Chapter 112

The wind picked up.

The swirling dust and sand sent the police officers gathered around the pomegranate tree, pine tree, broccoli, bamboo orchid, hanging basket plant, sensitive plant, and cactus scrambling—they stubbed out their cigarettes in the flowerpots and scattered to find shelter.

At the gate, Huang Qiang drove up.

"Sorry, an emergency meeting came up," Huang Qiang muttered to the provincial bureau official, then strode straight to Jiang Yuan's side.

The Great Luo of All Worlds

"Captain Huang." Jiang Yuan greeted him promptly.

"Good kid, you've really made us proud—excellent!" Huang Qiang suddenly pulled Jiang Yuan into a tight embrace, gripping his back and swinging him left and right.

Wei Zhenguo and the others stepped aside.

This gesture was reserved only for moments of extreme excitement; within the Criminal Investigation Unit, it was jokingly called "Death Roll"—a privilege granted only to officers who had survived life-or-death trials.

Jiang Yuan was tossed about by Huang Qiang's grip, but a smile crept onto his face anyway.

One special thing about the police force was how much closer colleagues became than in ordinary jobs—especially among criminal investigators.

During investigations, everyone ate and slept together; when escorting suspects, they crammed into the same crowded, airless Santana. Bonds formed quickly, and those who grew close became truly close.

Often, this kind of camaraderie was the very force that kept them working under the scorching sun, with balding heads, and without pay overtime.

After hugging Jiang Yuan, Huang Qiang let go and studied him carefully.

Like a long-distance boyfriend who'd traveled thousands of miles by train to see his girlfriend, he scrutinized Jiang Yuan down to the last detail.

Seeing his spirits and physical condition were good, his gaze steady—not at all like someone who'd been led astray by some outside man—he finally exhaled in relief.

He'd expected Jiang Yuan to shine in the fingerprint campaign, but never imagined he'd blaze so brightly.

Solving ten cold homicide cases in the fingerprint campaign was no small feat.

Cold homicide cases were excruciatingly painful.

Cases left unsolved for years could be more agonizing, more heart-wrenching than death itself.

The families shattered by them numbered far more than ten, leaving everyone nearby deeply shaken.

Justice may be late, but it never fails—that was the foundation of all hope.

"Well done! Amazing! All officers in our unit are proud of you. Your master's been grinning nonstop too—he told you to eat more red eggs."

Huang Qiang, like a gentle crocodile, smiled at a 66. -degree angle, then gave Jiang Yuan another heavy slap on the back—as if, had his mouth been big enough, he'd have bitten down on Jiang Yuan's head and shaken it to express his affection and joy.

Jiang Yuan had felt instantly comforted seeing Captain Huang so warm.

Captain Huang just had that kind of charm.

But his arm ached from the force of the slaps.

He could only grin dumbly.

Huang Qiang beamed at his prized asset Jiang Yuan, then turned to the rest of his team: "I'm going in to get the assignment. You guys rest—departure's coming soon… catch up first."

Seeing Wei's Changbaishan cigarette finished, Jiang Yuan pulled out his soft Zhonghua and passed one to each of them.

Huang Qiang snatched one first: "Alright, I'll smoke this one before I leave."

Everyone crushed their Changbaishan butts into the pomegranate tree's pot and replaced them with the Zhonghua Jiang Yuan offered.

On field ops, you just keep your head down—every extra movement's a waste.

Chat, smoke, earn 180 a day—grab any chance to slack off.

That's happiness.

A bit dull.

Huang Qiang entered the police station, then came out again—Liu Jinghui followed him out.

He still owed Huang Qiang a favor for lending Jiang Yuan, so he treated him with the courtesy of a tenant toward his landlord.

Thus, although Director Liu treated the chief of Changyang City's Criminal Investigation Brigade with indifference, he gave Huang Qiang, a squad leader, unusually warm treatment.

And this favoritism was shown right in front of his provincial bureau colleagues.

It made Huang Qiang feel immensely proud—he walked out with his back straight and a 55. -degree smile, thoroughly smug.

The suspect, Chen Fan, had been thoroughly drained.

He'd confessed to four murders, the poaching of over a dozen Class II or higher protected wild animals, rape, illegal firearm possession, illegal firearm manufacturing, wildlife trafficking, and more…

Unless it was a murder he personally committed, Liu Jinghui guessed Chen Fan would confess to any other case to secure "major meritorious service" status.

Now, capturing the ringleader was on the agenda!

"You're assigned to Jingye Town," Liu Jinghui said, gesturing to the group, then pulled Jiang Yuan aside and spoke to Huang Qiang.

Huang Qiang drew Jiang Yuan close and asked: "Why Jingye Town?"

"There's a hotel there, advertised as four-star, but some rooms and facilities are extravagantly luxurious—the favorite haunt of those five old hunters," Liu Jinghui whispered. "Chen Fan said they go to the Xin Hong Hotel in Jingye Town to party every so often."

"Fixed schedule?"

"People coming in and out of the mountains never have fixed schedules. But they always stay in a separate small building near the mountain—possibly with side or back doors. When you get there, you need to map out the terrain and environment."

Huang Qiang nodded slowly.

Liu Jinghui grew more serious: "I lean toward apprehending them outside the mountains—Jingye Town is the top priority. I'm taking responsibility assigning this to Ningtai County—you must do your homework thoroughly. These five are vicious, armed, and you can't be too careful."

As he spoke, Liu Jinghui's gaze drifted toward Jiang Yuan.

Huang Qiang didn't need to be told: "Jiang Yuan's a technician—he's never fired more than two bullets. He won't be going in."

Jiang Yuan actually wanted to volunteer—he'd become a cop out of passion, eager for a real fight in peacetime. This opportunity was rare.

But he reconsidered.

Though he'd undergone training before joining, it had been superficial. Compared to colleagues who'd trained for two or three years in police academy and gained years of field experience, his combat capability was negligible.

Against a No. 12 shotgun, a bulletproof vest couldn't guarantee anything. If he insisted on going, he'd likely end up needing colleagues to protect him.

Jiang Yuan chose to stay silent.

Liu Jinghui exhaled in relief—he'd feared Jiang Yuan's youthful impulsiveness, which was why he'd summoned Huang Qiang before giving the order.

After hearing Chen Fan's description of the killings and the weapons and supplies the five hunters carried, Liu Jinghui immediately ruled out an ambush in the dense forest.

The risk was too high—even with armed police reinforcements, searching would be difficult, and successfully capturing them even harder.

Looking back at all forest manhunts since the founding of the nation—including the famous hunt for the "Two Wangs"—even tens of thousands of men could take months to complete.

In contrast, these five old hunters had spent their entire lives in the woods—they were true hunters. The Wu Longshan mountain range around them was their home turf. The "Two Wangs" were formidable, but they'd fled through unfamiliar forests with nowhere safe to rest.

These five hunters knew Wu Longshan intimately.

Wu Longshan, stretching across two provinces, wasn't a small hill—it spanned over a hundred kilometers in main ridges, with even larger surrounding areas. Jiang Yuan and Liu Jinghui had struggled just walking along the outer hunter trails; venturing deep into the protected zone could drag on indefinitely.

Moreover, these men were heavily armed.

The 9mm pistol held a crushing advantage over the police's standard "little smashers."

Double-barreled shotguns were devastating in urban alleyway combat.

What worried Liu Jinghui most was that the five hunters carried Savage M110 rifles. This rifle, standardized in the 1950s–60s, had two exceptional traits: extreme accuracy and extremely low cost.

Including all modified versions, over 3. million Savage M110 rifles had been sold worldwide—synonymous with affordability and quality. Sales in China had also been strong, with many models capable of mounting scopes.

Given this, the armed police's recommendation was to simulate drills to "drive them out" of Wu Longshan first.

The protected zone deep in Wu Longshan had harsh conditions; unless necessary, the hunters likely wouldn't stay long. To avoid capture, they'd probably flee the forest early and check into a hotel.

Besides Jingye Town, they had safe houses in several towns surrounding Wu Longshan—"a clever rabbit has three burrows."

Liu Jinghui was now concerned about their lack of inside information.

Whether it was the incident in Wenxiang, Chen Fan's arrest, or the armed police drills—if someone inside tipped them off, everything would be exposed.

But Liu Jinghui reasoned that these hunters were social outcasts—having sunk to this level of evil, even developing a habit of killing without hesitation, they needed vast sums of money to maintain ties with normal humans, let alone their own circle.

A face that could scare children into tears could scare leaders to death.

"Depart early, prepare thoroughly. Avoid armed confrontation if possible," Liu Jinghui reiterated. "If the armed police can spare personnel, they'll send help. If not, it's all on you."

"Understood. We'll complete the mission," Huang Qiang's expression turned utterly serious—this case truly demanded blood.

Standing beside Captain Huang, listening to their conversation, Jiang Yuan's heart surged with excitement—his fists clenched involuntarily.