ecstasy

Previously, this long bamboo pressure plate was bent into an arc of almost 90 degrees by the corner of the iron window pane and the pull of the electric wire in the [customer's] hand; now it has finally straightened, releasing the kinetic energy converted from elastic potential energy.

It's like a primary school student bending a plastic ruler and tapping his deskmate's hand, only magnified many times, and even capable of killing someone:

The tactical dagger was thrust directly into the long bamboo strip, eliminating the need for rope or tape to secure it; only two-thirds of the blade was exposed through the strip—but that was more than enough to penetrate an eyeball.

Ding--

The narrow blade of the tactical dagger stopped right in front of John Dou's eyes, still trembling; his eyelashes seemed to touch the cold metal. He stared at the tip of the dagger, as if he was looking at the [client] from a distance:

"What the hell? Do you think we're on Home Alone?"

John Dou, expressionless, threw aside the long bamboo pressing board with the dagger embedded in it.

Da da da da da!

[The client] straightened her legs as her hands snapped onto the bamboo press and began to run again: her feet danced rapidly back and forth, and in a blink of an eye she was around the corner.

Simply by throwing away the bamboo pressure plate and resuming his shooting stance, [the client] once again left John Dou's shooting window.

-

[Tsk, after all this time, he's still faking an injury.]

The tens of seconds of time difference gained by landing first were not used to escape, but to set up a simple trap and then feign injury to lure:

This gambling-like action choice is completely contrary to the supporting role of sitting in the office.

But this choice was the right one: if we didn't find a way to stop John Dou's ability to move, there was no limit to how far [the client] could run. In this situation, only by eliminating the pursuers could we be safe.

Using broken flower pots to determine if John Dou had reached his target, walking with the help of a wall to conceal a makeshift pull mechanism, and using low visibility and the illusion of injury to conceal wires stuck in the wall and the awkward posture of pulling the wooden board.

If John Dou had just lowered his head to check the debris, or if he had raised his gun and aimed it at the [client] in fright, he would have fallen to the ground by now.

John Dou was willing to give her a high score for being able to design a feasible and threatening trap so quickly based on the materials on the scene.

Somehow, this recycling operation is becoming more and more like an instructor's assessment of the new employees' induction test.

However, this trap is not very sophisticated and is too idealistic. You also have to bet that John Dou will not shoot directly; only the clowns in the movies would die from this trap.

-

John Dou put down the pistol in his hand - this CZ-75 was his partner Richard's sidearm: a semi-automatic pistol from the Czechoslovak Arsenal.

He tucked his service pistol into his waistband and fastened it with his belt; judging by the current situation, he wouldn't need to carry his service pistol anymore.

Active, ingenious, and versatile; but immaturity overshadows these advantages.

【Let’s try a live one. 】

John Dou admitted that he had begun to appreciate his clients, but he no longer had any kind feelings. He wished his heart was made of iron, at least harder than his fists.

But there were indeed many quirks in this order, and the client's behavior further confirmed this—John Dou could no longer withstand the pressure. Now he needed more information to make a judgment; the cost of career choices in Asia-Europe Post was not simply a few days of annual leave and a promotion opportunity.

Richard has only been in the job for a short time, so he might not understand this yet. But John Dou knows it very well.

He raised his hand and hammered his jaw with the tip of his fist: a jaw that had been slightly activated by the impact was less likely to become dizzy. He had no sense of dignity: no matter the old, weak, or sick target, he would not hesitate to exercise caution; not to mention that the other party had also received training in the Special Package Handling Department.

John Dou doesn't like to keep live [customers] - but like the order he received this time, he is going to do something abnormal.

Ding!

There was the crisp ring of the elevator arriving and the sound of the sliding door being dragged.

-

John Dou was only about ten meters away from the [client], and there was only a corner to turn - as he had just said; this was not "Home Alone", he didn't think it would happen that the elevator door would close just in time and he wouldn't have time to open it.

John Dou started running: in front of him was a ninety-degree angled wall, and around the corner were stairs leading up and down the stairs and an elevator covered by a sliding door.

Corners and walls are not shelters, they are always just a cover.

ho.

John Dou grinned: his legs were still running fast, but his upper body suddenly bent forward -

call!

What greeted John Dou was not the back of the [client] fleeing into the elevator: it was the base of the fire extinguisher, long unused and covered in dirt and spider silk, suddenly protruding from the corner -

The dark red bottle swept over John Dou's head, and the scattered spider webs first stuck to his white and gray hair, and then exploded with the dancing air flow - if he didn't lower his head, the chrome-plated copper bottle would have hit John Dou's chin.

Boom!

The fire extinguisher hit the corner of the wall, leaving a shallow white hole.

The [customer] still had no intention of running away. Instead, he fought back by taking advantage of blind spots at the corners of the stairs and hard objects in the environment:

If it hits - John Dou's own weight, the inertia of running, and the correct impact position estimated based on height: even if the two people have a huge weight difference, John Dou can be easily knocked unconscious.

[What an academic. This is what office workers are like.]

Chapter 17 Beating

John Dou felt the wind brushing against his scalp and laughed quietly in his heart:

【it's over. 】

It seems that bringing back live [customers] without using ecstasy is not as difficult as I imagined.

next moment:

boom!

The [client's] body was twisted into a reverse "C" shape by the impact--

"Wow!"

John Dou's left shoulder felt like a bell log, striking the [client's] xiphoid process beneath his sternum. His compressed stomach churned, sending acid rushing back into his esophagus and out of his mouth and nose. This was also the first time John Dou heard the [client's] voice.

Younger than expected, but a little mute.

Dive

His bent left leg pushed against the ground, and his other leg lunged forward: bending at the waist, his arms transformed into giant clamps. His bulging quadriceps made the legs of his trousers bulge.

Hug and throw——

Thousands of times of training have made John Dou's movements as if he is flying close to the cement, or even out of sight; and the huge advantages of arm span and weight allow him to easily wrap the client's legs in his arms.

Boom!

The two men smashed into the open elevator door together.

-

John Dou stretched out his legs and lifted the client, whose center of balance had been lost - then, he threw her to the ground with her own weight: he put one foot in the elevator, causing the whole elevator to shake.

Boom!

[The client] twisted his upper body before landing and used his shoulders to absorb the impact with the concrete: he avoided a broken cervical vertebra.

But it’s far from over.

John Dou had no intention of continuing to switch positions and seek to use jiu-jitsu to submit the [client] from the top position - even though the client clearly had no experience in ground fighting.

It would have been easy to strangle her, but John Dou wasn't going to do that. He wanted the client alive, but he needed to violently remove the ability and will to escape.

He placed one knee on the client's midline, then suddenly lowered his upper body and raised his half-bent arms:

Click.

The sound of soft cotton snapping came from the bridge of [the client's] nose. A faint tinge of red crimson crept into the elbow of John Dou's tattered trench coat: just now, as he pressed down, he delivered a twelve-point vertical elbow strike to his opponent's face.

click!

There was another crisp sound. This time it was John Dou's second lateral elbow strike, followed by a scattering of broken teeth—the hardest human bones crushed the woman's mouth and nose, and blood sprayed onto his expressionless face: those gray-clouded eyes were devoid of any emotion.

[Clients] come in all genders, young and old. For field workers like John Dou, gender and age are completely irrelevant:

After entering the melee stage, his only concern was how to quickly destroy the opponent's ability to resist.

Gu-cough!

Blood and excess saliva swirled in [the client's] mouth, pouring back into her trachea, nearly choking her.

But then, she couldn't even choke to death on her own blood.

John Dou knelt on [the client's] body until he pressed his knees against her mouth, which was torn by broken teeth, and her throat. He spoke, his voice full of wheezing and phlegm, the sound of an old smoker after a strenuous workout:

"I competed in the NCAA championships in college, in Arizona. It's called the National Collegiate Athletic Association in Chinese. I was a light heavyweight, never won a medal, and only placed fourth in wrestling. But it was good enough."

He looked at the pair of eyes that were gradually overflowing with red due to congestion, and the face that was turning purple. He pulled out his pistol from his waist again, clicked the safety, and put it to the customer's forehead:

"Later, I also learned Sanda, BJJ, Sambo, and Muay Thai. People at the gym told me I should try mixed martial arts. I hadn't done that yet."

He didn't think the [client] had the energy to discern what he was saying, but John Dou just loved chatting with people like that.

First, it is to divert the other party's attention: although there is no record in the file, if the ecstatic manifestations of the [client] have already appeared, distracting the other party's attention will help reduce the intensity of the manifestations, or even suppress them.

The second is that John Dou really hasn't had a good conversation with others for some time.

Normally he didn't like to talk about himself - at least he couldn't open his mouth when looking at Richard's face - but he could talk freely about the corpses of his previous clients: according to the psychotherapist assigned to him by the human resources manager, this was a manifestation of lack of security.

But John Dou himself couldn't figure out whether the psychotherapist was really "helping John Dou find a way to heal himself" or whether he was further digging into his psychological trauma to enhance the intensity of his ecstatic manifestations.

This time it wasn't a corpse, which was a breakthrough for him:

Perhaps it was because the other person looked so young, and all those years spent in the office had left a hint of childishness on his face.

Hiss--Ga.

The [client] beneath her gradually began to make strange noises that were not human voices; she was on the verge of death from suffocation.

John Dou suddenly shifted his center of gravity and put his weight back on his toes resting on the ground:

"Give me the real package, and you'll get out alive. You've only been in this business for so long, and you've never done any field work. You can't hide it."

This was a lie, but it also had a grain of truth: He needed more than just a package; he needed information—and confidentiality after obtaining it. John Dou probably didn't understand why he told [the client] so much; perhaps the therapist really did help.

If there is really a secret behind this package, the [customer] must act with them. She and the information she knows may be an unexpected trump card.

hiss--

The [client], now able to breathe again, was soaked in sweat and blood, greedily swallowing all the oxygen in front of her. But this greed could not cover up the desire she wanted to express——

After taking two breaths, the [client] spoke vaguely, with broken teeth between his teeth:

"Can he survive?"

"Why? Because—because if your daughter were still alive she'd be about my age, or something like that?"

".And--and, I'm fucking awesome, right? You old dog, I almost ran away with such a big advantage--"

Her face flushed crimson as she clutched her side—her ribs had been broken in the previous fight. [The client] suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood stained with broken teeth.

"It's so powerful that you've even transferred my feelings. You want to imagine me as your daughter."

"So you want to give me a chance to live? That's too old-fashioned."

"It's so funny. It's so funny. Hahahahaha"

The laughter was tinged with phlegm and quacked like a duck.

John Dou's face was still as solid as plastic film, without a single ripple.

"Is it—strange? John Dou, I've seen your file. You—"

Boom!

[The client] didn’t get a chance to finish his words in the end.

John Dou's clenched fist hit her on the chin, causing her to faint.

-

John Dou grabbed the client by the back of her collar, dragged her into the elevator, and let her fainted lean her back against the elevator button.

This was indeed a quiet neighborhood—even though the fight had been so noisy before, John Dou couldn't hear a single sound now. Richard's choice of location was correct:

It's even a little too quiet. Is there really anyone still living in this community?

He sniffed and wiped it with the back of his hand:

Chatting at work was indeed a big mistake - it completely destroyed the little satisfaction John Dou had gained from successfully capturing [the client] alive.

Ding--bang!