ecstasy

On summer nights, the people of Mong Cai always like to have a few drinks - but a few drinks can unknowingly turn into drunkenness, arguments with neighbors and even flying beer bottles; Mong Cai’s police force is often consumed in such places.

Near dawn, the officer on duty found the forensic doctor surnamed Liu performing surgery in the hospital across the street. According to eyewitness accounts, he was carried there by a young man in a yellow raincoat; the young man disappeared in the blink of an eye:

This undoubtedly makes the whole thing even more bizarre, and it cannot explain the inexplicable serious injury and disappearance of forensic doctor Liu in the police station. Other colleagues in the forensic department found the bullet that tore open the carotid artery of forensic doctor Liu in the wall of the morgue; but it only cast another layer of mystery over the whole incident.

Therefore, after this night, the installation of closed-circuit television in every department, including the morgue, was included in the budget of the Mong Cai City Police Department.

But what exactly happened in the middle of the night? Perhaps we will have to wait until the forensic doctor surnamed Liu wakes up from his coma to get an answer: but at this moment, not many people have had time to connect it with the four Eurasian postal employees who were murdered.

Four heavily armed and far better equipped Asia-Europe Post employees than the Mong Cai police officers – their bodies were picked up separately by a third party a few days later.

Of course, some people understand the strange inside story.

-

Doudou, the mathematician and their new friend [Li Chuck] - but it is still unknown in which of them the word "friend" exists.

Although they made a scene in the police station, they actually didn't go far away from the police station.

After leaving the police station through the door they had dug out, they turned two streets and set up a table in a dirty food stall.

Mong Cai is still very noisy at night. The drinkers and diners lingering in the food stalls and barbecue restaurants seem to be working in shifts. After one group has eaten and drunk their fill, another group comes to fill the vacant seats.

In the public restroom, the mathematician had already taken off his sweat- and blood-soaked, pink shirt, crumpled it up, and tucked it under his arm; the other arm still held the dirty cardboard box. He was wearing a vest underneath his shirt, which seemed quite appropriate for the sweltering midnight.

Richard placed his hands on the plastic-covered dining table, folding his fingers together.

"It's best not to bunch up your shirt, right? Just open it and shake it out. It'll dry quickly in this weather. Holding your shirt in a ball will only make you look weird and draw attention."

Doudou stretched out his hand, pointed at the man named Richard, and then nodded at the dizzy mathematician:

"Hey, brother—your name is Richard, right? Are you here to hunt him down? I'm talking about my neighbor, the one wearing glasses. Oh, you wear glasses too, that's the skeleton with the thicker lenses."

The mathematician shuddered when Doudou pointed his finger at him:

"Doudou, why are you suddenly talking like that?"

Doudou looked around and put his palm to his mouth:

"That's how you talk when you're at a food stall. Be more enthusiastic. Got it? Learn from me!"

Richard turned his head and looked the mathematician up and down seriously:

"Did he offend anyone? Perhaps if you tell me the details, I can find a way to help."

Doudou stared at Richard steadily. Unlike his lively and enthusiastic words, Doudou had no physical movements or expressions.

"Oh! don't you recognize him? He's a famous mathematician—falsely accused, doctor; what were you falsely accused of?"

Doudou's voice was neither loud nor soft - it was drowned out by the noisy sounds of finger-guessing games, clinking of bottles and shaking of dice around him.

The mathematician tilted his head slightly and glanced around. No one seemed to be interested in their little conversation. He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

Richard put his hands on the table and crossed his fingers:

"Doctor—I'll follow Doudou and call you Doctor too."

"You can rest assured that no one around here is particularly curious about what you have to say. Even if there is, the situation is noisy enough right now, and at most they will think it's just drunken talk. Speak freely, I happen to know a little bit about this."

"Hmm—famous. Something to do with mathematics. Framed. Ah, I think I know who you are: you're disguised by changing your body shape, but I recognize you. You seem to be in the news all the time these past few months?"

Doudou tore off the plastic wrapping the tableware and rinsed the dishes, bowls, and chopsticks in the boiling water brought by the boss, while responding with surprise:

"Look, look, Doctor! I told you, everyone knows you! You're a big star!"

He suddenly turned his head back to Richard, and the topic was cut short:

"You both wear glasses. But your temperaments are quite different. What do you do for a living, Lao Li? You said you work in special affairs. Well, come on, tell us."

At this moment, Richard accidentally made eye contact with Doudou--

Richard's body suddenly stiffened and tensed; then he turned his head and looked in another direction.

"Oh my—we just rescued someone together, so we're friends now. Don't be shy, don't be shy. This is the first time someone has asked me if they can kill me. You're really funny."

Doudou was grinning, his eyes almost curved upwards into a semicircle—but it seemed that no one present noticed he was smiling.

"So, do you have anything more fun going on? Come on, tell me."

Richard's hands remained on the table. He didn't inhale deeply, nor did he tremble like a mathematician; his forehead was covered with sweat, perhaps from nervousness, but that was normal on the hot night in Mong Cai. He nodded, his features tense, like an intern going for a job interview.

"..I..I'm- sorry, it's so hot; a little breathless."

His previously smooth and fluent speech became fragmented and intermittent after he looked into Doudou's eyes. He ripped open the collar buttons of his shirt. The sweltering night seemed to make Richard breathless:

"I am a former field agent of the Asia-Europe Post. However, for some reason, I am being hunted by the Asia-Europe Post."

Doudou seemed completely oblivious to the emphasis Richard placed on the word "before":

"Hey—agents! What about the FBI, CIA, KGB, Mossad, or anything like that? I heard on the radio about these intelligence agencies and stuff, and I thought it was just a conspiracy theory! This is the first time I've seen it in real life—let's not talk about that for now; Doctor! Doctor, listen to this!"

"Hey! What a coincidence, what a coincidence! Doctor, not only do you both wear glasses, but you're both being hunted now. What a coincidence! How about it? Can you two be good friends?"

In the bustling food stall, there is a somewhat strange scene--

At the table of three, two of them stared down at the table in front of them, as if there was some kind of code hidden in the plastic tablecloth, which was worth pondering and deciphering.

The mathematician nodded vigorously, but it might just have been a shiver down his spine.

"Oh—you're all so shy! Agent Li, please continue. I'm sorry for interrupting you."

Richard nodded and continued the conversation:

"It doesn't matter. In fact, my current predicament has a lot to do with the doctor—"

"If I remember correctly, he should be the 'Iron Ruler Murderer' that the radio often talks about. My daily work also includes listening to various radio stations, so I have some impression of this incident."

The mathematician said in a muffled voice, his head buried in the cardboard box:

"I'm not some iron-clad killer."

Richard took off his glasses, blew on them carefully, wiped them with the hem of his shirt, and put them back on. Now, he no longer looked into Doudou's eyes:

"Well, I know you're definitely not."

It wasn't a tone of agreement, but a resolute determination—

"Because I just ran into the real Iron Ruler Killer during the day. This guy was hiding in my safe house, a secret hiding place, and wanted to kill me. The so-called iron ruler is that kind of iron triangle ruler, long and wide, right?"

The mathematician suddenly raised his head from the cardboard box, and his cervical vertebrae made a cracking sound.

Chapter 44 Lies

A grill rack was set up at the entrance of the food stall. The aproned grill master held a handful of skewers and spun the meat skewers over the charcoal blocks, grease dripping and sparks flying from time to time.

Doudou clapped his hands lightly, the sound like the most enthusiastic listener; but the smoke like a thick barbecue mist just happened to drift past, covering his eyes and the upper half of his face, making the grinning mouth look a little scary:

"Eh—waha! Is this true? What a coincidence."

The words are full of emotion, overflowing with encouragement and kindness; it makes people want to continue telling the story.

Richard raised his hands and gestured with the invisible iron ruler in front of his chest:

"Although it's made of iron, the edges aren't sharp; it's really just a classroom tool, not a weapon. But it can be used to stop bullets and break concrete. It's so scary! I barely managed to escape—"

Doudou seemed completely absorbed by Richard's description, and the movement of his facial muscles became more and more intense:

"Ha—it can even block bullets! Doesn't that mean it has superpowers?"

"So what does this Iron Butcher look like? How old is he? Does he look fierce or does he wear a mask or something? Did you see him with your own eyes?"

Richard frowned, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. Although he avoided Doudou, his gaze was fixed firmly on the empty space; the slight panic he had felt a moment ago was completely gone:

"I still recognize her: the media gave her a nickname like 'Butcher,' but she's actually a woman. She's in her forties, has dark red hair, wears braces, and isn't from here—I know her identity. She's also from Asia-Europe Post, and she's my boss."

"For some reason, she wanted to kill me. That's one of the reasons why I became a [former] Asia-Europe postal agent. I'm afraid there's no room for me in the company now."

"Asia-Europe Post has a department called the Special Package Handling Department, and she is the head of this department."

The mathematician's fingers were intertwined, and his whole body was trembling. He didn't pay any attention to what Richard said about women and section chiefs, and was still immersed in what he wanted to hear:

"The details are indeed as fine as an unsharpened ruler, a large triangle. I'm saying it wasn't me—I didn't kill anyone."

Doudou tilted his head—his face was like a finished plaster statue, his smile unchanged:

"Ha! Doctor, you're so gullible—wasn't the story of your mentor, fellow students, and the cleaning lady being ripped off by a metal triangle ruler all on the news? And weren't all those details broadcast on TV and the radio, too?"

"Li, the spy, works in intelligence, so how could he not know? He just said he wanted to listen to every radio station. Hmm, so everyone only listens to what they want to hear?"

"And it sounds like Agent Li's boss really loves his job: he's so hands-on, doing all the dirty work; he's always the first to take the lead—"

It was as if he were talking to a mathematician, but Doudou's smile moved him closer to Richard. A fly flew past Doudou's brow, rested and moved on the white of his unblinking eye, and then was crushed to pieces by Doudou's fingers as it flew away:

"Agent Li, why do I feel like you're lying to me? Am I overthinking it?"

The mathematician, who was still trembling, stopped; he also felt the ominous meaning that permeated the air along with the oil smoke.

Richard looked at the fly that was crushed into a pulp: the fly's legs were as thin as hair, stuck in the cracks of Doudou's fingernails - no matter how he turned his gaze, it would not meet Doudou's eyes.

There was not much panic and fear on his face, as if he knew that what he said would be questioned before he opened his mouth.

He just stared intently and completely at the tiny insect corpses; it seemed as if the rest of the world had nothing to do with him:

"There's one more thing I know—it's definitely not in the news."

"Were you attacked? Earlier this evening. I'm not talking about thugs with bricks and knives; I'm talking about heavily armed commandos—with fully automatic rifles and body armor."

"I think not many people know about this yet. I think it can at least prove something."

Doudou finally pulled a piece of tissue paper from the table and wiped the fly's body on it. His face turned into a frozen photograph, without a single change of expression:

"Oh? You're right. Keep going? Could it be that—these people are actually...?"

Richard nodded seriously—but his direction was a little strange, as if there was another invisible person beside Doudou:

"You're very smart and quick-witted, Doudou. Yes, these people are the company's internal military force."

Even if this compliment was perfunctory or flattering, Richard never showed it:

"From what I know, the troops that attacked you were sent by the Asia-Europe Post."

"So Doudou, you're right to be worried: Asia-Europe Post is now chasing the doctor. As for whether to kill him or capture him, I don't know."

Doudou carefully folded the napkin and placed it in the trash can at his feet. He continued to ask, but the enthusiasm in his words had disappeared without a trace:

"why?"

Richard didn't answer immediately, but just expressed his confusion with his outstretched hands; the sweat from his chin began to slide down his neck, and some even hit the plastic tablecloth on the dining table, dripping.

"So how did you know someone attacked me and the doctor, huh? You should have a reasonable explanation? Come on, I'm waiting to hear it - is this why you became a [former] agent?"

Richard moved his head and stiff neck slightly - it was hard to tell whether it was a nod or a shake of the head:

"After I defected from Asia-Europe Post, I received information that Asia-Europe Post might be planning some action in Mong Cai. So I wanted to use my previous intelligence resources to monitor the company's communications in Mong Cai."

"You know? Like in the movies when the criminals listen in on the police radio, but in code. And then I hear they're about to make a surprise arrest."

Richard raised his hand and placed it on the mathematician's shoulder. The skinny man shuddered.

"There's news about the doctor's arrest. It should be because of his research or something, right? The intelligence didn't mention it, so I'm not sure."

"As for the reason why I defected from Asia-Europe Post - it was actually..."

"Hey, hey—wait a minute."

Doudou raised his hand to stop Richard from finishing his words:

"It seems to sound quite reasonable, but I also have some guesses."

"For example—are you actually still an active agent for the Asia-Europe Post? You just happened to be on some secret company mission or something, and you ran into me at the police station. Now, because you don't want to die, you're making up some lies? Do you think this possibility is more likely?"

"Could this Iron Ruler Demon you described actually be your enemy? You wanted to kill her, so you called her the Iron Ruler Butcher. It's because you've discovered that I hate evil and hate evil! I can't tolerate even the slightest bit of evil and injustice!"

"Hey! This aunt you're talking about might actually be your boss. Does your company have some sort of system where you fire the boss and the employees below take over—the ones who survive are the stronger employees? Or is she always giving you a hard time?"

"What do you think? What do you think of my hypothesis—that you are lying to me?"

The mathematician still kept his head down, but his eyes, hidden behind his lenses, moved cautiously left and right, moving between Doudou and Richard. He seemed to see the agent's head like a ball, slapped away from his body by Doudou, rolling around; streams of blood gushed out from his broken neck, spraying all over the table.

He began to look for a suitable angle to avoid the blood and brain matter that were about to splatter. He no longer cared about how much trouble and pursuit he would get into.

The mathematician could see that Richard's cheeks were puffed up from clenching his teeth, his face was as pale as a death, and his hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead in strands:

".Yes. There is such a possibility, but you see——"