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墨書 Inktalez
Listening to his tone, I could almost conclude that The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall held some prejudice against us. This seemed to be a recurring theme, at least in my experience. Some extreme individuals, having faced misfortune, did not blame those responsible for their plight but instead directed their anger towards the police. In this regard, we truly felt powerless.
Our duty is to protect the people, yet sometimes we find ourselves unable to reach them. Moreover, there are indeed some bad apples within our ranks that tarnish the public's perception of us. However, the vast majority of police officers genuinely aspire to be good at their jobs when they take their oaths before the national flag.
"Perhaps you have some preconceived notions about us, but we can sit down and talk it out," I said gently, trying to lower my stance. "You can share what you've been through and any grievances you have with us. I will listen. What do you think?"
Yet The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall still appeared agitated, trembling all over and gritting his teeth. At that moment, I realized that his shaking was not out of fear or resentment but rather pure rage—an anger that had reached its peak. I couldn't understand why this giant was so furious.
"Police!" he sneered. "Ah, what a sacred profession! You have no idea how much I wanted to be a police officer when I was in elementary school. But then I realized you are nothing but scum disguised as Human Skin Maps. I wish I could kill every last one of you!"
What kind of hatred could lead this Six Feet Three Inches tall man to despise us so deeply? Did something happen to him in his childhood that made him resent the police? It seemed there was a convoluted story behind his feelings.
Thinking along these lines, I spoke up: "Alright, no matter what your views on us are, only by expressing them can we understand why you feel this way and perhaps come to comprehend your situation. Otherwise, what good will it do for you to resist like this?"
"I've already said it—working under Guo Guoqing is not worth it. Guo Guoqing is using you; do you understand?" I continued slowly. "He's just a kid under sixteen who sometimes can't tell right from wrong. But how old are you? Why would you listen to a child? If you continue down this path, all that awaits you is death. Don't you realize that?"
Upon hearing my words, The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall burst into laughter as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. He looked at me with a gaze full of disbelief and said, "Really? I'm so scared! Before I turned ten, my mother told me that good deeds are rewarded and evil deeds punished, urging me to be a good person. I listened, but what happened afterward? Does this world really reward goodness and punish evil? Huh?"
By the end of his statement, he nearly shouted as if questioning me directly. Meeting his intense gaze, I replied, "Good deeds are rewarded and evil deeds punished—not immediately; the time just hasn't come yet. That’s the complete saying: as long as one commits evil or breaks the law, can they truly escape forever?"
"Is that so?" he laughed again. "Then why haven't I encountered such things in my life? Good people get bullied while those who deserve punishment continue to thrive in this world. I've seen enough of it already, and all you do is spout irrelevant nonsense while arresting innocent people and killing those who shouldn't be harmed!"
Arresting innocent people and killing those who shouldn't be harmed? This was a crucial point and likely the root of his grievances; however, it was difficult to analyze based solely on that statement. The giant continued: "I’m not afraid of death; I'm not afraid of prison either. But before I die, I want to take you down with me!"
As he spoke, he raised his gun's muzzle, clearly about to pull the trigger. In that critical moment, I shouted urgently, "Stop!"
In an instant, something appeared in my hand—a pendant tied with a red string; one end tightly gripped in my hand while the other dangled with a Pendant containing a photograph inside it. Upon seeing this Pendant, The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall instinctively reached for his neck and simultaneously released the trigger.
I let out a sigh of relief, cold sweat beginning to trickle down my back. Although it seemed like nothing had happened, in that brief moment, I felt as if I had circled around the Ghost Gate, with one foot nearly stepping into the realm of death. It appeared that this Pendant held extraordinary significance for the man before me, enough to calm someone who was on the verge of pulling the trigger.
The Pendant swung back and forth in my hand as I spoke, "I know you came back for this. It must be very important to you. Otherwise, you wouldn't risk so much to retrieve it. Guo Guoqing probably doesn't know about this yet, does he?"
The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall frowned and said in a low voice, "Give it back to me."
I held the Pendant tightly and continued, "I've seen inside; there's a photograph of a girl who looks about fifteen or sixteen. Considering your age is around twenty-six or twenty-seven, this photo must be six or seven years old. So, this girl is likely your sister, right?"
"Where is she now? Do you think she would be happy with what you're doing?" I gently coaxed. "Do you think she would be proud of her brother being a murderer? Do you believe this is what she deserves? Put down the gun. No matter what you've been through or why you harbor such hatred towards us, don't you care about her?"
At this point, the man suddenly shouted, "Shut up! What right do you have to use my sister against me?"
His voice was so loud it startled me. At the same time, I noticed tears welling up in his eyes, confirming my earlier suspicions. The girl in that photograph had likely passed away; otherwise, he wouldn't be holding onto such an old picture. I couldn't help but wonder how she had died and whether it had anything to do with his animosity towards the police.
"I'm speaking the truth!" Seeing his reaction, I decided to press on; this might be our only hope. "Why shouldn't I say it? You dare to do something like this, and I'm not allowed to speak? Is there any sister in the world who hopes her brother is a murderer? Regardless of what you've experienced, how can you pass on such emotions to your sister? Don't you want her to live in a world filled with love instead of hatred? Guo Guoqing has killed four innocent women just like your sister; do you understand that?"
"Enough!" The man shouted again, cutting me off. Then he said in a low voice, "Give me that Pendant!"
Seeing him on the brink of collapse, I sighed and tossed the Pendant over to him. He caught it with one hand and gently pressed it open. He brought the opened Pendant close to his lips as if kissing the person in the photograph, and then tears began to fall like raindrops.
Meanwhile, he kept his eyes wide open and his gun trained on us without giving us a chance to rush him and subdue him.
The scene was somewhat absurd, yet no one could laugh. Who could imagine a twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old man standing at six feet three inches tall kissing a photograph while crying like a child? But could we find humor in it? No one could laugh at such a sight; despite the stark contrast between his tears and his imposing figure.
The man mumbled something under his breath, but even from my close distance, I couldn't catch what he said because he wasn't speaking to me; he was addressing his sister. Then he clenched the Pendant tightly in his palm, furrowing his brow as a fierce look filled his eyes.
I silently cursed myself for not being more cautious and quickly leaped sideways just as I heard a gunshot—The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall had fired! Before I even hit the ground, another shot rang out. It was only then that I crashed onto the ground.
I rolled into the hallway leading from the living room to the bedroom, glancing back at the unfolding situation. To my shock, I saw a bloody hole in the hand of the large man, right where he was gripping his gun. The weapon flew out of his grasp, and in that urgent moment, I couldn't tell if it was Dezi or Yuzelin who had fired. The gun clattered to the ground, and we immediately rushed toward where the man stood; this was our best chance to capture him alive.
But at that moment, the man fell backward, rolling and grabbing the handgun with his other hand. He quickly turned to aim in our direction as we ran toward him. My heart raced; I never expected him to retrieve his weapon in such a manner.
“Dodge!” I shouted.
We all knew that bullets didn't discriminate, and we dared not use our bodies as shields. The three of us quickly veered aside. Then, we heard a gunshot, unsure if it hit anyone. As I hit the ground, I immediately rolled to my side and sprang back up, intending to rush toward the man again, only to find a pool of blood on the floor.
At that moment, I couldn't tell whose blood it was, but there was no time to ponder; if he fired again, the consequences would be dire. But when I focused closely, I realized that the blood was flowing from the man's head, specifically from his right temple. None of us were positioned to shoot at that spot.
In other words, he had committed suicide.
At this point, Yuzelin had yet to process what had happened and charged straight toward the man. With a swift kick, she sent the gun flying from his hand, finally noticing his condition. Despite having shot himself in the head, it seemed he wasn't dead yet; his eyes were wide open as if he were taking one last look at the photo on the Pendant. The entire Pendant was already stained red with his blood.
The beautiful girl in the photo wore a white dress that had now turned crimson.
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