Chapter Thirty: The Gun

Before Lu Youwei could fire, Shen Ye had already lunged forward.

The distance between Shen Ye and Lu Youwei was around three meters to begin with.

That wasn’t far at all.

When Lu Youwei revealed his gun, Shen Ye had already calculated: three meters separated them, with only a high-end wooden stool in between. Any ordinary person would think to use the stool as cover. But back in the days when Shen Ye frequented online forums, he’d read an educational post.

It explained that in TV dramas—especially those propagandistic war dramas—it was reckless to hide behind a wooden table for cover from gunfire.

After all, almost any gun can easily punch through that thin layer of wood.

The result of such a choice? Riddled with bullets.

So Shen Ye’s decision was to rely on his body’s threefold resilience compared to a normal person and charge straight through that three-meter gap. At worst, he’d take two or three hits—his formidable physique could handle it.

Before Lu Youwei could fire the second shot, Shen Ye was already upon him.

Enduring the searing pain from the first two bullets, Shen Ye seized Lu Youwei’s right hand, wrenching the pistol aside. The gun fired with a sharp crack, the bullet burying itself in the ceiling.

Then, Shen Ye’s right hand twisted with explosive force, causing Lu Youwei to drop the pistol in agony.

He snatched the weapon, reversed it, and struck Lu Youwei’s temple with all his might.

A person’s temple is incredibly vulnerable.

A direct blow from metal can easily be fatal.

Lu Youwei collapsed in a dead faint, his fate uncertain.

Shen Ye, worried that evil would survive, clamped his hand around Lu Youwei’s throat and squeezed.

A man’s throat might have some hardness—

But in the end, it’s only flesh and blood.

With the strength four times that of an average man, there was a sickening crack, and Lu Youwei’s windpipe broke under Shen Ye’s grip, blood spurting from the wound.

Only then did Shen Ye release his hold.

This time, there were few fingerprints left. After all, with experience, he always wore a thin pair of gloves that didn’t hinder his sense of touch before making a move.

Shen Ye let out a cold laugh and searched Lu Youwei’s body, finding a silver-gray iPhone. It was fingerprint locked.

He pressed each of Lu Youwei’s right-hand fingers against the sensor, discovering it was the index finger that unlocked the phone.

Calmly, Shen Ye picked up the phone and dialed 110.

After a moment, the call connected.

“Hello, this is the Yangcheng County Public Security Bureau’s 110 Emergency Service. You’re speaking with Operator 17. How can I assist you?” came a sweet female voice.

“Operator 17, what a coincidence. We must be fated,” Shen Ye chuckled.

On the other end, Lin Wei—Operator 17—was slightly baffled. She was an attractive young woman with no shortage of admirers. Not long ago, some bored soul had learned she was an emergency operator and used calls to 110 as an excuse to flirt, leaving Lin Wei both amused and exasperated. “Are you Zhang Zeguang? 110 is for emergencies. If you use this number to chase girls instead, that’s illegal. You could be detained for a while.”

“Zhang Zeguang? Who’s that?” Shen Ye laughed softly. “It seems, Officer 17, that you’re quite the beauty. Some people will use any excuse—even 110—to pursue you. If I ever get the chance, I’d love to see Miss Mao’s photo. But I’m actually calling to report a crime.”

“To report a crime? Alright, go ahead. I’m listening,” Lin Wei said, relieved to realize this wasn’t the crazy Zhang Zeguang.

“As a police officer, you must have heard of the Four Terrors of our county: South Ma, North Lu, East Xiong, and West Lang,” Shen Ye remarked casually, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

“What do you mean by that?” Lin Wei asked, a bit on edge.

“Nothing much. You’re overthinking it, beautiful officer. It’s just that the last time I took care of South Ma’s Ma Guosheng, you happened to answer the call. And now, after finishing off North Lu’s Lu Youwei, it’s you again. Seems like fate, don’t you think, Operator 17?” Shen Ye chuckled.

Lin Wei was momentarily stunned. “Did you say you killed Lu Youwei?”

“Yes, and a few more with heavy crimes to their names. You police eliminate evil in the daylight; I do the same in the shadows. In a way, we’re comrades. Tell me, shouldn’t I be awarded a police banner one of these days?” Shen Ye laughed softly.

Lin Wei felt awkward. Truth be told, this so-called Chopstick Fiend—whose name was on record—really was ridding the world of darkness. But by law, he was still a criminal.

“Enough joking. By the way, the address is Jin Hao Du Residential Complex. It’s right in the city center, so I won’t stick around for ten minutes waiting to be caught like last time. I’ll be gone when I finish this cigarette. Goodbye—let’s hope next time I purge evil, it’s not you who answers,” Shen Ye said lightly, then hung up.

He had intended to finish his cigarette before leaving, but the agony in his chest was overwhelming.

He’d been shot twice and was seriously wounded.

So, after hastily bandaging himself to stop the bleeding, he went downstairs at once.

In a corner of the Jin Hao Du complex, he hooked his iron grapple onto the courtyard wall, vaulted over with ease, slipped into a surveillance blind spot, and with a final burst of speed, vanished into the night.

...

After realizing the call had ended, Lin Wei sat in a daze for a moment.

Then she leapt to her feet.

She rushed straight to the criminal police office.

“Where’s Captain Meng? Brother Su?” Lin Wei asked the cheerful young man across from her.

“Captain Meng just went home. We closed a case earlier and were exhausted—everyone wanted to rest. I’m on duty, just my luck. What’s up, Miss Mao? Feeling sorry for me and want to bring me takeout?” The young man, surnamed Su, was a member of the criminal investigation team—Su Qiu, whom Captain Meng Zhitang always called ‘Little Su.’

“I just took a call. The caller claimed to be the one who killed Ma Guosheng. This time, he’s taken care of Lu Youwei, one of the Four Terrors,” Lin Wei said anxiously.

Su Qiu froze for a moment, then sprang to his feet. “South Ma, North Lu, East Xiong, West Lang—the four notorious figures of our county. South Ma’s Ma Guosheng fell to the Chopstick Fiend, and now North Lu’s Lu Youwei has as well. This Chopstick Fiend really is something else. Incredible—just incredible. But this is serious. I’ll call Captain Meng right away.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed Meng Zhitang’s number.

Another major incident had just occurred!