112 Caught in a Gunfigh (2/2)
”Who?”
”The reporter who wrote the article that pushed Luo's Workshop into the abyss.”
Xiao Luo leaned back in his seat with his eyes staring straight ahead. ”The footage from our surveillance camera shows that the old man did indeed look to be in poor physical condition when he entered the shop. And the hospital files clearly show he had been diagnosed with chronic rheumatic heart disease. The evidence points to a heart attack as the cause of death rather than anything to do with eating bread.
”The medical practitioner who performed the autopsy has left the country to study abroad. The old man's family insists that the bread from Luo's Workshop caused his death and claimed 470 grand in compensation. All these facts add up to one thing: conspiracy.”
”Did Taste Buds orchestrate this?” Zhang Dashan asked.
Xiao Luo rolled his eyes at him. ”Could there be another company behind it?”
”F*ck him! That old son of a b*tch, Fang Changlei, has no business ethics at all. When I have time, I'm going to find out where he parks his car.”
”What are you thinking of doing to his car?”
”What else? I'm going to piss all over the front,” Zhang Dashan declared loudly.
Xiao Luo did not deign to give him a reply.
”Bang!”
As the car approached a crossroads, there was a burst of fierce but concentrated gunfire from somewhere ahead.
”Bang, bang!”
Another two gunshots sounded. Pedestrians and drivers in the area became flustered and tried to flee. Lest they get shot by accident, they ignored all the traffic lights in the process. This resulted in a series of serious traffic accidents, and the shrill sound of police sirens rang out.
”F*ck, this is some luck!”
Zhang Dashan shuddered and slammed down on the brakes, hard. He had only seen gunfights in the movies, and now that he was in the midst of one, there was no way he could maintain his composure.
Xiao Luo's eyes narrowed. His gaze grew more focused, and he stared straight ahead like a hawk.
A man dressed in black rode out from a side street on a motorcycle. His head was covered by a helmet, and his hand grasped a short firearm. He rode valiantly, firing as he rode, while two police cars gave chase close on his tail.
An older policeman, who was extremely bold, stuck half of his body out of the window to take aim at the man.
”Bang, bang, bang!”
The gunshots seemed never-ending as bullets whizzed through the air at high speeds. The bullets tore open holes in the police vehicles, and two shots narrowly missed the man in black. Finally, with a loud impact sound, a third shot buried itself deep inside the back of the man's shoulder.
The man in black was knocked off his balance by the shot and tumbled off his motorcycle. The motorcycle skidded more than ten yards away before coming to a stop under the wheels of a truck.
The man immediately picked himself up off the ground, tore off his helmet, and revealed his bloodstained face. He looked like a foreigner.
”Don't move. Get down with your hands behind your head!”
Taking advantage of this moment of opportunity, three policemen rushed forward nimbly with their guns up. They pushed through the crowd to try to arrest the man in black.
The man in black grinned ferociously. He flexed all his muscles, which expanded explosively. Leaning forward readily, his coat rolled off his body. As if a black curtain had been draped before them, his coat blocked the three policemen's' view.
At the same time, the man in black slid backward, and his strong, sturdy body lithely slipped out of the black trench coat in one clean motion. He took two steps back, then pushed forward with his right leg, on which his body's center of gravity rested. He probably weighed over two-hundred pounds yet moved with the dexterity of a cheetah chasing its prey. The instant the black trench coat obscured the policemen's sight, he charged at them recklessly.
”Bam, bam!”
Two of the policemen were hurled backward, colliding squarely with the multi-purpose vehicles parked at the roadside. Rebounding from the impact, they collapsed unconscious on the ground.