Artifact Report

Chapter 82: Chasi: One Minute
"Hmm?" Frye looked up. "What did you say? I didn't hear you clearly."

Chai Si didn't say anything. Another young policeman heard it, and with a hint of amusement, he volunteered, "He just said he wanted to borrow our phone."

"ha,"

Frye pulled a cell phone from his pocket, slapped it on the table, and slid it across the surface toward Chase. "You want to borrow this? Go ahead."

As soon as Chase lowered his eyelids, Frye snatched the phone back with his attitude as if he was teasing a dog.

"But you don't really need me to lend it to you, do you? You're such an important character, and whenever you want to use my phone, you can just take it yourself."

Chai Si didn't get angry, he just nodded: "You are right."

He turned his eyes and looked around the interrogation room.

The design and construction of this interrogation room is very standard: there are no windows on the entrance door, and the door only opens outwards to prevent someone from blocking the door from inside and turning the interrogation room into a closed space.

The chair the suspect was sitting on was nailed to the ground; the ceiling was flat, with no place to climb. The room was small, only about 2.5 meters by 3 meters. Besides three chairs and a table, there was only audio and video equipment on the wall.

Looking at the interrogators, they were undoubtedly armed. If he made the slightest movement, reinforcements would arrive from outside this door at any moment—this was the Blackmore City Central Police Station, after all. Excluding the field and civilian personnel, there should be at least dozens of armed police officers in the building.

Looking back at myself, not only did I have nothing, but even my hands were handcuffed.

The only thing on his body was the false image of a "rumor" in his mouth, which was of no use at this moment.

His gaze swept across every corner of the room, inch by inch, and seemed to make Frye angry and uneasy at the same time.

"What are you looking at? I'm asking you a question!" He slammed the table hard and asked, "When was the last time you saw Evan Weston?"

...The bodyguard?
In other words, the goal of the person behind today's events is the same as his, a false image spread after Vesile's death, right?
Who could have turned the Blackmore City police system into his own private army?

In the past, the only person who could mobilize the police system for his own personal use was Vesile. But Vesile was already dead, even his body had been buried. Who else in Blackmore City could do that?

It didn't matter who it was; as long as I got out, I'd find the answer someday. If I couldn't get out today, the answer wouldn't matter.

Chai Si raised his eyes and looked at the two people opposite him, surprisingly calm.

The closer he got to the fight and the less chance of winning he had, the calmer he became.

After all, people only get nervous when they can't accept the consequences. As he approached the critical moment of life and death, he felt as if he were someone tired of living this life. His emotions were detached, and he was just arranging the final things one by one.

For example, the first thing you do is reach for your coffee cup.

When he put the cup down just now, he placed it half an arm's length away from him, facing the young policeman - Chase was tall and slender, and with a slight stretch of his arm, he could span half the table, so putting the coffee cup a little further away did not seem unnatural at all.

With both hands handcuffed together, when the right hand holds the cup, the left hand can only be stretched out and hung under the table.

"Did you know that Ivan escaped early in the morning after Vesile's death?"

Fry asked as Chase's fingers touched the paper coffee cup.

He smiled at Frye, showing his white teeth.

The next second, Chase gave his wrist a slight shake, and the paper cup rolled across the table, splashing the coffee liquid like watercolor under the painter's brush - the young policeman reflexively stepped back, and Fry's attention was also drawn there for a moment.

A moment is enough.

The left hand hanging under the edge of the table suddenly flipped over and grabbed the table from below at the same time as the cup rolled out.

The interrogation room table, which was not nailed to the ground, seemed to have no weight in his hands; Chai Si just lifted it up and easily lifted the entire table - he had already stood up from the chair, and as soon as the table left the ground, he kicked under the table, causing it to fly out like a cannonball.

The two policemen, momentarily distracted, barely reacted when the table flew towards them, still sitting in their chairs. A cry of surprise escaped them before they, along with their chairs, were toppled to the ground by the table's hurling impact. The concrete floor splattered with the muffled crack of wood and bones. In just a few breaths, every action had been rehearsed in their minds, becoming instinct.

Chai Simao bent down, jumped up, and landed squarely on the overturned table. His weight made the two people under the table scream in pain, and there seemed to be a faint sound of broken arms - he staggered slightly, as if he was standing on a seesaw, and quickly regained his balance.

The police in Blackmore City are not fools. They will not bring guns into the interrogation room. They are just preventing situations like this one. So Chai Si just lowered his head and took a quick look. He didn't waste any time searching for his gun.

As he stepped down from the table, he grabbed a metal table leg with both hands and broke it off with a sudden force; the screws rolled to the ground, making a series of crisp sounds.

Chai Si calculated every second with extreme precision. When he took a few steps across the narrow room, the door of the interrogation room was just opened.

If it weren't for the time when he had no feelings, Chai Si would probably have felt bored.

It's not that he's bored because he feels he has a sure win.

He just did one thing at a time, knocking down people one after another, without any tension or fear - the metal table leg swung out a gray shadow in mid-air and hit the man's temple hard, making him fall down like a clay figure, without even having time to pull the trigger.

Chai Si's hands were still handcuffed together, so that every movement he made was like a wonderful dance.

The metal table leg swirled out of the door, startling several policemen who had caught up from behind and causing them to take a few steps back. In this tiny gap, he bent down, reached out, and grabbed the man's pistol on the ground.

"you--"

The young policeman roared in anger from behind. It seemed that he had only just risen from under the table and shouted a single word, just then meeting the muzzle of Chase's gun.

Every second counted without a moment's hesitation. The sound of gunfire shattered the air in the room. The young policeman immediately fell to the ground like a Lego block that had been kicked apart.

If you want to do something, you must do it to the extreme and there is no turning back.

Chai Si raised his gun and fired several bullets at the door of the interrogation room; he was not trying to knock anyone down, but just to suppress the police reinforcements outside the door so that they would not dare to rush up together.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Chase took a few steps back, kicked the table away, and stepped on Fry's chest.

It seemed that Frye was about to raise his hand to lift the table when Chase jumped up and crushed his arm bone through the table; he was groaning at this moment and had not yet been able to get up - even though Chase had turned the situation around with one hand, it was only a few seconds.

"Get up," Chase said, lowering his eyes. He held the gun with both hands, then swung the muzzle toward Frye's head. "It's time to say hello to your colleagues."

Frye understood what Chase meant in an instant.

He shouted at the door at the top of his lungs, "Don't come in! Don't shoot! Don't be impulsive!"

"Not bad," Chai Si glanced at the door and smiled. "Tell them to close the door."

"Close the door, close the door!" Frye shouted.

The interrogation room was well soundproofed; as soon as the door closed, Chai Si immediately turned his head without looking back, and gently turned the pistol, and the one-way glass shattered - countless fragments of silver light poured down like a waterfall, revealing an empty room behind the glass.

It took less than a minute, which was enough time for the person behind the glass to see that the situation was not good and turn around and leave.

Chase put the gun in his right hand, squatted down beside Fry, lowered his head, and looked him over several times like a carnivorous beast smelling its prey, then gave him a grin.

"Uncuff me," he whispered, "Now, can I borrow your phone?"

　The chapters have been getting shorter and shorter these past few weeks. What used to be one chapter has now been split into two days... I haven't had a good night's sleep in the past two weeks. It might be because of lack of sleep. My ADHD symptoms are really worse than ever...

　　Although the response to Shiba Inari is always quite lukewarm, I still like writing about him, especially his fighting scenes, which are quite exciting to write (reading the text may not be as intuitive and exciting as watching the pictures, but the pictures in my mind are quite exciting anyway).

　　Anyway, there's really no need to criticize female authors for writing likable male characters. Straight women are the dung beetles of human society; they're already poorly fed, so give them a chance. Few people would entertain illusions about the bleak reality just because of the mental satisfaction of a paper mannequin...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)