Chapter 117: Ferocity Unleashed!

Beneath the mask, the burly man’s eyes were cold and unforgiving. As he scanned the terrified faces around him, a sense of cruel satisfaction flickered in his gaze. A series of low, raspy chuckles slipped from his throat.

Maybe it was his laughter, but something made the people feel a momentary illusion of safety. One middle-aged man, sharply dressed with a center-parted hairstyle, gathered his courage to ask, “Um… Sir, are you guys shooting a movie?”

While the mask hid the burly man’s facial expressions, there was a fleeting pause in his demeanor. His soft chuckles soon escalated into roars of laughter, making him almost breathless. The assault rifle he was gripping swayed erratically, its muzzle pointing indiscriminately.

Anyone unlucky enough to find the gun aimed their way immediately sought cover. The middle-aged man, desperate to diffuse the tension, forced a laugh, even though he had no clue what was so amusing.

The laughter from the burly man stopped abruptly.

With a chilling voice, he remarked, “Shooting a film? Indeed. These guns are merely props. Want to test them out?”

Hoping to find a way out, the middle-aged man cautiously asked, “Sir, if it’s just a misunderstanding and you’re only filming, may we please leave?”

The burly man ominously aimed the rifle at the middle-aged man’s thigh. “Whether it’s a movie shoot or not, let’s try it and see.”

Terrified to his core, the middle-aged man waved his hands frantically. “No, no, no! Please, I misspoke! I was just rambling… Please…”

But before he could finish, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoed. A bullet pierced the man’s thigh, exiting with a burst of blood in its wake.

The man screamed, holding onto his wounded leg, tears and mucus staining his face, overwhelmed by both pain and terror.

“This doesn’t seem like a prop gun, does it? Seems real to me,” the burly man mocked, unfazed by the chaos he had just caused.

The area plunged into an oppressive silence, save for the cries of the wounded man.

“Silence!” The burly man’s voice boomed, focusing on the injured individual. “Scream again, and it’ll be your last.”

The middle-aged man stiffened, sealing his lips, but his body quivered uncontrollably from the pain.

With a satisfied nod, the burly man declared, “Ladies and gentlemen, from this moment, you are all my hostages. Whether you live or die is not in your hands, nor mine, but in those of the police outside.”

“If you wish to live, hope that the police meet our demands,” the burly man declared. “Now, bring that careless fool here. Tend to his wounds. If he dies, it’ll be troublesome for me.”

His words suggested concern, but his tone betrayed his indifference.

Two brave citizens assisted the injured middle-aged man, gently easing him into a chair and hastily dressing his wounds.

After issuing his cold orders, the burly man gestured to his gang, signaling them to herd the hostages.

“Move everyone into that store,” he barked, pointing to a nearby clothing outlet. “We’re less exposed there.”

The hostages, more frightened than ever, shuffled obediently into the store. The atmosphere turned even more stifling as the group was crammed into the smaller space. Display racks and mannequins bore mute witness to the unfolding drama, their inert faces a sharp contrast to the fearful looks on real human faces.

Casually brandishing his gun, the burly man settled into a nearby seat. Soon after, another man, face concealed and shorter in stature, approached from a different part of the mall. His appearance contrasted with the former, he was leaner and bloodstained.

“Boss, I’ve secured the mall’s exit,” he reported to the seated man. “There was an idiot who tried to run away. I dealt with him.”

“One less is inconsequential. We have numerous hostages. If one’s gone, so be it, ” the boss responded nonchalantly, toying with his gun. “Old Second, what’s the status of our crew?”

The man named ‘Old Second’ replied, “Old Fifth and Old Ninth are guarding the first floor, ensuring no one escapes. Old Seventh and Old Fourth are rounding up the rest of the hostages in the other store. The rest, unfortunately, were heavily injured by the police and died.”

Mentioning their comrades’ demise, Old Second’s countenance remained unchanged and indifferent.

Such ruthlessness depicted their audacity, completely apathetic even toward their own existence. In their worldview, taking a life or losing theirs was just another day’s work.

Pensively, the leader asked, “Have the police made a move?”

“They’re hesitant, deterred by our presence, and haven’t dared to enter,” Old Second noted.

Chuckling, the leader remarked, “Good. As long as we control the hostages, the police won’t act rashly. If they defy us, we all die together. We’ve got dozens of people to accompany us to the grave. It’s a win.”

With a sardonic grin, the leader added, “Alert Old Seventh and Old Fourth to stay vigilant. We don’t want snipers catching them off guard.”

“Roger that.” Second acknowledged, spinning to leave.

The hushed yet menacing exchange between the leader and Old Second didn’t escape the ears of the hostages. A palpable dread gripped the crowd, and stifled sobs echoed.

One man, voice quivering, beseeched, “Sir, we’re mere bystanders. Please, let us go.”

“Please, spare us, Big Brother!”

Yet, instead of mercy, they were answered with a hail of bullets.

The gang leader fired multiple shots into the ceiling, his eyes coldly sweeping the crowd below, filled with a murderous aura.

“Did I give you permission to speak? Shut up, all of you. If anyone continues to babble, remember, my bullets don’t discriminate.”

***

While the mall was under the robbers’ control, outside, dozens of police vehicles rapidly converged on the scene.

Hundreds of SWAT officers alighted from their vehicles, effectively encircling the mall. They blocked all entry and exit points, ensuring that escape for the robbers was virtually impossible.

From one of the police cars, a dark-skinned, imposing middle-aged man stepped out. Dressed in a police uniform, the glinting insignia of a police chief on his shoulder signaled his rank.

This man was none other than Li Zhengdao, the Police Chief of Jinghai City.

Li Zhengdao hadn’t anticipated that, under his leadership, Jinghai City would face such a significant robbery. It was a crime not witnessed here for decades.

These criminals hadn’t just stolen a fortune but had audaciously taken hostages in one of the busiest malls at the heart of Jinghai.

Li Zhengdao pondered the daunting task of explaining the situation to the citizens of Jinghai if harm came to any of the hostages.

This wasn’t just any incident; it had transpired in the city center. While the monetary loss was significant, the broader implications of this incident weighed heavily on him.

However, dwelling on it wouldn’t help. The immediate priority was the safety of the hostages.

With the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, Li Zhengdao quickly assessed the situation. On arrival, foregoing any pleasantries, he asked, “How many hostages are inside the mall? What’s our likelihood of safely extracting them?”

A police officer replied with a heavy tone, “Given the robbers chose the mall, many civilians and staff managed to escape when the incident started. But the mall was crowded. We estimate that there are over sixty hostages, including more than ten staff members and over fifty shoppers.”

“Over sixty?” Li Zhengdao’s surprise was evident, his brow furrowed in deep concern. “Are there any reports of injuries within?”

“We’re uncertain,” another officer chimed in. “We’ve avoided any rash intervention, fearing it might agitate the criminals, potentially leading to a dire outcome. So, we haven’t entered the mall.”

The officer added solemnly, “Currently, we’re in the dark about the precise situation inside. Chief Li, we await your directions on our next steps.”