Chapter 825: A Narrow Escape

“Xiao Lin, go check over there!”

The police were searching the empty building. Lin Qiupu, holding a flashlight and gun, was carefully inspecting the row of rooms on the west side of the fourth floor.

He kicked open a door, revealing the empty room. As he stepped out, a belt suddenly wrapped around his outstretched arm. Someone had been lying in wait outside the door. Lin Qiupu instinctively pulled the trigger, but the gun only fired once before it was taken from him.

This was the first time he had fired his weapon in the line of duty, and his heart sank the moment he lost control of it.

The attacker struck his head with the gun butt. Unlike in the movies, a single blow didn’t knock him out. Lin Qiupu was only momentarily dazed before his hands were bound with the belt. His flashlight dropped to the floor and rolled away, eventually falling down the stairs.

He was immobilized and extremely uncomfortable. The smell of the person behind him was oddly familiar. Trembling, Lin Qiupu asked, “Senior, is that you?”

There was only silence in response.

His colleagues, hearing the gunshot, rushed to the floor. Seeing Lin Qiupu being held by a masked assailant, they were shocked and aimed their guns. Team Leader Zhang shouted, “Do you know the consequences of kidnapping a police officer? Drop the gun now!”

The assailant fired at the ground in front of the officers. His aim was precise, and the three smoking bullet holes left many officers in a cold sweat.

“Song Lang, is that you?” Zhang asked.

The attacker gestured with his gun for them to back off. As they hesitated, Lin Qiupu, full of resolve, shouted, “Don’t worry about me, shoot!”

“They won’t abandon you,” the assailant said, his voice hoarse and low. “If I kill you, you’ll be a martyr, and the shooter goes to jail. What kind of police officer would do that? Get out of my way!”

The officers had no choice but to clear a path. The attacker pressed the gun to Lin Qiupu’s temple, moving slowly to the other side before descending the stairs. The rest followed, their sweaty hands gripping their guns tightly.

As they went down, Lin Qiupu considered trying to knock the assailant down the stairs. But the attacker seemed to read his mind and whispered, “If you move, I’ll shoot.”

“Then you’ll lose your hostage,” Lin Qiupu retorted.

“Who said I’d shoot you? I’ll shoot your colleagues.”

This threat struck a chord with Lin Qiupu, quashing any thoughts of heroics.

Zhang, trailing behind, used his radio to alert the officers below to seal the entrances and call in the SWAT team for backup. Hostage situations could drag on for hours, and even with SWAT, the strategy was to wait for the assailant to make a mistake and then take them down.

When they reached the second floor, the assailant suddenly fired several shots into the ceiling before handing the now-empty gun to Lin Qiupu and pushing him forward. Then, he leaped out of a window without glass.

No one expected this move. The officers were stunned by the gunshots, and by the time they realized what had happened, the assailant was already outside.

Zhang rushed to the window and saw the assailant land on a car before jumping to the ground and running off.

“Chase him!”

By the time they reached the ground floor, the assailant had vanished into the dense network of alleys, leaving the police frustrated and defeated. A question hung over everyone: “Was he really Song Lang?”

“Does Song Lang have such skills?” someone asked.

“Of course he does,” Zhang replied. “Though he seems like a brains-over-brawn type, he’s actually very skilled in physical combat, shooting, and more. He just doesn’t show it often.”

Lin Qiupu leaned against the police car, silent. Zhang, thinking he was in shock, offered him a cigarette, saying, “You’re lucky. If he’d taken your gun, you’d be in big trouble.”

“Officer Zhang, the witness clearly saw Song Lang, but this guy was covered up. How did the witness recognize him?”

“Good point. That witness didn’t leave contact info, which is suspicious.”

“Let’s search the building again. There might be someone else.”

In a subsequent search, they found another person: a disheveled girl with tattoos on her hands. She claimed she had no place to stay and was spending the night there. She admitted hearing gunshots but claimed to know nothing more.

After repeated questioning, she stuck to her story and denied knowing the assailant. They had no choice but to release her.

By the time Kavi left the police station, it was 2 AM. She felt the night had been interminably long. Eager to get home, she found the alley unusually quiet, the old man at the entrance freed, likely by the bandaged man.

Inside, the bandaged man was gone. Disappointed, she searched everywhere and then remembered to check the attic window. She found him crouched on the roof like a gargoyle.

“Are you Batman?” she teased.

“I didn’t know how to say goodbye. I was going to leave quietly, but you caught me.”

“Did you just hold a cop hostage?”

“I had no choice. It was the only way to escape. It was really risky!” he laughed bitterly.

“There’s a bit of wine left. Have a drink with me!”

Reluctantly, he joined her downstairs. Drinking together, in this intimate yet perilous moment, it seemed like something might happen between them. But Song Lang knew that beyond physical attraction, they shared deeper emotional connections, both having endured similar pains and having the potential to become true friends.

“Is being a cop fun?” Kavi asked, her cheeks flushed with alcohol.

“Being a cop is my greatest passion.”

“I’m so jealous. I’ve pinned all my hopes on a man who won’t come back.”

“Don’t be sad. Drinking should be joyful. Every time we drink, we end up crying… It’s time to start a new life, for both of us. Wang Xi left you a lot of money, didn’t he?”

Kavi placed a bank card on the table. “I checked on the way back. Over six hundred thousand. Should I buy a house or a car? Maybe start a small business.” The thought of spending freely made her happy.

Song Lang examined the card. “First, pay off your debts, then learn a skill.”

“What? Schooling? I hate studying.”

“If you don’t work for the life you want, you’ll end up dealing with the life you don’t want. While you’re young, learn something.”

Kavi pouted. “What about you? You can’t be a cop anymore, right? I think I understand what happened to your face. Did you have plastic surgery? When we meet again, will I recognize you?”

Song Lang raised his glass. This was the last bit of wine. “I’ll greet you. Whether you recognize me is your problem.”