Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1186: Dazzling

The situation at the scene was being relayed over the radios to the officers rushing in.

The chaos seemed to be getting worse.

Zhou Yusheng’s head felt heavy… he even felt a bit nauseous.

Sitting next to him was Gao Wen, captain of the second squad, who kept checking the incoming information. They were still about five minutes from the scene.

“Old Zhou, Old Zhou?”

“What?” Zhou Yusheng answered automatically.

Gao Wen frowned and looked him over. “You drank again last night?”

“I’m fine—sober now.” Zhou rubbed his face.

Gao Wen didn’t relax. “Get off at the next intersection. In your condition, you shouldn’t be part of the operation.”

His recent performance had been poor and lax—he might even fail the next quarterly review. If he didn’t take part in this operation, it would seriously affect his record.“Captain Gao, I really am okay.” Zhou Yusheng took a deep breath, forced himself upright, slapped his own cheeks, and forced a grin. “See? I’m alert now.”

Gao Wen opened his mouth to scold him, but a new radio message came through: the criminals had hijacked an armored truck, taken two hostages, and driven into the underground garage of a building under construction.

Gao Wen shouted to his driver, “Change route—block the other exit!”

The second squad’s convoy soon reached the C-section exit of the construction building’s garage. The B exit was being handled by squad one, which was in pursuit.

Armed, the team leapt out and used vehicles for cover while aiming at the C exit.

Gao Wen leaned on a car door and keyed into squad one’s channel. “Calling squad one—this is squad two at the C exit.”

“Received. This is squad one—Luo Qi here.”

Gao Wen asked, “What’s the situation inside?”

“Bad. These guys are desperate—two hostages: one armored truck guard and one construction security guard. We estimate eight suspects, heavy firepower… looks like they’re from Southeast Asia.”

Gao Wen’s expression hardened. “Received. Any other people inside?”

“The site stopped work these days—mostly empty. Situation isn’t great, but not full of civilians.”

The key issue: hostages.

Gao Wen and Luo Qi conferred briefly, left some men to hold position, then led a team deeper into the building.

“Huasheng, take two and go up the left stairwell… A-Tian, come with me. The rest, rendezvous with squad one.”

“Copy.”

“Remember: hostages first!”

Squad two split into three teams and infiltrated the garage.

—

Zhou Yusheng and two others formed a temporary unit to link up with squad one. Among the three, Zhou was the oldest and the most seasoned.

Because the building was still under construction, many facilities were incomplete—some areas were only skeletal frames—places not ideal for hiding people.

While moving, a wave of stomach acid rose; in the stairwell Zhou Yusheng couldn’t help but lean against the wall and vomit.

The two younger officers were stunned—Zhou was a veteran, once expected to be promoted years ago until Gao Wen was flown in and overshadowed him; since then Zhou had seemed listless, making small mistakes.

“I’m fine—don’t report it up.” After vomiting he wiped his mouth, lifted his head, and glared at the two youngsters like a wolf. “You didn’t see anything, you understand?”

They exchanged glances, hesitant, then nodded.

“Don’t be nervous. Stick with me and you’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

The two young officers frowned—this wasn’t the direction to rendezvous with squad one. One couldn’t help asking, “Brother Zhou… isn’t this the wrong way?”

“This is the way,” Zhou said, turning and switching off his earpiece. “Can you each fight ten men? Are you crack shots who never miss? We’re facing people who don’t care about dying. If they don’t care, I don’t want to die—so follow me.”

“Brother Zhou… are you sure?” the other officer hesitated. If word got out, the consequences wouldn’t just be a scolding.

Zhou snorted coldly. “Do you have parents? Siblings? What’s over there—machine guns, grenades, foreign-trained thugs. What are you going to use? Your fists or this little service pistol?”

“We’re police!” one of the youths snapped.

“So am I,” Zhou said calmly. “But I’m also someone’s husband, someone’s father. If I die, who will care for my family? If you die, who will care for yours? Charging ahead doesn’t mean heroism. Protect yourself. Want glory? If everyone captures them, the credit’s shared. If we fail, someone else will take the blame. But if you’re wounded or dead—who pities you?”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets erupted from an unknown direction—echoing through the empty stairwell like fireworks, deafening.

“You heard that?” Zhou tapped his ear and sneered. “Young people can dream—but don’t assume glory is guaranteed. What’s yours will be yours; what’s not, you can’t force. Only life matters.”

He reactivated his radio. “Calling—situation changed. Rendezvous disrupted!”

“Received—this is squad one, Captain Luo Qi. Be flexible. We’ve engaged several suspects. Take cover and look for an opportunity to free the hostages!”

“Copy.”

Zhou turned to the two stunned young officers. “You heard—find cover. I’ll take this side; if you choose the other, you’re going into a battlefield.”

He left without another word. The two hesitated, then gritted their teeth and followed. The reverberations made it hard to tell where the shots were coming from; they advanced cautiously.

“Here.”

Zhou opened a door that hadn’t been shut. Inside was a fairly large, unfinished space with several rooms. He ushered the men in, closed the door, leaned against the wall, and lit a cigarette.

After two draws he offered it to one of the younger officers whose face was pale and hands trembling. “Relax. The criminals will try to break out or keep moving upward. This middle area has many rooms—they probably won’t come here. When the gunfire dies down, we’ll go out.”

The nervous officer accepted and inhaled deeply, then passed the cigarette to his comrade.

They were young—only about half a year on the team and had never seen a major case. The scope of this case would have excited them, but Zhou’s words were cold water.

Reports over the comms kept coming: in this short time, four officers had been shot, one dead on the spot. They realized Zhou was right—this was a battlefield.

“Are we really… okay?”

Though they were temporarily safe, the gunfire hadn’t stopped; any second another officer could fall. The two younger men were tense and on edge.

Zhou Yusheng pressed himself against the wall, leaned slightly to peek outside, then came back. “It’s fine. Reinforcements are here… I even saw the snipers take position. Remember, don’t stand near the windows later, or they’ll think you’re slacking off.”

“Yeah…” One of the young officers let out a long breath, then said softly, “Thanks, Brother Zhou. The shootout between squad one and the suspects was terrifying. I didn’t realize how scared I was until now. If we’d charged in earlier, we’d probably be riddled with bullets by now.”

Emotions are contagious… and excuses make running away easier.

When Zhou Yusheng saw the look in their eyes, he knew he had just ruined two promising young men. But if their resolve had been truly strong, would they have been swayed by him in the first place?

Everyone’s the same… The ones still charging ahead just haven’t found a reason to back out yet.

Zhou Yusheng thought his life was already a pile of garbage—rotting, stinking, something you could smell from miles away. He was rotten to the core.

“Brother Zhou, have you ever handled a big case like this before?” one of the young officers suddenly asked.

Maybe it was nerves—he just wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension.

Zhou crouched down, lit a cigarette, and looked at them with a crooked grin. “You really wanna know?”

Both nodded.

He waved them closer. They crouched in front of him, heads lowered. Zhou Yusheng said quietly, “I’ll tell you when we make it out alive.”

Pfft—

The two young men laughed instinctively.

They didn’t even know why.

Maybe because, in the midst of gunfire echoing through this half-sealed space that oddly felt safe, they needed that small, nervous laugh to release the fear.

Zhou laughed too—a strained, twitching kind of laugh. He looked at their lowered heads and trembling shoulders, and for some reason, his expression suddenly turned cold.

Ah… yeah. Let it be like this. Just keep rotting.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

That’s life. That’s how people live—drifting day by day, just getting by. Those people live the longest. Really, there’s nothing wrong with that.

If only… that smile hadn’t frozen right then.

To Zhou Yusheng, everything happened too suddenly—too abruptly.

He didn’t even have time to react. It was as if all color drained from the world, turning everything into a black-and-white silent film.

A deafening gunshot exploded right beside his ear. His hearing vanished in an instant. The young man who had just been joking with him—his smile froze in place.

A bullet had pierced through the side of his head.

The moment he fell, that smile was still there, his eyes still locked on Zhou Yusheng… then he collapsed onto the floor.

It felt like sinking into a swamp. Zhou’s instinct made him turn—and what he saw was a strong body, a bloodstained, savage face, and a black AK.

“Run…!”

How did he get in?

Zhou didn’t understand. Everything slowed down inside his head, like the world had gone into slow motion.

The last remaining young officer was shouting—probably screaming at him—but Zhou could barely hear it. The voice was distant, warped, dragging.

The officer stood up bit by bit—still moving in slow motion. But the bullet moved fast. The vest didn’t protect his neck.

Maybe he wanted to run. Maybe he wanted to push Zhou out of the way. But instead, he fell toward him.

The weight of his body slammed into Zhou Yusheng, and suddenly, time sped up again. Everything returned to normal speed. Zhou jerked, drenched in cold sweat.

The young man slowly slid off him, collapsing at his feet. Zhou glanced down—his mind blank.

The gunman grinned wickedly and blew a whistle. That sound snapped something inside Zhou’s head. He suddenly remembered—he also had a weapon. He wanted to raise it.

But the gunman was faster. The black muzzle pressed against Zhou’s forehead, like a spear aimed right at him.

His heart was racing. The gunman’s movements slowed again—each breath, each motion, like frames in a film reel.

The dizziness hit hard. Maybe it was the leftover alcohol still in his system. Maybe it was something else.

The world spun. Zhou wavered, barely staying upright. Instinctively, he raised his hands, slowly.

“Coward.”

The gunman tilted his head, mocking.

Bang—!

Zhou flinched and shut his eyes tight. Everything went dark again. The gunshot echoed sharply in the empty room, rattling his ears.

He could hear a ringing sound.

And then—

“You okay?”

He opened his eyes slowly—and saw someone. Not the gunman, but a person standing in the light, dazzling and bright.

“Captain… Luo…”

(End of Chapter)