Puzzle Madness

Chapter 12 Glands
Hahahahahaha——
Next door, there was another wave of laughter and clapping of hands, shaking the partitions and making a noisy sound. Hoarse and childish laughter mixed together, as if it was addressed to a father and daughter or a father and son.

John Dou held the cigarette between his teeth, raised his fist, and punched the cheap wallboard that separated the private room:

"Hey! Damn it—be quiet!"

Richard unplugged the headphones, carefully coiled them and the cord, and finally hung them on a nearby stand. These were the shared headphones in the bar, their sponge soaked in grease and cigarette smoke.
"I've heard the intelligence, let's go. Don't get angry, everyone is wearing headphones; the neighbors can't hear you at all--"

Eeehahaha hehehe
The joyful laughter grew louder and louder, drowning out his words; the child's shrill voice almost penetrated his eardrums, and the happiness and joy unique to human childhood almost became tangible.
-
Plop: John Dou suddenly stood up from the sofa, his thigh knocking the coffee table away, almost squeezing Richard out of the box:

"Wait, do something before you leave."

John Dou pulled up his windbreaker, opened the holster at his waist, grabbed his service pistol in his hand—an M1917 revolver with gray-green mold all over the wooden handle—and then pulled the hammer.

"Fuck, don't!"

Richard cursed out loudly and quickly crouched down: he did not fight for his partner's pistol that was ready to fire, but reached into his arms as quickly as possible - grabbed a pair of sunglasses and a handkerchief; clipped the sunglasses to the glasses frame and pressed the handkerchief to his face.

When Richard raised his eyes again, he saw John Dou raise his pistol, turn it around, and point it at the middle-aged man's head; the cold muzzle was pressed tightly against his temple. John Dou grinned and pulled the trigger:
Click. A crisp click, but without the loud noise of a primer igniting: John Dou's pistol was unloaded.

There was no gunfire, but another, harsher noise appeared.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh——
The laughter disappeared like bubbles, and crying suddenly sounded.

The laughter and noise in the next box or in the hall outside the curtain all stopped abruptly: instead, there were wails one after another, some shrill and some low - as if they had suddenly arrived at the mourning hall at a funeral.

Occasionally there were whispers filled with doubts and confusion, but because of crying, they turned into intermittent conversations with sobs and sobs.

"You're a fucking idiot."

Richard hid his eyes behind his sunglasses and used a handkerchief to catch the tears that fell. His nose was still sore and his throat felt like it had a stone stuck in it.
He just wanted to burst into tears and squeeze all the fluid in his body out of his tear ducts.

Through the haziness and blur in front of his eyes, Richard could see his partner tilting his head back, two lines of tears dripping down his cheeks into his laughing mouth.
-
For Mong Cai, today is a good day - the clouds cover the scorching fireball in the sky, allowing pedestrians on the road to avoid the scorching ultraviolet rays.

But the humid and stuffy heat is even more unbearable, and sweat mixed with moisture wraps every citizen in stickiness; the cars on the road are driving crookedly, and the exhaust gas is almost replacing the air.

Richard walked out of the bar and rubbed his red, swollen eyes beneath his sunglasses. The itching and dryness were more scorching than the scorching sun above his head.
"Hey, I've told you so many times, my eyesight isn't good. Don't do this around me. Medical insurance for field workers doesn't cover eye care."

John Dou lit another cigarette. Smoke rose from the corner of his mouth and was inhaled through his nostrils. He stared at the toes of his shoes with bloodshot eyes, expressionless—though he was tall and strong, he always walked with his head down, staring at the toes of his shoes, outdoors: “Doing this job, crying more is good for your mental health. It’s a way to vent, to release the pressure from work and business trips. Otherwise, you’ll be sent to see a psychologist when you go back to headquarters for your performance review.”

Richard pulled out a pen from his pocket, took the cap off with his mouth, bit it, and said vaguely:
"Come on, you just get upset when you see other people happy. Stop it, it's not good for everyone."

He turned to a new page in his notebook:
"Alright, alright, you know the rules. Look up and observe. I'm going to take notes."

John Dou's forward steps suddenly stopped, as if someone had paused them with a remote control. He turned his head sharply, his gray eyes and the upward-slanting heavy brows forming a fierce gaze:

"You—that's not necessary."

Richard still kept his head down, avoiding John Dou's sight, and placed the tip of his pen on the notebook paper:

"I know you don't want to look up again, but this time there were so many witnesses in the bar, so we'll definitely have to notify the aftermath. What do you want me to write in the report? Special Field Agent John Dou didn't recreate his crime scene, he just threw five or six canisters of tear gas in the bar?"

Snapped!
John Dou's big hand, with hair on the back and calloused joints, suddenly grabbed Richard's forearm:
"Alright. I apologize for dragging you into my outburst. I understand you're angry, partner, but I just can't help it. I know you're responsible for monitoring me, but you can also choose to simply use my previous observation records and slightly modify them here - right?"

Richard could feel the sharp pain in his forearm and the soreness in his fingers; he was about to lose his grip on the pen.

"Let go. Let go. Let me go!"

pat!

John Dou suddenly released his five fingers, causing Richard, who was still struggling to resist, to poke the tip of his pen into the notebook.

Richard shook his numb right hand and didn't look directly at John Dou:

"Got it. I'll write the report myself."

He flipped through his notebook and found the last observation record, preparing to fill it in the report:

[Subject (John Dou/Sinner 247), after recreating the crime scene ritual, completed observational procedures: Subject again observed the humanoid entity hovering above the city, as detailed below.]
[The humanoid entity appears to be a female child, aged between twelve and seven years old; Caucasian descent, Nordic type. Based on distance and reference points, it is estimated to be approximately 14.3 meters tall, but retains normal human proportions. The entity is wearing long pajamas, the specific brand and style of which cannot be determined.]
[The subject's movements consist of hands raised sideways, fingers spread, and legs standing side by side in the shape of a cross. The subject's face is unrecognizable, and it is unclear whether they are making any sound.]
[Entity identity presumption: Maintain the original presumption result.]
[Results of this observation: No change in entity size, no change in entity appearance, no change in entity behavior, and no increase in entity number.]
As he walked, his pen clicked on the report. Looking up, John Dou was already dozens of meters away, his figure distorted by the scorching heat. His head, with its matted gray hair, stared intently at the concrete ahead, a prominent bump on the back of his neck.

Richard sighed and put a check mark next to the option "Is the target stable?" and a cross next to the option "Does the target abuse ritualistic behavior?"

　I will post two more chapters today and tomorrow, ing, 12:10~
　　
　
(End of this chapter)