“We’re on our way!” the tall officer said into the radio before flooring the gas pedal. The siren blared to life.
As he spun the wheel, he glanced at the passenger seat and shouted, “Are you geared up yet?!”
“Almost!” the stout officer fumbled frantically, answering at the same volume.
“Man, you really shouldn’t have eaten so many donuts!” the tall officer teased.
The stout officer was too busy wrestling with his bulletproof vest to bother responding to his partner.
Not long after turning a corner, a vehicle matching the description came speeding toward them, with two police cars chasing from behind.
The tall officer said in a low voice, “Here they come!”
Years of tacit understanding needed no explanation—the stout officer had already grabbed the handle above the passenger door.
At the same time, the police cars chasing the stolen vehicle accelerated and rammed into its rear.
The stolen car’s tires skidded, screeching loudly as they failed to grip the road. The vehicle gradually angled sideways.
The tall officer slammed the gas pedal and drove straight into the stolen car’s diagonal front!
He forced the vehicle hard into the intersection, where it crashed into a fire hydrant before finally stopping.
The pursuing police cars blocked off the stolen car’s escape routes, fanning out in formation.
The officers burst out of their vehicles, gripping their guns with both hands as they charged toward the stolen car.
Seeing this, the stout officer’s eyes widened and he shouted at them, “There’s still one in the back seat!”
The moment he finished speaking, a gunshot rang out.
The stout officer jolted and immediately lunged toward the driver’s seat.
The tall officer quickly dragged him out entirely, using the police car as cover, and began returning fire.
The outcome was decided quickly. They dragged the suspects out of the stolen car and cuffed them. When pulling out the one from the back, their movements were noticeably rougher—when the man screamed in pain, they unilaterally deemed it resistance and kicked him directly in the leg that had been shot.
The four officers rushed toward the stout officer.
Their faces were etched with worry and tension for him.
Seeing him lying on the ground clutching his waist, they couldn’t help but think the worst, and their hearts collectively sank.
The tall officer leaned against the car door, panting heavily, and raised a hand toward them. “He’s fine. I’m the one who’s hurt.”
He’d relied entirely on a surge of adrenaline when dragging people around, and only after it was all over did he realize his left arm was dislocated and immobile.
The four of them let out a collective sigh of relief and walked toward the two with smiles.
The tall officer gave the stout officer a kick, exasperated. “You really need to cut back on the donuts!”
Otherwise, in a life-or-death moment, he couldn’t even drag him—brother!
The stout officer raised a trembling hand and made an “OK” gesture.
The ambulance came wailing in. The injured suspect was tossed onto the ambulance, while the uninjured ones were shoved into police cars to be taken back to the station for questioning.
The stout officer and the tall officer also boarded the ambulance—they were injured too and needed to go to the hospital.
“Buddy.” The tall officer looked at where the stout officer was clutching, and belatedly recalled the Asian girl’s prediction. “You’re really lucky.”
“Yeah.” The stout officer lay on the stretcher bed. “Once I’m better, I need to go thank her.”
Without her warning, he would’ve been done for today.
The stout officer couldn’t help but touch the spot where the bullet had hit again. He shuddered.
It was exactly the same spot the girl had said he’d be shot!
“But you didn’t pay her, did you?” the tall officer said after a pause.
The stout officer shot up like a leaping carp, springing upright with an agility that completely defied his build. “I didn’t?!”
“Quick! Don’t head to the hospital yet!” The stout officer clutched his wound and slapped the driver’s cabin, ordering the driver to change course immediately.
Even if he had to crawl, he would crawl over to pay the money first!
That was a fortune teller! A medium!
On the other end, Blake was ransacking Ava’s room.
Cash, small jewelry, and other easily hidden valuables—he had already gathered them up in advance.
Then he packed the furniture into boxes, all while waiting for Nana to arrive.
…Right, he also needed to remember to stop at a gas station on the way to pick up some handy tools.
Or maybe find some here?
Blake straightened up, scanned Ava’s room, pulled a length of nylon rope from the cabinet, and grabbed two sharp knives from the kitchen.
He packed them in a separate cardboard box along with the tape.
No sooner had he finished than a knock came at the door.
“Honey, you’re finally here—” Blake’s beaming smile froze the moment he opened the door and saw who was outside.
Ava and Nana stood side by side at the entrance, with their respective friends and family behind them, all glaring at him with hostile faces.
Further back were unfamiliar faces Blake had never seen before.
There were so many people that the hallway couldn’t hold them all; they stretched down the stairs, still more people beyond the edge of his sight.
Those who hadn’t made it to the front row, standing on the landing below, craned their necks to get a look, curiously asking, “So he’s Blake?”
“…” Blake was sweating profusely.
He had never known Ava and Nana had so many! So many friends!
If he’d known, he never would have picked the two of them!
“Honey?” Ava stared at Blake with a fake smile, speaking in a soft voice, “Which honey are you calling?”
…No matter what, he had to bluff his way through this today!
Blake gazed at Ava with deep affection. “I’m calling you, of course. Oh, Nana, didn’t we agree to keep it a secret?” He shot Nana an annoyed look, ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and turned to Ava with an apologetic expression.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
He glanced at Nana again, trying to convey to everyone that “Nana ruined the surprise.”
Nana didn’t want to say a word, just crossed her arms and let out a cold laugh.
“Surprise?” Ava sneered at Blake too. “A surprise of emptying out my house while I’m gone?!”
By the end, Ava could no longer control her volume and screamed at Blake. She shoved him aside and charged into the room.
Blake tried to stop her, but Ava’s friends and family were right behind her.
They roughly shouldered past Blake and made it inside.
Though they’d already heard the gist from Ava and Nana on the way over, seeing it with their own eyes was still shocking.
They really had emptied the place?!
“Spread the word—not only did they empty it, they even packed it up.” A nosy onlooker leaning against the doorframe turned to the people behind him.
Word passed from one to another, and suddenly a shout came from downstairs, “What?! They even packed up the pickles?!”
“?!” Blake
What pickles! He hadn’t packed up the pickles!
…Those were his, placed in the kitchen on purpose, meant to snack on while packing!
Ava couldn’t believe her carefully decorated little home had turned into this. She shrieked and lunged at Blake. “You bitch! You didn’t even spare my wallpaper!”
“Ava! Let me explain!” Blake tried to back away but found his arms pinned from both sides.
He turned his head—it was Nana’s brother and Ava’s friend. “You two?!”
They grinned viciously at Blake. “Don’t mention it.”
With that, they shoved him toward Ava, leaving Blake unable to resist or escape.
“Whoa—” The onlookers clustered by the door gasped in excitement, eager for gossip, not forgetting to pass the word along. “Spread it around—Black hasn’t even handed out wallpaper.”
Word passed from one to another, and another gasp came from downstairs. “…What?! He even took the toilet paper?!”
Black whirled around furiously and shouted at the door, “What toilet paper! I didn’t take any toilet paper! There was barely any left in the bathroom!”
Chaos erupted on the scene. The cardboard box set aside was accidentally knocked over by someone, tumbling down.
Knives, nylon rope, duct tape, and the like spilled out with a clatter, scattering all over the floor.
Nana’s eyes flew wide open. She remembered what Zhao Zhenzhen had said: “You’re going to die.”
She’d been half-doubting it before, clinging to hope, thinking Black couldn’t be that heartless.
But now, seeing all this, what more was there to say?
“You rotten bastard!” Nana lunged at him too. The moment she thought of how she’d already “died” once at the medium’s place, a wave of terror washed over her, leaving her ice-cold and trembling.
Turning fear into fury, she joined Ava in beating Black with all her might.
But in the eyes of their respective families and friends, the girls’ attacks were far too soft and feeble.
Nana’s brother and Ava’s family exchanged glances, and once they saw eye to eye, they immediately took over on Black.
Black’s earlier screams had been somewhat theatrical.
Now, they were genuine.
He wept and wailed, begging for mercy, deeply regretting why he’d ever provoked Ava and Nana.
Those two had way too many friends… even the doorway was packed with people! Leaving him no chance to bolt for the door!
Every escape route was sealed! Completely sealed, wasn’t it?!
But… how on earth did they find out?
Black was utterly baffled.
Back to Zhao Zhenzhen’s side.
As the police car drove off, everyone stood with mouths agape, watching it go in stunned silence.
They watched the tires screech against the ground as the car sped away, leaving only a faint smell of rubber behind.
Only when the police car turned the corner and disappeared did they slowly turn their heads to look at Zhao Zhenzhen.
Still with mouths hanging open, utterly dumbfounded.
Predicting two people’s deaths in a row was one thing—but being that accurate?!
Should they get back in line? This time, not guessing ages, but just spending 10 dollars to have Zhao Zhenzhen do a divination?
…Wonder if lottery numbers could be divined.
Some were tempted and about to give it a try when they heard a dull thud of someone collapsing.
“Not good! Spock offended the fortune teller and passed out!”
Someone shouted.
Hearing this, everyone’s expressions toward Zhao Zhenzhen grew even more awed, and they hastily backed away a few steps.
Especially the stall owners who’d earlier jeered and mocked Zhao Zhenzhen—they were already sneakily packing up their things, guilt-ridden and ready to make a run for it.
“Zhao.” The stall owner who’d whispered with Spock earlier, feeling their bond had deepened, said to Zhao Zhenzhen with a pale face, “Just forgive him. Spock’s just got a sharp tongue. But he doesn’t have a bad heart.”
“?” Zhao Zhenzhen pointed at her own nose.
Wait—he fainted, what did that have to do with her?
Call an ambulance! That’d guarantee he woke up right away.