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墨書 Inktalez
On the evening of August twentieth, the air was heavy with the scent of impending rain.
Old Shao held Mary’s hand as they reminisced. In that moment, Old Shao was not a formidable detective, and Mary was not an exceptional hacker; they were simply two elderly individuals past their fifties. However, despite being fifty years old, Mary's personality had not changed at all, which made Old Shao reflect on how some things truly remain untouched by time.
Mary playfully remarked, “Old Shao, now that you’re sixty, it’s time to stop this. You should come join us soon; my husband is getting restless at home and has been wanting to drink with you for ages.”
Old Shao sighed repeatedly and replied, “I had planned to visit you a month ago, but unfortunately, there were too many things keeping me from leaving. Once this matter is settled, I will definitely come to see you.”
Mary chuckled, “You were saying the same thing ten years ago when you had a mission. After all that waiting for retirement, here you are again with unexpected business.”
Old Shao smiled wryly, “It seems I’m destined for a life of toil.”
A few hours after Mary boarded her flight, the clouds grew heavy and finally could no longer hold back the rain.
In the car, Captain Li asked, “Old Shao, what should we do next?”
Old Shao yawned and replied slowly, “Let’s stay at the City Bureau tonight. Tomorrow, take me to the airport.”
At that moment, Old Shao's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and saw a string of random numbers—clearly a scam call. Without a second thought, he hung up. But immediately after hanging up, that same string of numbers called again, this time slightly different.
Realizing this was no coincidence, Old Shao understood that this mysterious caller must be trying to reach him specifically.
His phone number was confidential; very few people knew it. Guan Deng was one of the rare skilled hackers who might have access to it—could this caller also be a hacker?
After pondering for a moment, Old Shao answered the call: “Who is this?”
A synthetic electronic voice responded from the other end: “Let’s play a game.”
“Game?”
Upon hearing those two words, Old Shao felt a string in his mind tighten immediately. Twenty years ago, he had often heard these words from the lips of a dangerous person, and this phrase was almost synonymous with that individual. Now, twenty years later, he heard it again. Could it be that another Wu Zui was about to emerge?
"What do you want?" Old Shao asked directly.
However, there was no response from the other side; the call had been disconnected.
Old Shao quickly sent the two phone numbers to Guan Deng, hoping that this skilled hacker could uncover something from them. Unfortunately, it was clear that just these two numbers wouldn't reveal the identity of the person behind them. Guan Deng was honest enough to text Old Shao back with that information.
Old Shao glanced at Captain Li and, feeling frustrated, redialed the number only to find it was a disconnected line.
It seemed like something was about to happen again.
With this thought in mind, Old Shao called each member of the task force, instructing them to be ready at any moment.
Meanwhile, an elderly man with graying hair sat in a wheelchair and answered his phone. His hands were marked with age spots and trembled slightly.
"It has begun," said the voice on the other end of the line.
The old man did not respond; he slowly placed the phone down. His once-clear eyes now stared blankly out at the upright poplar trees outside, silent and contemplative.
The game had begun.
On August 21st at noon, under a clear sky and blazing sun, the asphalt road was heated to such an extent that one could almost grill meat on it if oil were poured over. Yet, people continued to come and go on the street, their faces glistening as if a single step would cause a gallon of sweat to pour down.
Four or five elderly men sat gathered under a tree, watching the bustling street filled with cars and bicycles. The road was not very wide; vehicles and pedestrians intermingled, and shouts could be heard from time to time—pedestrians cursing drivers or drivers retaliating against pedestrians—creating quite a lively scene.
One elderly man wearing a red vest and black shorts stood up. He gently placed his straw hat on the ground and pressed his fan down on top of it. A plastic cup hung from his wrist; he unscrewed the lid and took a few sips of tea before setting it aside. Finally, he removed his sunglasses that had been resting on his nose.
He confidently ran his fingers through the few strands of hair left on his head. The old men around him noticed, and Old Wang was clearly preparing for action.
Sitting nearby, Ding Derun shook his head, lightly waving the fan in his hand. "Old Wang, I can tell you won't succeed," he said slowly.
Old Wang tossed his head back, sunlight glinting off the top of it, shining brightly.
"I refuse to believe I can't do it," Old Wang declared.
"Let's bet fifty bucks," Old Ding replied.
Thus, the two made a wager.
Old Wang snorted twice and walked to the edge of the street, looking around as if searching for someone. The street was crowded with people, sweltering with heat, but Old Wang remained unfazed. After waiting for a few minutes, he finally sprang into action.
Like a leopard, Old Wang suddenly dashed forward, spotting a slowly moving red BMW not far away. He felt a surge of excitement; this red BMW was the perfect target. Such cars were either driven by wealthy women or were rentals, and those kinds of people typically disliked trouble.
"This is it," Old Wang thought as he positioned himself four meters away from the BMW and then dramatically fell to the ground with a loud "Ah!"
To make it seem genuine, Old Wang put considerable effort into his scream, a sound he had perfected after taking tenor lessons. Accompanying this cry of agony, he sprawled on the ground. At that moment, the BMW hurriedly slammed on its brakes, coming to a steady stop right in front of him.
Passersby were drawn to the sound of his painful scream, and they all turned to see an old man lying in front of the red BMW.
"Someone's been hit!" shouted an onlooker.
"Another female driver!" someone else chimed in.
Old Wang's performance was nothing short of perfect; perhaps even Oscar owed him a golden statue. However, such a flawless act didn't last long. Just as Ding Derun had predicted earlier, he was about to fail again. After only a few seconds of wailing in pain, Old Wang sprang up from the ground like a fish leaping out of water.
Standing up, Old Wang seemed eager to prove he wasn't injured at all. He began jumping around excitedly by the side of the street like an endlessly energetic child.
"That old man is in great shape!" someone couldn't help but exclaim.
"The old man has good character; he doesn't cheat people!" another praised.
The BMW driver stepped on the gas and left, not forgetting to curse the old man's ancestors.
Old Wang walked back with a helpless expression.
Several elderly men asked, "What happened? That acting was pretty good; why did he get up?"
Old Wang rubbed his backside and said, "Damn it, that was scorching hot."
The ground was extremely hot, like a furnace; lying on the ground for just a few seconds made it unbearable. With this realization, everyone burst into laughter. Only Old Ding, Ding Derun, among them laughed silently, having anticipated this outcome.
Old Ding adjusted his sunglasses, took a sip of tea, and then extended his hand.
Old Wang didn't back down and placed fifty yuan in Old Ding's hand.
One of the old men inquired about Old Ding.
Old Ding laughed heartily and said, "In every profession, there are masters. No matter what you do, you must grasp the rules of that field and find its core. Honestly, I'm not that impressive; I just spend the time everyone else uses to drink coffee on scamming."
With that, Old Ding stood up decisively and turned to leave, leaving behind his admirers with a confident silhouette.
Ding Derun was sixty-three years old this year. His hair had completely fallen out, and his head resembled a large light bulb, shining brightly and blinding people's eyes. Walking down the street, Ding Derun often sighed; at his age, having his career flourish again could be considered self-sufficient for a retired man.
Ding Derun worked at a private auto repair shop. After retirement, he had no pension and lived tightly with his family. His son worked in a big city but only earned six thousand yuan a month, which barely covered rent in a first-tier city. They had to live frugally each month.
One day, Ding Derun saw a news report on television about a luxury car hitting an elderly person and the compensation amounting to millions.
This was a rather obscure piece of rolling news, likely to be overlooked by most people. However, the astute Ding Derun discovered an opportunity within this news. Throughout his life, he struggled to earn even ten million, but if he were hit by a luxury car, he could instantly receive a compensation of millions.
Even if medical expenses were high, they would only amount to a million, leaving him with nine million to buy several houses back in his hometown. At that point, he could bring his son back home; living off the rental income would suffice, and he wouldn't need to toil outside anymore.
From that moment on, Ding Derun resolutely embarked on a path of scamming.
Like any other profession, the beginning was tough. At first, Ding Derun watched the vehicles passing by, unsure of when to step out or how to feign immense pain. Fortunately, Ding Derun had a passion for learning; he diligently studied scamming techniques through various videos, broadening his knowledge.
Ding Derun possessed a unique skill that others lacked: he was a mechanic. Having repaired countless cars throughout his life, including many high-end ones, he could estimate braking distances accurately. This ability ensured that he rarely got hurt while scamming.
A year later, Ding Derun realized that he was born for scamming. From then on, the retired Ding Derun made scamming his profession.
Over the course of more than a decade in his scamming career, Ding Derun honed his skills and earned a substantial amount of money. He purchased a one-hundred-square-meter apartment as a wedding gift for his son.
One or two years ago, due to Ding Derun's exceptional skills, he attracted several apprentices. The elderly men sitting around him were among them; each paid Ding Derun a monthly tuition fee of one thousand yuan.
This was more than ten times what Ding Derun earned as a mechanic before.
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