I'm used to carrying this thing. Last time, RIP asked me to carry this thing from Boston to Finland."

Fucheng looked down at the black box.

The originally orange-red black box was burned into scorched black by the fire. Due to the violent impact, a shallow dent was knocked out on its surface, and each of the eight corners was worn. In addition to the obvious dent, there were many scratched fine marks. Fucheng was probably rubbed by the parts of the plane when the black box was thrown out of the plane.

It doesn't matter these thin marks, Fu Cheng's eyes stopped on the dent.

The black box of the aircraft requires extremely high resistance to impact, high temperature fire, acid corrosion, etc. Its production materials are very expensive, and ordinary crushing will not cause any trace to the surface.

Fucheng: "It seems that the impact force is very strong when the crash occurs. Will it affect the reading of data?"

Su Fei observed carefully: "It shouldn't be. I'll fix it tomorrow and see what the situation is."

The two were talking when a low voice rang out from behind them.

The candy factory bought by Lina is located outside the town of Schaffhausen, near the rushing Rhine River. The famous Rhine Falls are right next to it. The sound of water is the only sound in the quiet town's moonlit night. The white river water hits down and splashes out snow-white foam.

Zhuo Huan's voice was mixed with the loud sound of water, and there was almost no emotion. At least Su Fei and Gao Yun didn't notice anything unusual, so Fu Cheng raised his head and looked at him in surprise.

"About Martha Airlines, Joseph, the old man found some information."

...Uncle Zhuo seemed very unhappy.

Next to the warehouse of the candy factory is a four-story factory office building.

The bright high wattage lights dispel the night, and the conference room was as bright as day. Zhuo Huan wiped the sales data of the candy factory on the whiteboard and wrote a black marker on it.

『MARSHA』.

Then, he continued to write down the three lines of words "Martha Flight 123", "Geral Truffaut", and "Lyon Lorraine", and then used a marker to connect Martha Airlines and Martha Flight 123 together. Everyone looked at the whiteboard seriously and waited for Zhuo Huan to continue connecting the names of Martha Airlines and the two pilots, but Zhuo Huan's lips were pursed and a big fork was coldly made between the two.

Everyone was stunned.

Zhuo Huan turned around and covered the pen cover of the marker.

After a crisp click, he threw the marker on the table with an unhappy expression.

"In fact, Martha Flight 123 is indeed affiliated with this airline, but these two pilots... are not employees of Martha Air."

Fucheng quickly said: "The pilot does not belong to the airline, what does it mean?"

Zhuo Huan turned to look at him, his voice was extremely cold, as if suppressing his anger: "Literally, the airline owns five aircraft in total, with flight permits for passenger and cargo in Switzerland and EU member states. But all five of Martha's aircraft are safe and sound at present, and this Martha Flight 123 is the sixth."

Gao Yun exclaimed: "How is it possible? Before we arrived at the scene, the hospital had contacted the relatives of the two pilots. They asked Martha Airlines about the pilot's emergency contact number. If they were not Martha Airlines pilots, why did they drive this plane? Why did Martha Airlines have their emergency contact number again?"

Zhuo Huan raised his hand back, bent his fingers and knocked hard on the whiteboard with his knuckles.

"You should ask first, since this mysterious plane does not belong to Martha Airlines..."

"Why is it called Martha 123."

***

Scotland, East Lothian County.

The southern bank of Forth Bay is a vast plain. The Tyne River flows through it, like a long white jade belt embedded in the turquoise earth. The moonlight slowly sprinkles, and sparkles are shining.

Go west along the banks of the Tyne River, about two kilometers away, on the cliffs, a towering and ancient castle stands on the top of the waves.

This is an ancient castle in Baroque style. The gray-black exterior walls record its magnificent history of being hit by wind and rain. A deep burst gap next to the doorpost is a trace of heroism left by its enemy's attack in the 14th century.

In a room in the castle, the wall lights reflected the dim light.

There was a burst of rapid footsteps in the corridor outside the door. The man walked quickly and quickly, and his leather shoes stepped on the bricks of the castle, making a clattering sound. But he was obviously anxious and crazy, but when he walked to the door, he suddenly stopped and knocked on the door gently, and could only enter with the permission of the people in the house.

"Please come in."

The carved door was pushed open, and the middle-aged man in a suit had red eyes and said, "Sir, the lady has confirmed it, it's... Master Geral."

In front of the tall large floor-to-ceiling window, Mr. Truffaut, with silver hair, closed his eyes.

The housekeeper said: "Sir, do you want to prepare a special plane to Schaffhausen for you?"

"No need. Wait until he comes back."

The housekeeper was hoarse and finally couldn't help saying, "But sir, Young Master Geral is no longer here!"

Mr. Truffaut's eyes passed through the cold silky glasses, looked back at him, and said coldly: "So I mean, wait for his body to come back."

***

Small town hospital, Schaffhausen, Switzerland.

The small town hospital in Schaffhausen has never received so many guests. During the day, it is surrounded by reporters. It is not until Lina sends all the reporters away that it returns to its usual tranquility.

At the entrance of the ICU ward on the third floor of the hospital, Lyon Lorraine, the captain of Martha Flight 123, was quietly lying on the hospital bed. His skin was almost burned, and there was no complete skin. Even his eyelids were burned, revealing the terrifying eyeball blood vessels.

The doctor also wanted to bandage his wound so that the burned skin would not be exposed to the air, but this would speed up his death. The burned parts were all ulcerated and pus. As long as the gauze touched it, it would stick to it. Once it was pulled, it would be a large piece of bloody skin.

Blood and pus flowed all over the bed.

The doctor said that his survival was simply a miracle, but no one knew whether he could survive tonight and how many days he could live. He was still unconscious, but perhaps the coma was the best ending for him. Because as long as he woke up, he would definitely encounter the most terrible pain he had ever experienced in his life. This pain would definitely accompany him for the rest of his life that he was destined to not have long until he died.

Outside the ICU ward is his wife and daughter. They were already crying and they were exhausted and sat on a chair and snuggled up to each other.

When Fucheng walked to the third floor of the hospital, he saw the mother and daughter who hugged each other and fell asleep. He stood still and looked for a long time, but he still couldn't bear to wake up these two people who had finally gained peace. He went downstairs and came to the first floor.

At the door of the morgue, Mrs. Truffaut leaned against Lina's arms, trembling all over and sobbing in a low voice.

Fucheng walked forward, squatted down, and said softly: "I'm sorry to bother your wife, please feel sorry. I am an investigator at UAAG and Lina's colleagues. At present, my colleagues are checking the wreckage of the plane and investigating information about Martha Airlines. We have some doubts about the profession of the two pilots, so Zhuo Huan... Patrick asked me to ask the pilot's family members to see if I can get clues from you."

Mrs. Truffaut glanced at Fucheng powerlessly. She wanted to speak, but her choked throat made her unable to speak.

At this time, Lina's hoarse voice rang, and Fucheng looked up at her.
Chapter completed!