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墨書 Inktalez
Watching as the Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall finally couldn't hold back and walked into the complex, we sprang into action. According to my plan, Dezi, Yuzelin, and I would lead the way, with the others following closely behind us. The brothers in the monitoring room were keeping an eye on the surveillance feeds while communicating with us. The appearance of this Six Feet Three Inches tall man was quite distinctive; his height alone made him easy to identify, so we were aware of his movements.
The people in the monitoring room informed us that the Six Feet Three Inches tall man was currently in the hallway smoking, with his head down but his body twisting and turning. Analyzing this from the perspective of detectives from the Police Department, it seemed that his smoking was a ruse; he was actually observing his surroundings.
At this moment, we had reached the hallway but dared not proceed further up, fearing we might alert him. I raised my hand in the air, signaling for those behind to hold their position. We couldn't rule out that the Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall might be armed; if he fired a weapon in the hallway and a neighbor happened to come out, it could lead to unintended casualties—an outcome we could not afford. In other words, we had to wait until he entered his apartment before we could make our move.
Now, we were waiting for a signal from the brothers in the monitoring room. Fortunately, within just a few moments of smoking a cigarette, it seemed that this Six Feet Three Inches tall man noticed there was no one around and used his key to unlock his door and step inside. I gestured for everyone to follow closely behind me.
Peeking inside, I saw that the Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall was no longer in the hallway; he must have gone into his apartment. We tiptoed outside his door, avoiding the peephole while crouching down to listen for any sounds from within. This high-end complex had thirty floors, and the Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall's apartment was on the seventh floor. This meant there was no way for him to escape; however, our current challenge was how to apprehend him with minimal casualties.
The soundproofing outside seemed quite effective; even with my ear pressed against the door, I couldn't hear anything from inside. I whispered to everyone, "In a moment, Captain Yuzelin, Dezi, and I will charge in first. You two will stay outside while the rest follow us in. Remember, do not fire your weapons unless absolutely necessary. Understood?"
Everyone nodded in agreement.
In his haste to enter, he had left the security door ajar; although the inner door was closed, it wasn't necessarily locked. Dezi and Yuzelin exchanged glances with me as we drew our handguns and disengaged the safeties, ready to fire if danger arose. One hand gripped my knife at my waist while I slowly applied pressure to test whether the door was indeed closed.
With a gentle push, I felt the door slowly give way under my hand—it wasn't locked! Realizing this, I signaled with my fingers: three taps before suddenly pushing the door open wide. Dezi and Yuzelin rushed in first. Everyone took deep breaths; I noticed that my fellow detectives were visibly tense.
After all, it was possible that he also had a gun—bullets don't discriminate. Even though we were leading the charge into danger didn't mean those following would be safe. I closed my eyes while my hands continued their movements: three fingers raised, then two fingers, then one finger; as my fingers gradually retracted, everyone else grew increasingly tense.
Then I forcefully pushed open the door while Dezi led the charge inside followed closely by Yuzelin. I turned quickly and stepped into the room as well, taking in the situation inside. As soon as I entered, I saw that the Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall had turned around; his shocked expression indicated he hadn't expected us. Dezi and Yuzelin were quick on their feet with guns drawn; this large man reacted swiftly and recognized our identities immediately.
Between us and him stood a square table adorned with a vase of decorative flowers and several small cups—items that had been there during our last visit. We should have moved that table beforehand because although it wasn't large, it occupied half of the space and prevented us from charging forward all at once.
The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall clearly sensed the situation. At that moment, Dezi had already raised his gun and said, "Police, you..."
Before he could finish his sentence, darkness enveloped him as the table flew up into the air. The one who had flipped the table was none other than The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall. This table was not light; it was certainly not something an ordinary person could easily lift. Dezi was at the forefront, while Yuzelin and I found ourselves blocked by the flying table, forcing us to raise our hands to shield ourselves.
Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion, but it all happened in the blink of an eye. As Yuzelin and I raised our hands to protect ourselves, we began to step back. The table crashed heavily onto the ground, and then the detectives rushed in, but we were still stuck at the doorway, creating a chaotic scene.
When we looked up, we saw that Dezi had already reached The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall. The two were now engaged in a fierce struggle. In this situation, capturing him alive was crucial. If we could subdue The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall, we might learn about Guo Guoqing's whereabouts.
However, good intentions often clash with harsh realities. Standing at 1.8 meters tall, Dezi appeared almost like a middle school student next to the towering figure of Six Feet Three Inches. Although Dezi had decent skills, sheer strength often overpowered technique. Just as Dezi attempted to use a grappling move on the giant, the man suddenly charged forward and knocked Dezi down to the ground.
At that moment, Yuzelin raised her gun and said, "Don't move! If you do, I'll shoot."
But before Yuzelin could finish her warning, we saw that The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall also had something in his hand—a handgun. I noticed that it was loaded and the safety was off. This indicated that he knew how to use a gun, likely something he learned during Guo Guoqing's experiments.
We quickly formed a line, standing our ground with guns aimed at him. Dezi managed to get back on his feet and said, "Not bad."
The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall remained silent, standing at a distance with his gun pointed at us while five of us aimed our weapons back at him. I was the only one without a gun among them. It was then that I got a clear look at The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall.
He had dark skin and thick eyebrows over piercing eyes. His attire seemed quite ordinary, yet he exuded an air of competence—clearly someone who spoke little. Such individuals are often the hardest to deal with; we all know a simple truth: barking dogs seldom bite.
None of us dared to pull the trigger. We all wanted to capture this living Six Feet Three Inches but were unsure if he would suddenly fire his weapon. The atmosphere had dropped to freezing point; after Dezi's remark, no one spoke again. Tension filled the air as everyone grew increasingly anxious.
I made a subtle gesture for everyone to lower their guns slightly to avoid any accidental discharges and took a step forward. Addressing The Man Who Is Six Feet Three Inches Tall, I said, "Calm down. This is the seventh floor; you only have one gun while there are five of us here. You can't escape; even if you manage to kill some of us, there are police downstairs. Your best option right now is to put down your weapon and come with us. Do you understand?"
The man who is six feet three inches tall still held the gun, silent, his eyes fixed on me as if he wanted to see right through my soul. Noticing that he showed no intention of lowering the weapon, I hurriedly continued, "I know you are an accomplice of Guo Guoqing, but you need to understand that Guo Guoqing is not like you."
"Guo Guoqing is a minor. After committing murder, he won't be sentenced to the death penalty." I said slowly, "But you are different. If you stop now, I can consider it a confession, and I will do my best to help you reduce your sentence. But if you insist on going down this path, it will lead to your demise. Do you understand?"
As I spoke, I cautiously stepped forward, my heart racing. The big man continued to stare at me without any intention of firing or lowering his gun. That was what troubled me the most; it was quite difficult to handle. It felt like punching a pillow—no response, leaving me uncertain about what to do next.
The distance between the big man and me was only about two meters. This meant that if he suddenly chose to pull the trigger now, there would be little chance for me to escape. At such close range, unless he aimed for my feet, a shot would likely be fatal with no chance of survival.
I moved forward slowly while saying, "Now I'm going to take your gun away. Don't resist, and I'll consider it a confession, alright?"
At this moment, I was fully alert, not daring to let my guard down. One mistake could lead to a terrible outcome for me.
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