Chapter 1215 Club Solstice’s External Agent
Wynter glanced at them. “No need to trouble the technician team. Get them to handle the data archive. I’ll handle the chat logs myself.”
Everyone in the room was rendered speechless. Were all new crime specialists so versatile nowadays?
Joanne, who stood beside Wynter, didn’t speak any further. Instead, she picked up the documents Wynter had placed on the table earlier. She saw that Wynter had written something on the paper.
Joanne’s eyes widened in surprise as she read the words on the paper.
She knew that the Special Unit’s members were extraordinary, but seeing it firsthand was different.
Wynter had only flipped through the pile of documents casually, yet she remembered everything and identified obvious clues.
Joanne had heard of geniuses who could quickly summarize and find patterns among a mass of data. Indeed, the Special Unit was not for ordinary people.
She glanced at the documents again. The word “accomplice” was particularly noticeable. There was a note next to it, saying “business?”
“Joanne, are we really allowing her to restore the chat logs? It’s my first time seeing a non–tech person do it.”
Joanne snapped out of her thoughts. “From what I see, she’s faster than the tech department so far.”
Indeed, in just half an hour, she had uncovered so many clues. Before this, they usually spent ages just watching the surveillance footage.
Who would have thought that Wynter would come and astonish everyone? She monitored ten screens at once, each covering different time periods simultaneously. She was indeed impressive.
“Alright, stop standing here like a mascot. Can you watch eight or nine screens at once?” Joanne asked.
“Even if I wanted to, my eyes wouldn’t allow me. Which team is she from?”
Rub Solstices External Agent
“I have no idea. But I must admit, experts are built differently,” Joanne replied.
“If she actually recovers the chat logs, then she truly is exceptional! She doesn’t even look that old. She’s probably still young, and tech experts don’t usually look like that.”
If Wolf were here, he would demonstrate what true talent meant. Genius had nothing to do with age.
Meanwhile, Wynter connected Hazel Walsh, one of the girls‘ phones, to a laptop using a data cable. Data transmission and virus implantation were fastest through a data cable.
Her fingers danced swiftly on the keyboard. The scene mesmerized the people watching from outside the window.
“Can she really recover the chat logs?”
Wynter didn’t look elsewhere. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor as lines of code continuously appeared.
The phone screen synced with the computer, and social media apps were opened and closed one after another.
Finally, Wynter paused the screen on the most commonly used app for sharing insights–Instagram.
Hazel had posted photos of Club Solstice and some guides. The posts started in March last year.
“Hawford’s must–visit bar! Perfect for photos! The vibe is spot on!”
Someone commented, “No way, sis. We can’t get in.”
It didn’t take her long to reply, “Babes, I forgot to mention that they have a face- control policy. DM me if you have the looks and figures. I can get you in without spending a single dime. We can drink together.”
Following this lead, Wynter swiftly recovered their chats from Instagram. Hazel seemed to be casually recommending the bar. But in reality, it seemed more like she was an external agent for Club Solstice.