Miss Forensics – Chapter 52.1

Despair

Lin Yan had just walked down to the first floor, and when she turned to look at the dark staircase, her usually sharp intuition sent a shiver down her spine.

On the surface, it seemed like those people were following Song Yuhang, but could it also be possible that they were following her?

A chilling sensation crawled up her spine, and Lin Yan quickly turned back to run. The mere dozen meters she had to cover felt incredibly long.

Every moment felt like a race against death.

As soon as her hand gripped the door frame, she heard a gunshot. Lin Yan kicked open the door, and two figures were locked in a struggle. One of them was slightly taller, holding a gun, and his hand had been raised by someone, causing two holes in the ceiling with dust and debris falling down.

Lin Yan brandished her dagger and pounced, aiming straight for the man in black’s throat. Another familiar figure firmly held onto the man in black, pushing him back to create an opportunity for Lin Yan.

Seeing that things were going south, the man in black, with his gun hand pinned down, had no choice but to use his left elbow to strike heavily at her back.

Song Yuhang’s vision went blurry as she bent over, and Lin Yan’s sharp blade was right in front of her. The man in black clenched his teeth and delivered a knee strike to Lin Yan’s abdomen. Song Yuhang lost her grip, getting thrown away, and Lin Yan’s knife was at her throat.

Before Lin Yan could recover her stance, she watched in horror as Song Yuhang was about to collide with the blade.

Meanwhile, as Song Yuhang retreated, she drew a handgun from her waist holster, fired twice, and sparks flew from the window frame. The man in black clutched his shoulder and tumbled out of the window.

She wanted to chase, but behind her came the sound of a metallic weapon hitting the ground. Song Yuhang hurriedly turned around and caught her as she swayed dangerously.

“Lin Yan?!”

Excruciating pain caused large beads of sweat to form on her forehead. Lin Yan’s face turned pale as she clutched her left hand, blood flowing freely.

In a critical moment, she had used her own hand to block a potentially fatal blow for Song Yuhang.

“I’m fine… it’s fine… hurry… hurry, go after them,” Lin Yan said, her hand covered in blood, gasping for breath.

“You…” Song Yuhang’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Go quickly!” Lin Yan growled, pushing her aside with a bloody, mangled hand and a hard shove. Song Yuhang stumbled back a couple of steps, colliding with a table.

With determination, she looked at her, bit her lip, and then leaped from the windowsill.

“Stop! Or I’ll shoot!” Song Yuhang emerged from a thicket of grass and trees, fired a shot into the air without hesitation.

The man in black ran haphazardly, leaving a trail of bloodstains along the way, until he reached the front gate and escaped.

Song Yuhang ran with the gun aimed at the man’s head, her palms sweaty as she tightly held the trigger.

After a while, she clenched her teeth, adjusted the sights, and aimed at his leg. She needed to capture him alive; a dead man was meaningless.

An unlicensed black car with its headlights on and blaring horns rushed toward them, its tires screeching on the gravel road. It executed a perfect drift and came to a halt at the entrance of the sanatorium.

The car door swung open, and the man in black got inside, with bullets striking the car’s body with a resounding thud.

In the brief delay, Song Yuhang covered three steps in two and launched herself at the car door.

A submachine gun emerged through the shattered car window, the black barrel pointed directly at her forehead.

Song Yuhang’s pupils constricted, and every hair on her body stood on end. Instinctively, she let go as the wind from the accelerating car hit her hard. A bullet grazed her scalp, and the smell of gunpowder mixed with the stench of singed hair rushed into her nostrils.

Her face grew hot, and blood was already trickling down, rendering her once noble features unrecognizable.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to muster every last ounce of strength to crawl into the car through the window. Her body dangled from the car door, and the wind turned her skin a deathly shade of pale, her long legs dragging on the ground, torn and bloodied.

Inside the car, the man in black leaned against the seat, clutching his bleeding shoulder wound, and muttered, “Damn it.”

He picked up his own gun from the seat and extended his head out of the window, using the gun butt to strike her hand.

They were approaching a sharp turn about to exit the small town, with a raging river beside it. The driver began to accelerate, the engine emitting an angry roar. A beautiful skid sent her into the air.

Song Yuhang crashed heavily onto the road, rolling several times before tumbling down a cliff.

Everything fell into silence.

After a while, a blood-soaked arm clawed its way onto the road. Song Yuhang gritted her teeth and exerted every ounce of strength to slowly drag herself up until she completed the arduous climb.

She lay on the icy gravel road, gasping for air, her vision becoming blurry.

* * *

The City Police Bureau.

Zhang Jinhai stood nervously in front of the large screen in the training room, holding his breath.

Three days ago, an informant, the bald man who ran the illicit workshop, had provided information. He said that this morning a buyer had arranged to meet him at the entrance of the Beidou Industrial Park to pick up a delivery.

The police force was on standby.

Unmanned drones hidden in the woods had already taken off. Surveillance cameras were set up in the guard booths, and heavy reinforcements were stationed around the perimeter.

This was the plan that had been devised before Song Yuhang left – a two-pronged approach, laying in wait for the target. It was time to cast the net.

Zhang Jinhai glanced at the watch; the appointed time had arrived.

The bald man’s car pulled up right on schedule at the entrance. It was an abandoned industrial park with no one to guard it.

He, along with plainclothes police officers, got out of the car, and they began unloading several barrels of acetone from the trunk, placing them one by one in the guard booth.

The surveillance cameras transmitted the scene in real-time.

Zhang Jinhai lifted the teacup, took a sip, and then picked up the walkie-talkie. “Instruct everyone to prepare and stay vigilant. Once the buyer appears, execute the arrest immediately.”

In his earpiece, he received clear and uniform responses of “Received.”

He set the teacup back down, feeling a hint of satisfaction. The plan was devised by Song Yuhang, but he was the one implementing it. With such heavy security in place, it should go off without a hitch. Reporting this to the provincial headquarters would be another significant accomplishment.

There was hope for a favorable year-end performance evaluation.

As he was feeling elated, the plainclothes officers on the scene reported back, “Report to 02, I have successfully completed the mission. I’m preparing to return. The suspect is expected to arrive in about ten minutes, and I’ll assist with the arrest from the outside.”

“Good, stay safe.”

The radio communication was cut off, and the scene returned to calm.

In no time, the unmanned drone captured footage of a car heading their way, and the alarm sounded.

Zhang Jinhai picked up the walkie-talkie again, “All units, be ready for the arrest.”

It was a black Santana, with its headlights on as it made a turn. The special police hidden in the jungle discreetly raised their firearms.

“Darn it, what kind of place is this?” The driver slapped the steering wheel twice, parked to the side, reached for a pack of cigarettes on the center console, and lit one before pushing open the car door.

Before he could reach the guard booth, he was tackled to the ground by a swarm of detectives. Cold handcuffs clicked around his wrists, and the muzzles of guns were aimed at his head.

“Don’t move, don’t move, police!”

The man had never experienced this kind of situation before. His knees went weak, and he wet his pants. “Police officers, what have I done? I… I just took money to pick up something for someone…”

Not far away, a man on a rooftop had witnessed it all through binoculars.

He quickly packed up and returned inside.

“We can’t stay in this place. We have to leave.”

The person in the wheelchair, concealed in a black robe, their face not visible, but their voice sounding somewhat younger, responded, “Do we need to hide again?”

The man set down his belongings and walked over to the wheelchair-bound individual, crouching down. “Yes, we can’t let the cops find us.”

“But…” the person beneath the black robe hesitated.

“Don’t worry.” The man even affectionately patted the person’s head.

“You’ll get better soon. I promise.”

* * *

The first thing Song Yuhang said upon waking up was, “Where’s Lin Yan?!”

People in the room exchanged glances but remained silent.

Song Yuhang propped herself up in bed, her head still throbbing. She reached to rub her temples but felt a bandage.

“What about Li Bin?”

Fang Xin’s face took on a hint of sadness. “He’s dead.”

Song Yuhang threw off the blanket, got out of bed, and removed the IV needle herself.

Inside the prison cell.

Lin Yan hung her head, motionless. Regardless of the questions directed at her, she neither reacted with the same fiery rebuttals as before nor spoke a word.

“Why did you go to find Li Bin?”

“Why did you break into his room in the middle of the night?”

“Have you committed acts of abuse against Li Bin?”

“Did you kill Li Bin?”

……

Lin Yan sat there quietly, not lifting her head or uttering a word. Her hair fell over her face, concealing it, and she had lost the vitality she once had. There was an air of impending decay about her.

A heart like ashes.

This was Song Yuhang’s first impression upon seeing her. Her chest suddenly felt both sour and bitter, tinged with a faint ache.