Chapter 27: Attracting Either Criminals or Police

Chapter 27: Attracting Either Criminals or Police

In the cramped space, the atmosphere shifted in an instant.

The driver’s manic expression froze on his face, his pupils dilating abruptly as the muscles in his cheeks twitched violently.

His cloudy eyes shifted slightly, glancing toward Jian Ruochen, who remained seated calmly.

The taxi had stopped between two streetlights, their dim, yellowish glow casting scattered patches of light on the biracial young man’s left profile, creating an elusive and eerie atmosphere.

Jian Ruochen lifted his lips in a slight smile and said softly, “The detective is asking you a question. Why aren’t you answering?”

Cowering under the barrel of Guan Yingjun’s service weapon, the driver suddenly shivered.

Even with a lethal weapon pressed against his forehead, he found the seemingly harmless Jian Ruochen far more terrifying.

It was a fear that struck straight at the heart.

Now, the hunter had become the hunted.

The driver gritted his teeth. “You were deliberately provoking me, trying to get me to talk?”

Jian Ruochen shrugged. “Just talking.”

The driver slowly lowered his eyelids, the anger draining from him like a receding tide, leaving only regret.

He shouldn’t have gotten carried away, shouldn’t have been so arrogant and careless.

Whether men or women, the more beautiful they were, the better they were at deception.

But it was too late for regrets now.

He had to find a way to escape!

Guan Yingjun shoved the barrel of his service weapon harder against the driver’s forehead, pushing him back slightly. “Is my question too difficult to answer?”

Jian Ruochen said, “One at a time. First question—how did you know I was at Chen Hetang Grand Hotel?”

The driver hunched over, his eyes bloodshot. “Someone wants you dead. They paid me to take you out, so of course they made sure I knew your whereabouts.”

Jian Ruochen frowned. “Someone? Who?”

“That’s for you to figure out,” the driver sneered. “In this business, we don’t meet face-to-face.”

The cramped interior of the taxi, once his perfect crime scene, had now become a trap he built himself.

If only he could get out of the car.

The driver glanced at Guan Yingjun’s hand holding the service weapon.

If he could just get out, he might have a chance to seize the service weapon, take Jian Ruochen hostage, and find a way out of this.

Jian Ruochen’s eyes swept over the driver, immediately understanding. “You want to get out of the car?”

The driver was stunned.

How could he?

How did Jian Ruochen know what he was thinking?

He gulped, uncertain whether to nod or not.

Jian Ruochen said, “Good. I want out too.”

The space inside the car was too tight. Shooting would be a last resort—a high-velocity bullet could ricochet and hit someone by accident.

Besides, the smell in the car was awful.

As time passed, the perfume had worn off, replaced by a smell like rotten eggs, decaying meat, and salted fish left to ferment in a ditch for three days. It was nauseating.

Jian Ruochen said, “Keep both hands visible, and slowly unlock the central control. I’d advise you not to try any tricks while getting out.”

The driver dismissed the warning, carefully unlocking the central control.

The doors clicked open, and a sudden hope surged through him.

Now, all he needed was a chance to seize the service weapon and grab Jian Ruochen!

Guan Yingjun opened the door beside him and stepped out, his service weapon never straying from the driver’s head.

Jian Ruochen followed closely behind.

The driver ducked his head, hunched over as he stepped out. The moment his feet touched the ground, he suddenly drove forward with his legs, lunging outward.

He threw his arms out, intending to use his bulk and speed to knock Guan Yingjun over, seize his service weapon, and quickly spin to capture Jian Ruochen.

Jian Ruochen: …

Some fools can't be helped, no matter how kindly you warn them.

Compassion is wasted on those determined to destroy themselves.

He’d told him not to try any tricks, but the driver just wouldn’t listen.

During the ferry heist, Guan Yingjun had dislocated Jiang Mingshan’s joint with a single kick. If he used that kind of force here, wouldn’t he pulp the driver?

Would Team A get pay deducted for assaulting a suspect?

They might even have to answer to Superintendent Lin…

Team A had already gotten enough attention lately for solving so many cases.

Detective Guan was the youngest Senior Inspector in the West Kowloon Region Police Station—plenty of people were jealous.

The precinct was a battlefield. They couldn’t just keep buying the Major Crimes Unit coffee and afternoon tea every time, right?

Even with money, that wasn’t the way to spend it.

Jian Ruochen’s thoughts flashed. He extended his leg, catching the driver mid-lunge.

Detective Guan, that's all I can do for you.

Now all that’s left is to handcuff the suspect and begin questioning.

The driver never expected someone who appeared so weak to take action. Completely surprised, he stumbled, losing both balance and direction.

Guan Yingjun immediately pivoted and delivered a flying kick, landing a brutal kick to his stomach.

The driver gagged and retched, slamming against the wall beside the sidewalk from the momentum.

Just as he caught his breath, before he could regain his bearings,

Guan Yingjun reversed his grip and struck him with the butt of his gun,

sending a tooth flying.

Jian Ruochen glanced at the bloodied tooth root.

Hmm... just one tooth.

A minor injury, acceptable.

He crouched down in front of the driver. "See, I told you not to entertain crooked ideas."

Jian Ruochen got straight to the point: "There's a body in the car, and you just admitted to killing five people yourself. I recorded every word of it. You have no way out left now. I suggest you tell the truth—it’s in your best interest."

The driver coughed up a mouthful of bloody foam.

The game was up.

Wheezing hoarsely, the driver laughed bitterly. "I underestimated you."

After a moment of silence, he suddenly broke into a crazed, deranged giggling fit. "They deserved it."

"Cheaters deserve to die."

"Two-timers deserve to die."

"Arguing with a boyfriend? Deserves to die!"

"Asking different men for money? Deserves to die!!!"

"You—ungrateful," the driver shrieked. "You deserve to die too."

Jian Ruochen stared coldly at him. "He’s not my father."

Guan Yingjun with a sidelong glance, his fingers toggling the gun’s safety catch back and forth.

"You didn’t see the person who gave you the money, so who was it that gave you the rumors?"

The moment Guan Yingjun released the safety, Jian Ruochen grabbed his wrist and raised it, using him as a gun rest aimed directly at the driver.

Guan Yingjun allowed it without a word.

"There wasn’t anyone specific," the driver chuckled.

"I just happened to hear the rumors about your promiscuity at a bar and thought you deserved to die. Then, by chance, I found a bag of money at my doorstep with a note inside telling me to kill you. I took the money to buy something near Chen Hetang, and just happened to see you and your lover entering Chen Hetang. Having fun with so many people, huh?"

The driver’s lecherous gaze swept over Jian Ruochen.

Guan Yingjun immediately raised his hand and struck him hard with the gun butt again. "Speak properly."

The driver coughed twice, licking his loose tooth before spitting out a blood-streaked sputum, his eyes fixed on Jian Ruochen. "Like I said, I didn’t originally want to kill you."

How could there be so many true coincidences in the world?

When everything is a coincidence, it’s definitely not a coincidence.

Was this driver handpicked by the one who hired him? Did they know what kind of person the driver wanted to kill and intentionally let him hear the rumors?

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze. "You’ve heard a lot of rumors about me. Where did they come from?"

"The bar," the driver said, his eyes glazed over.

Jian Ruochen sensed something was off—the driver seemed disoriented, almost delirious.

Tilting his head, the driver struggled to recall. "Last month, I heard there were more fares around the bars late at night, so I drove to the back alley of Western Kowloon bar street. I overheard those things near the back door of the bar closest to the alley entrance."

He raised his hands, clawing at his neck with his fingernails, his face pale and his eyes unfocused. "That bar was called 1892, I think."

The driver kept a long nail on his pinky finger, and as he scratched his neck, he left red marks—a disturbing, frenzied act. "Give me... just one fix."

He curled up in the corner, knees on the ground, eyes vacant, devoid of any dignity. "Please, I’m begging you, just one shot. I’ll tell you everything, I’ll spill everything. I really don’t know who he was."

Guan Yingjun’s expression shifted.

He seized the driver by the throat, forcing his head up, first examining his face before quickly scanning his neck. In a low voice, he said, "He’s been 'skylighting'."

Injecting drugs into the neck—commonly known as "skylighting".

Once someone reaches this point, not even a miracle can save them.

The driver grabbed at Guan Yingjun’s wrist, seemingly forgetting he’d just been beaten. "I have money in my car, I have cash... score me a hit, help me get a needle, please."

Jian Ruochen realized it was the payment from the hired killing.

Guan Yingjun pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over. "Go locate the dirty money. I’ll keep an eye on him and call it in."

"Okay." Jian Ruochen wrapped the handkerchief around his hand, bent into the driver’s seat, held his breath, and used the streetlight to look inside.

The driver’s seat was stained with greasy grime, and under it was a tote bag with handles.

Using the handkerchief to grip the handle, he pulled the bag out, unzipped it, and looked inside.

It was full of cash—British pounds.

Why pounds?

In the 1990s, pounds weren’t uncommon in Hong Kong, but their sudden appearance here immediately raised alarms.

Jian Ruochen’s lungs weren’t strong and he couldn’t hold his breath for long. Soon, he emerged from the car red-faced, gasping for air.

Guan Yingjun, having just finished his call, saw this and felt a pang of concern. "Did you see the body?"

He didn’t want his consultant to be spooked.

"No," Jian Ruochen breathed heavily. "It stank in there. I was holding my breath."

Guan Yingjun: ...

He’s out of breath after just a few seconds?

"There is money—pounds," Jian Ruochen estimated. "Roughly nearly a million."

Guan Yingjun asked softly, "Any idea who’s coming for you?"

"Jiang Hanyu? Jiang Mingshan said he wanted to leave the inheritance to me, so he's desperate?"

Jian Ruochen frowned in thought for a moment, "Not necessarily. The timeline doesn't add up. The driver heard the rumor last month. If the rumor was also part of the killer's plan, then Jiang Mingshan hadn't been imprisoned at that time, and Jiang Hanyu lacked sufficient motive."

Then who could it be?

Could it be Lu Qian?

But last month, Lu Qian also had no motive to do this.

Or perhaps this time it wasn't either of them?

The person behind this is too cautious. It seems we'll have to go to the bar to investigate a bit.

Lost in thought, the sound of police sirens echoed through the night.

This place wasn't far from the West Kowloon Regional Police Station, and the Major Crimes Unit members arrived quickly.

Guan Yingjun holstered his gun and glanced over, "Why is it you?"

Team C leader Chen Jincai grinned slyly, "Madam Lin sent me over, of course."

Chen Jincai wore mid-calf black combat boots, with his tactical pants tucked into his boots.

He strode over to Jian Ruochen in a few steps and said, "Consultant Jian, you're amazing! Taking a break and having a meal, yet you still manage to solve a case?"

Jian Ruochen shook his hand and said helplessly, "It's not that I went looking for the case—the case found me."

Hong Kong is really too unsafe.

Chen Jincai turned to his team and said, "Search the car."

Then he turned back with a grin, "If the case found you, doesn't that mean credit found you? Your luck is just too good, and you're so clever. Would you consider working with me?"

He patted his chest, "I'm also a former member of the Criminal Intelligence Bureau, Guan Yingjun’s senior. I went undercover in a domestic financial crime ring for two years and busted a large human trafficking organization. I'm also a Senior Inspector, with the same salary as Detective Guan. I can give you half my bonus too."

Chen Jincai pretended to lower his voice but spoke loudly, "And I have a good temper—I'd never give you attitude."

Guan Yingjun couldn't take it anymore. As if he would dare to give Jian Ruochen attitude.

"This guy is a serial killer and a drug addict. This case is one I'm handing off to you. If my team members weren't on leave, it wouldn't be your turn."

Chen Jincai glanced at Guan Yingjun's expression and smirked playfully, "I'll have to put in overtime on this case too. When it's closed, I'll split the bonus with Team A, and I'll give half of my own bonus to our Consultant Jian."

"He's the Little God of Wealth, after all. It's not fair if only you get to pay tribute and I don't, right?"

"Even the Guan Gong statue in the Major Crimes Unit hall is honored by all 10 squads together. Detective Guan, don't be so stingy."

In the middle of winter, Jian Ruochen was pinned between two tall, former undercover agents, breaking a sweat. "Sir Chen, I'm not exactly hurting for money."

Guan Yingjun's lips curled into a slight smile.

Jian Ruochen took a breath and added, "But Team A is a bit short. You can just split it with Team A."

Guan Yingjun's smile vanished, and Chen Jincai burst out laughing, "You're really something."

He's practically the mascot of the police force, a good-luck charm for closing cases.

Smart and capable. Just by standing there, suspects flock to him, and cases practically solve themselves.

He's also interesting to talk to and work with—just a few words from him can cheer you up.

And he didn't even show favoritism toward Guan Yingjun just because he knew him first. Instead, he balanced things perfectly, playing fair with both.

Chen Jincai patted Guan Yingjun's shoulder, "I'm even more tempted now, Detective Guan. Cut me some slack."

Guan Yingjun brushed his hand off, "It's too late. I'm taking him home."

He issued orders coldly, paying no mind to seniority, "Jian Ruochen already got the key info. You'd better wrap this up tonight."

Chen Jincai clicked his tongue, "My team isn't useless. We're all part of the Major Crimes Unit—no one's inferior to anyone else."

He pulled out his car keys and twirled them around his finger, "Consultant Jian, want to ride in my car? I'll take you home."

Jian Ruochen: ...

Why is Sir Chen coming on so strong?

His enthusiasm feels a bit sudden, almost creepy.

Guan Yingjun moved in a flash, snatched the keys from Chen Jincai's fingers, "I live with him. I'm headed that way."

Jian Ruochen is young but incredibly capable—either attracting criminals or cops fighting over him.

It's not safe. He needs to be kept an eye on.

Guan Yingjun sobered up completely now. He grabbed Jian Ruochen's shoulder and said to Chen Jincai, "That suspect took money to harm someone. Someone is targeting Jian Ruochen. I'm going to check out the bar where he heard the information. Let us borrow your car for now."

Hearing the seriousness of the matter, Chen Jincai stopped joking and said solemnly, "Alright."

Jian Ruochen smiled at Chen Jincai, "Thank you, Chen s—"

Before he could finish saying "sir," Guan Yingjun spun him around.

Guan Yingjun quickly ushered him into the car and turned back to Chen Jincai, "Brother Chen, I'm giving you the credit. You'll have to take responsibility for both the credit and the blame."

Chen Jincai was taken aback. The last time Guan Yingjun called him "brother" was back in police academy when they got into trouble and Guan Yingjun made him take the fall alone.

What did he mean this time?

He understood the credit part, but where would the blame come from?

Before Chen Jincai could ask, Guan Yingjun closed the car door and drove off in one smooth motion.

Kicking up dust as they sped off.

The strong G-force pushed Jian Ruochen back into his seat. After a stunned second, he exclaimed, "Stop the car, stop the car! I haven't given him the recorder yet!"