Chapter 289: Fishing Line Suicide (2/2)

“You speak as if you’ve tried it!” laughed Xiaotao.

I explained that in the 18th century, a French doctor conducted a shocking experiment where he stood beside the guillotine, observing the process every day. As soon as a prisoner was beheaded, he would rush over and pick the head up by the hair, slapping it a few times to see if the prisoner was still conscious after decapitation. His experiment revealed that the prisoners showed no anger or frustration despite turning red and swollen from being slapped, indicating that the prisoners lost consciousness soon after being beheaded.

”Sun Tiger will be back soon,” remarked Xiaotao.

”His trip has taken long enough,” I chuckled. “Shall we throw him a welcoming reception?”

”Perfect! You can meet up with Bingxin as well. After all, it’s been more than half a month since you last saw her!”

Right then, we were interrupted by a noisy din. As it turned out, a group of men was arrested in the wee hours of the morning in a huge massage parlor crackdown. Xiaotao's department wasn’t in charge of pornography and prostitution crimes, but they were placed in the same building and bumped into each other.

With a quiver of delightful Schadenfreude, I enjoyed seeing these men get caught and shamefully put on their clothes under the watchful eye of police officers. Of course, these men showed a mix of different reactions upon being arrested–some arrogant, some regretful, while others were unfazed. I joked with Xiaotao, wondering out loud when I would get the chance to have a go at these guys.

One of the men squatting on the ground, characterized by his pockmarked face suddenly looked up and smiled, ”Officer, you’ve got the wrong guy. I went in to look for someone.”

”Look for someone to undress you, eh?” retorted an officer.

”It’s not like they’ll let you into the massage parlor if you’re dressed,” argued Pockmark. “How would I know it was that sort of massage parlor? I swear I’m here on business.”

”Enough of your excuses!” shouted the officer. “Just pay the fine later and get your boss or family member to pick you up!”

”Have we met this pockmarked guy somewhere?” I asked.

Xiaotao seemed to recognize him as well, but the exact details of where we had come across the man eluded her. ”He looks so vulgar. Is he someone we previously arrested?” she scratched her head.

As soon as he caught sight of us, Pockmark waved enthusiastically. ”Hey, bro! What a coincidence!” he exclaimed. “We meet again!”

At the sound of his thick Wuhan accent, I frowned, ”Who are you? I’m not your bro.”

”Ah, how easily the noble forget!” sighed Pockmark. “I’m the antique dealer you met last time. I’m telling you, this is a complete misunderstanding! Can you clear things up with this officer here?”

”Song Yang,” interrupted Xiaotao. “There’s a newly opened hot pot restaurant nearby. I heard the food’s really good!”

”Let's go then! I'm starving.”

As we headed out the station, Pockmark shouted from behind, ”Bro, come on! Don't be like this! Don’t you think meeting here is fate?!”

At this point, I couldn’t be bothered to entertain him. But just as we were about to walk out the door, he yelled, ”Miss Officer, misfortune and death awaits you!”

His words hit me like a bat to the head. Had he claimed I was the recipient of a great calamity, I wouldn’t bat an eye but Xiaotao’s job constantly placed her in harm’s way. Her safety was a matter of great concern and perturbation.

Despite the fact that I was well aware most people were cheated by these fortune tellers due to their own insecurities and fears, I couldn’t resist turning back. ”What do you mean by that?” I coldly demanded. “Test my patience and I’ll kill you.”

”If you let me go, I'll tell you,” Pockmark sneered.

It was difficult to read his microexpressions for his pockmarks and laugh lines made it impossible to discern if he was telling the truth or lying. That alone suggested he was an experienced man who had long been mixed up with society.

“Song Yang, why listen to his nonsense?” Xiaotao walked over and tugged my sleeve. “Can you believe a word this charlatan says?”