Chapter 9

The rain pattered down, the wind howled, and sand and stones flew. The big trees by the roadside swayed wildly in the wind, and the sign of a small supermarket was blown off, landing with a loud thud. Households hurried to close their doors and windows and gather their clothes, and the usually bustling street quickly became desolate.

Liu Handong and Xiaofan rushed to No. 108 courtyard, pushed open the iron gate, and entered. Inside the courtyard, the mahjong table had been moved to the first-floor room, and the game continued uninterrupted. On the second floor, Zhang Dajie had gone to pick up her child, and the door was locked. Zhu Xiaoqiang was not playing DOTA, and no one was in the room. On the third floor, Xiaoli and Xiaohong had not yet finished work, and the fourth floor was completely empty.

The two of them climbed the stairs, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Soon after, the iron gate was pushed open again, and Ma Guoqing, limping, walked in. His stomach began to ache severely, and large beads of sweat dripped down. It was his strong will that enabled the old policeman to climb the stairs step by step.

It was already the beginning of autumn, but the heavy rain continued to rage, making a dull sound as it hit the roof of the Highlander. Gu Changjun nodded to the four men in the car but said nothing.

The four burly men in the Highlander opened the doors and stepped out, treading through the accumulated water and heading towards No. 108. Behind them, the Accord's doors opened, and another four burly men got out, slamming the doors and carrying long fishing bags in their hands.

Gu Changjun brought eight men, all of whom were well-known tough guys on the streets, with experience in killing and bloodshed, and multiple prison terms. They were efficient and left no traces, truly top-notch professionals.

What was originally a simple matter had escalated, and the higher-ups had given a strict order: if it wasn't completed today, Gu Changjun would face dire consequences.

He lit a cigarette and slightly lowered the car window, and rain immediately poured in. This rain came just in time, washing away all traces. Looking at the security cameras on the utility poles, Gu Changjun sneered; these things were just for show, often malfunctioning, and even less reliable in bad weather.

On the fourth floor, Liu Handong took off his drenched shirt and heard a calm voice from behind: "Police! Raise your hands, turn around slowly, and don't move."

Liu Handong slowly turned around and saw a middle-aged man with gray temples, holding a gun at his waist, the standard police stance from the 1980s, which effectively prevented the opponent from grabbing the gun and provided stability when shooting.

"Liu Handong?" the middle-aged man asked.

Liu Handong nodded.

The man threw a pair of handcuffs at him and coldly said, "Put them on yourself, no tricks."

Liu Handong picked up the handcuffs and put them on his wrists.

"Make sure they're tight," the old policeman commanded sternly.

Liu Handong tightened the handcuffs another two notches.

Xiaofan came in from the balcony to collect clothes and was stunned by the scene.

"Don't be afraid, I'm a police officer," the old policeman said more kindly, then ordered Liu Handong, "Walk in front, go downstairs."

The rain was heavy, pouring down, making it difficult to escort the criminal to the police station. Ma Guoqing only wanted to take him downstairs and have the landlord call the police.

Liu Handong walked slowly in front, followed by Xiaofan, and lastly, Ma Guoqing with his gun.

When they reached the second floor, a group of people came up from below. The narrow staircase could only accommodate one person at a time. The leader was a sinister-looking man in a tracksuit, holding a black pistol.

Both sides were taken aback. In a flash, Liu Handong leaped up, kicking the man below. The sinister man was caught off guard, fell backward, and his gun fired, coinciding with a thunderclap that masked the sound. The bullet hit the concrete ceiling, ricocheted, and struck the gunman's head, causing blood to spurt, and he fell and did not get up.

With the leaders on both sides down, it was followed by Xiaofan and another gunman from below. The man raised his gun, and Xiaofan froze.

Ma Guoqing, quick on the draw, pushed Xiaofan aside and fired. Both sides opened fire simultaneously. At close range, it was almost impossible to miss. Ma Guoqing, standing higher, hit the man in the head with a bullet from his Type 54 pistol, but the man's bullet also hit his stomach, and his police shirt, worn for over a decade, was instantly soaked in blood.

Next was the third gunman, holding a sawed-off shotgun. The black barrel was aimed at Ma Guoqing. At the critical moment, Liu Handong, lying on the stairs, picked up a gun and fired all six bullets in the magazine at the gunman, splattering blood everywhere. The killers, hearing the dense gunfire, immediately retreated.

Liu Handong picked up the shotgun. Suddenly, Ma Guoqing shouted, "Drop the gun!"

The Type 54 pistol was aimed at Liu Handong, and blood dripped from Ma Guoqing's hand, which was from his wound.

Liu Handong suddenly aimed at Ma Guoqing. The two were inches apart, the gun barrels pointing at each other, fingers on the triggers, ready to fire at any moment.

The killers began to move again, inching towards the staircase.

Inside the first-floor room, several mahjong-playing aunts cowered on the ground, using chairs to block the door. The landlady frantically dialed 110, but the phone line was cut by the wind, and there was no sound in the receiver.

"Drop the gun!" Ma Guoqing and Liu Handong shouted at each other, neither willing to be the first to drop their weapon.

A confrontation was imminent.

"Don't! My brother is a good person!" Xiaofan suddenly spoke, rushing to shield Liu Handong.

At that moment, a killer's head appeared downstairs. Liu Handong and Ma Guoqing simultaneously turned their guns, firing bullets that shattered bricks and deafened their ears.

On Iron Slag Street, Wang Xing braked to a stop. From the thunder, he heard familiar gunshots, including Type 54, shotguns, and even automatic rifles. A fierce gun battle was happening nearby!

He quickly got out of the car, checked his body, found no weapon, and picked up a heavy brick.

Liu Handong remained calm; this was not his first real gunfight. Years ago, on the high plateau, he and his comrades had faced vicious separatist armed groups and passed the test of blood and fire.

The killers below had powerful firepower, using military weapons. The dense bullets blocked the staircase, and the enemy was about to break in. Liu Handong shouted for cover, and Ma Guoqing fired several shots. Liu Handong, holding the shotgun with one hand, quickly went upstairs and leaped down from the second floor, firing in mid-air. The shotgun's spread killed a man with an automatic rifle.

Liu Handong, still handcuffed, awkwardly raised the gun to shoot. Ma Guoqing, startled, thought Liu Handong was aiming at him and was about to move when a killer grabbed him from behind, the gun barrel pressed against his head.

"Drop the gun!" the killer threatened.

Without hesitation, Liu Handong pulled the trigger, and a bullet spun out, hitting the killer in the forehead.

The 7.62mm rifle bullet's kinetic energy blew off the killer's skull, and he flew backward, leaving a bloody mess on the wall.

Ma Guoqing, drenched in cold sweat, fumbled in his pocket for the handcuff key and threw it down.

Liu Handong picked up the key and quickly opened the handcuffs. He skillfully held the Myanmar-made Type 81 rifle, hiding behind the cement wall, with perfect tactical movements.

Ma Guoqing, with his gun, guarded the upper area, preventing the killers from attacking from the rooftop.

Eight killers, five of whom were instantly killed, leaving only three, who were now powerless to attack. They hid behind utility poles and cars, aiming their guns at the courtyard gate, unaware that Wang Xing was approaching from behind with a brick.

One brick down, the killer hiding behind the car was flattened and fell limply. Wang Xing took the Type 54 from the killer, checked the chamber, and aimed at the killer behind the utility pole.

The killer was just pulling out a grenade when Wang Xing shot him in the head. The police officer's marksmanship was excellent, and two consecutive shots were fatal.

Only one killer remained, now surrounded, and he fired two shots in panic, turned, and ran. He didn't get far before being hit in the leg and falling into the mud.

The empty street, devoid of the Highlander, now had only an empty black Accord.

Wang Xing, hiding behind a car, shouted, "People in the courtyard, state your identities," and then called the criminal investigation team.

On the stairs, Ma Guoqing was barely alive. Xiaofan, following Liu Handong's instructions, helped the police officer press his wound. Suddenly, Ma Guoqing's phone rang.

Liu Handong answered it.

"Dad, why aren't you back for dinner? You didn't even say you were working overtime. Mom and I have been waiting for you," a girl's voice said.

"Your dad has been shot, on Iron Slag Street," Liu Handong said. Outside, someone shouted for the people inside to state their identities, indicating that police reinforcements had arrived.

"There's a police officer injured, call an ambulance," Liu Handong shouted.

The phone call was still connected when Ma Guoqing's daughter, Ma Ling, dropped the receiver. In the kitchen, her mother, who was warming up the food, asked, "Ling, is your dad coming back for dinner? If not, let's eat."

Ma Ling, tears streaming down her face, sobbed.

An hour later, on Iron Slag Street, sirens wailed, and dozens of police cars, including the criminal investigation team, special police, armed police, and traffic police, as well as forensic experts and ambulances, blocked the street. Crowds stood outside the police tape, watching as black plastic bags containing bodies were loaded into ambulances.

The rain continued, washing away the blood, which flowed into the sewers. Investigators, wearing gloves, collected bullet casings. This was the largest gun-related case in Jinnan City since the founding of the People's Republic of China, with six deaths and one person still unconscious from a brick to the head.

The case involved a large number of firearms, with over a hundred rounds fired, including pistols, rifles, shotguns, and even a grenade. The leaders in the command vehicle were overwhelmed.

The first to report the incident was private detective Wang Xing, who called the criminal investigation team, saying there was a gun battle and an injured police officer, needing immediate support and an ambulance. However, when the police arrived, they found no injured colleagues and no sign of Wang Xing. Further calls went unanswered.

There were no eyewitnesses to the case, and even the residents of No. 108 courtyard had not seen the incident. When the gunshots started, they cowered on the ground and saw nothing.

"Find them, even if it means digging up the ground," the deputy director of the city bureau, Deputy Director Hao, ordered. He then instructed his subordinates, "Connect me to the provincial department; I need to report to Director Song."

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Deputy Director Hao took it, waving his hand to silence the command vehicle.

"Mayor Jin, I was just about to report to you..." Deputy Director Hao waved away the others.