Chapter 115 - 115 113 A Small Get-Together

Words : 1937 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 115 of "National Forensic Doctor" starts here: 115: Chapter 113: A Small Get-Together 115: Chapter 113: A Small Get-Together Evening. A dirty Toyota... Discover what happens next!

115: Chapter 113: A Small Get-Together 115: Chapter 113: A Small Get-Together Evening. A dirty Toyota Land Cruiser drove from the direction of Mount Wulong, entered the county road, and then as if it were another ordinary day, it made its way into Jingye Town. The hunting group of five was not short of money. In recent years, they had even rented and bought several courtyards at the foot of Mount Wulong, stored many vehicles, and stashed basic supplies, doubling as warehouses. Every time they came down the mountain, no matter which courtyard they arrived at, the group could easily process their prey and then drive into the city. Although the police distributed in several surrounding towns and villages were aware of this information and had collected as much vehicle information of the group as possible, inquiring with the DMV about the relevant vehicles, they still couldn’t guarantee that they would encounter any vehicles from their list. This Toyota Land Cruiser was on the list, but it was only as it neared the Xinhong Grand Hotel that a criminal police officer stationed there noticed it and reported to Huang Qiangmin. Huang Qiangmin, who had been waiting for so long that his calves had slimmed down, scrambled up from his recliner. With a single hand swinging the walkie-talkie, he shouted, “All units, take your positions. This is not a drill, not a drill, target sighted, savage has arrived!” He looked like a frustrated director who, having finally seized the megaphone and spent a whole night with the third female lead, was about to begin shooting, weary yet excited and exuberant. Everyone rushed to their predetermined posts, and Huang Qiangmin hurriedly picked up his cellphone to report to Liu Jinghui. Only when his subordinates began to report that everything was normal did Huang Qiangmin realize how much his shin hurt from bumping into the corner of the table; he didn’t even have time to rub it and now limped toward the “command center.” It was the room on the 6th floor of the main hotel building with the best view. In a short time, the entire Xinhong Grand Hotel had escalated into a huge trap. The two backpackers who were checking in at the lobby were sent directly to their rooms and barricaded inside. Several passageways were locked without hesitation, and each was guarded by plainclothes police officers. The waiters selected by the boss were all assigned to the second floor and the bar next to the service desk, just to create a familiar atmosphere, in order not to alarm the old hunters with their sensitive noses. And the few employees beyond were all replaced by police officers. Especially the most important front desk, both staff members were police officers, who had also undergone several days of intensive training and could now easily handle check-ins and check-outs. Watching that dirty Toyota enter, Huang Qiangmin’s first impulse was to order an assault. But he knew that was just a stress reaction from his brain under tremendous pressure. To initiate an assault now would truly be a gamble. Everybody wanted a live capture, but what if they charged and the group fought back? Given their experience with killing, the likelihood of them not shooting was virtually nonexistent. “As long as we get past the lobby, everything afterward will be easy,” the instructor said reassuringly by his side. Huang Qiangmin nodded slightly; indeed, the lobby was the most dangerous step. He stood on a balcony shadowed from the light, looked for a few more seconds, and then turned back to look at the surveillance screens. With the operation of several technicians, at least three cameras were trained on the group’s movements. You could see that, within the hall, several people had stiffened movements in a short period. The waiters the boss had picked were obedient enough, but now they knew they were working for the police and panicked, fumblingly terrified, which couldn’t be helped. The same went for the police officer they placed on the second floor, whose neck was turning in an unnatural way. Huang Qiangmin’s hand gripped the walkie-talkie tightly, ready to order an assault at any moment. At this point, there was no use in complaining about “poor acting” or “lack of psychological quality”—it all came down to whether a fight would break out. Nonetheless, the group of five went through the registration as usual, looking relaxed. God knew how much time passed before the group got their room cards, picked up their luggage, and confidently found their way. From the walkie-talkie came a soft report: “They’re in.” Huang Qiangmin too let out a soft sigh of relief. The group’s room was surrounded by strategically placed assets to minimize the chances of friendly fire at this stage. Therefore, Huang Qiangmin was much more reassured. Yet there was still a need to wait. If possible, his greatest wish was to apprehend the five without any casualties. In the distance, several armed police soldiers silently climbed onto the roof, setting up sniper rifles and scopes. Jiang Yuan watched from below with several detectives and suddenly said, “That younger one on the western rooftop, I think I’ve seen him before.” “You remember him?” Wei Zhenguo asked Jiang Yuan. They were stationed at the hotel’s westernmost entrance, with Jingye Town at their back. This was the side farthest from Mount Wulong, supposedly the least likely direction for the group to escape. Huang Qiangmin had brought the majority of his criminal investigation squad over. Although he wanted to look after Jiang Yuan, he couldn’t just ignore such a strapping young man’s help, so he placed him and Wei Zhenguo at the West Gate. Overall, the west side was more relaxed than the east, and the mood of Mu Zhiyang and Wen Ming, who were also defending, was relatively stable. Jiang Yuan looked at the pitch-black gate and whispered, “A few days ago, during the capture of Chen Fan, it seemed like he was seen there. At that time, he looked a bit disappointed.” Wei Zhenguo couldn’t help but crack a smile, “Disappointed because he didn’t shoot?” “Possibly.” Mu Zhiyang chuckled twice, “The second-class merit that was within grasp slipped away. Snipers are the easiest to earn second-class merit.” “It shouldn’t be easy to hit the target,” Jiang Yuan said. “That’s when it’s time to test him. If he hits, it’s second-class merit; if he doesn’t and goes back, won’t his superiors chew out his eardrums?” Mu Zhiyang said, chatting with the others as if telling a story. They were far enough away not to be affected by their conversation, and it wasn’t time to act yet. The real issue was being too tense. For vile criminals like these, the criminal officers had seen and heard it all and wouldn’t feel scared unless... they were carrying guns. As the saying goes, bullets don’t have eyes and tend to hit the spine. If you go home paralyzed from the neck down, pride is out of the question. Wei Zhenguo’s hand was also on his holster, and he said softly, “If we encounter any suspects trying to escape later, it’s the same. Hit them and it’s second-class merit, miss and just be a three-year simpleton.” Wen Ming couldn’t help but pull out his issued pistol to look at it before saying, “Last year, I only fired 10 bullets. I hadn’t even gotten the feel of the gun before they took it back.” “Don’t worry,” Mu Zhiyang comforted him, saying, “Even if you hit with all 7 bullets in one go, the person might feel nothing and just run away. The small pipsqueak guns are no joke.” “Are you talking about me?” Wen Ming looked disdainfully at Mu Zhiyang, “You were issued with a Type 05, right?” Mu Zhiyang’s face fell immediately. Indeed, the Type 05 pipsqueak, compared to its predecessors, had taken things a notch too far. They say it couldn’t kill a dog. The specific story goes that on a freezing, dark morning, a SWAT officer fired 6 shots with a Type 05 revolver at an approaching mad dog, hitting with every shot. Yet the dog, seemingly oblivious, kept running past him unslowed. And looking at the data, the story seems quite credible. The Type 05 police revolver has a muzzle energy of 111.8j. What does that mean? Normally it takes about 80j to hurt a person, so with a bullet, you’d better not shoot from too far away. Also, preferably don’t shoot through denim, as it might just tear the clothes off. Besides, the Type 05 can also shoot riot control rounds, rubber bullets, with a muzzle energy of 16J. These bullets are quite comfortable to use regardless of distance, with a low chance of penetrating denim. Official data shows that from 50 meters away, there’s an 80% chance it can still shoot through a 0.1mm thick cowhide paper. So, next time someone says a 20j air gun is just a toy, you can mention the Type 05 police pistol. Even when loaded with rubber bullets, its muzzle energy is only 16j, and you’re talking about air guns with 20j – does that make sense? Of course, when used as clubs, both types of pipsqueak are pretty reliable. One weighs over a pound, the other two. Secure it with a lanyard, swing it in a circle, and the destructive force is astonishing. “Sigh.” Wen Ming and Mu Zhiyang sighed in unison. Wei Zhenguo also carried a pipsqueak but was used to it and was as calm as ever, saying, “Let’s total it up. Mu Zhiyang, your ‘Dog Ignored’ has 6 bullets, Wen Ming, your magazine holds 7, mine has 7, and Jiang Yuan has another 7. We fire all 27 at once, even a Tibetan mastiff would go down.” Jiang Yuan nodded in agreement, “Good thing it’s not winter. These guys won’t be wearing bear skin coats coming at us.” “It’d be no fun if they’re wearing bulletproof vests, just drag it out and call the sniper,” Wei Zhenguo said, half-joking, and muttered to himself, “I wonder how our colleagues in the Northeast handle their guns. The Type 05 probably can’t penetrate a thick cotton-padded jacket.” After a few moments of chatting and jesting, the mood among them relaxed somewhat. “As I just remembered,” Wei Zhenguo said, “you all loaded 7 rounds in your magazines, right?” The first generation of pipsqueak had a weak spring, and although they could hold 7 bullets, it was common to only load 5. Jiang Yuan pulled out his gun to check and nodded, “7 rounds.” “Good, if there’s actually a situation, no need for a warning shot, just shoot directly,” Wei Zhenguo said. Mu Zhiyang also added, “Actually, there’s no need to be so tense. If they didn’t even give us a 92 pistol, what does it tell you? It means our position isn’t dangerous, and if the suspects break through, they won’t choose our direction...” As he spoke, the walkie-talkie at his waist crackled, and Huang Qiangmin’s voice was strong and tense: “The leader has escaped, all units be alert, he’s running westward, West Gate be on guard! West Gate be on guard!” Everyone who was chatting suddenly felt their adrenaline surge, their foreheads heating up. In that moment, Jiang Yuan, holding the unfamiliar gun, felt his hands trembling. He forced himself to recall the bones from autopsies to calm down just a little. Damn!

Chapter 115 - 115 113 A Small Get-Together

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