Police officer Chen Shu

Chapter 374 Chen Shu's Hasty Escape
In the office, Chen Shu, who had been frowning, was now listening intently, craning his neck to ask Xu Mingliang, "Brother Xu, what happened later? Your apprentice couldn't..."

Xu Mingliang shook his head with a bitter smile, tears welling in his eyes, and said, "He's not dead, but most of his hands are useless. Sigh, he's only in his early twenties, not even married yet! I was so selfish, pushing him into this position so I could get promoted and transferred smoothly at the end of the year. Didn't he realize that a young man like him must have his own ambitions? He must have been uncertain about his future?"

As he spoke, his tone was tinged with a hint of choked emotion and deep remorse.

Even after all these years, he still deeply condemns his irresponsible self from back then. Perhaps, after his apprentice met with misfortune, Xu Mingliang's own heart also broke down.

So he ultimately chose to escape, retreating from the renowned only bomb disposal expert in the municipal bureau to an ordinary patrol captain in a district and county brigade.

For those who are capable, lying down is actually a form of suffering.

The once capable bomb disposal expert has now become a nobody in the team, perhaps a form of spiritual self-redemption for Xu Mingliang.

This accident will probably haunt Xu for the rest of his life. He must have been feeling terrible all these years, which is why he fled here. Chen Shu leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

After a while, Xu Mingliang's voice slowly came over: "In this case, the fact that Chen Chuan is alright is the luckiest thing for us. In comparison, you don't need to worry too much about whether Old A lives or dies. He's a murderer who also attacked the police with a gun; if we catch him and send him to jail, he'll face the death penalty anyway."

Chen Shu simply stared at the ceiling, casually responding with "uh-huh" without any particular reaction.

Xu Mingliang scratched his nose, realizing that his skills in comforting people were really lacking, so he hastily summarized the matter.

“Chen Shu, since Old A dared to point a gun at the police, he should be prepared to be shot dead by the police.”

Chen Shu, leaning back in his chair, slowly raised his legs and propped them up on the desk. He rested his arms on the armrests of the chair, gently rubbing them together, and murmured:

"Since we police officers can shoot and kill criminals, we must also be prepared to be killed by them."

The office fell silent immediately.

In the dead of night, Chen Shu sat alone in his office, recalling the day's arrest operation, and wrote a report titled "The Arrest Process." This was the basic procedure for handling cases, and Chen Shu, who had worked in the police station for many years, was extremely familiar with it, finishing it in a few short moments.

After completing the "Capture Process" report, Chen Shu also had to write a report on the firing of the gun, starting with the surrounding environment and the situation of the people involved, including but not limited to the trajectory of the bullet, the impact of the bullet, the necessity of firing the gun, and the consequences, all of which had to be clearly written.

If the fired bullet is lost or cannot be found, an explanation for why the bullet could not be found must be provided. The procedure is quite complex, a far cry from the situation decades ago when police could freely carry and fire weapons.

Chen Shu joined the police force after graduating from police academy several years after H country began strictly controlling and standardizing the use of police firearms. Therefore, in the seven or eight years since he started working, under the current circumstances, police officers are reluctant to even carry firearms with them, let alone fire them.

Unless faced with an extremely dangerous situation, guns are generally not used. However, no one can say for sure how to determine the degree of "extreme danger," including the police officer involved who fired the shot in that situation.

Because internal oversight departments with performance targets and external public opinion that focuses on trending topics may not accept your views.

Chen Shu sat at his desk, typing on the keyboard for a long time and then pausing for a while. When he was not satisfied, he had to keep pressing the "delete" key to delete a large section.

In addition to the actual actions taken, the work of the police is equally tedious in terms of written materials; the two are equally important.

This process was repeated until dawn, when finally, with a heavy press of the Enter key, the report was painstakingly completed.

Chen Shu shut down the computer, raised his arm and twisted his numb neck a few times. He was physically and mentally exhausted, but still didn't feel sleepy.

He simply got up, walked to the window, and opened it, letting the cool morning breeze blow into the room to dispel his fatigue.

The chill reminded Chen Shu of the scene before Old A's death.

It was very cold then, but his gradually dimming eyes only showed his longing for his family.

The next day.

After a sleepless night, Chen Shu finished his shift at 8:30 and met with Xie Chi, the deputy instructor who came to hand over the duties. He handed Xie Chi the "Report on the Capture" and "Report on the Shooting" from the previous night's operation. Without even having breakfast, he drove his black Volkswagen Golf straight to Yong'an County.

Last night, he checked Lao A's file through the police intranet and obtained information about his wife and daughter, as well as their current address, which is in Yong'an County, north of Zhengming District.

According to the "Police Use of Equipment and Weapons Ordinance," when encountering violent crimes, police officers may open fire without giving a warning.

Legally speaking, Chen Shu was in the right to shoot. However, after learning that Chen Chuan, who was shot by the Old A, was not in mortal danger, he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy when he thought about his resolute act of killing Chen Chuan, which was driven by anger.

Old A may deserve to die, but his family shouldn't have to endure such pain.

Normally, the aftermath of a shooting shouldn't require the involvement of the police involved, but Chen Shu harbored a grudge ever since. Call him a saint or a hypocrite, that's just who he is.

After driving north for more than an hour, they arrived at their destination. Chen Shu parked the car in a secluded corner at the entrance of the village and then walked to where Old A's wife and daughter lived.

Standing in this two-story self-built house by farmers, Chen Shu hesitated. He didn't know how to introduce himself.

"Your husband was legally killed by me?"

"Your father was shot dead on the spot because he had a murder case on his record and attacked a police officer with a gun?"

“My actions were in accordance with the law.”

"."

Chen Shu couldn't imagine such a cruel scene, and he felt ashamed towards Lao A's wife and daughter.

However, he came today with a purpose.

That was the whistleblower that Old A mentioned before he died that night; Little B and the others still owed him a clean million yuan.

With a creak, the iron door on the first floor was opened from the inside, and a woman who was nearly forty years old and dressed simply walked out of the house with her head down, carrying a red bucket.

She looked very tired.

As he stepped out the door, he bumped into Chen Shu standing outside and asked in confusion, "Who are you looking for?"

This caught Chen Shu off guard. He wanted to tell the truth, but the words just wouldn't come out.

The scene was a little awkward.

Seeing the woman's brow furrowing more and more, and her eyes gradually revealing wariness.

"Old A asked me to pass on a message to you." Chen Shu took a half step back, glancing sideways to avoid eye contact, and hurriedly said, "A few of his old acquaintances, a guy called Little B, still owe him a million. He says it's clean money, and you should just go and ask them for it. After you get the money, you have to give half to a mother named Little Ming."

After saying that, he took two steps forward, threw a common white note into the empty bucket the woman was carrying, and fled without looking back.

A small head with a ponytail peeked out from the south-facing window on the second floor and called out to the woman standing downstairs:
"Mom, who was that person just now?"

Since her husband's accident, the woman, who had been struggling alone to support her elderly parents and young children, suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. She freed her left hand to retrieve the small note from the bucket, looked at the phone number written on it, and recalled the man's undisguised nervousness. She murmured:

"Maybe he's a good person."

(End of this chapter)