Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1627
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
East Capital Center, the pedestrian street in the commercial district.
Neon signs flicker alternately, casting multicolored halos on the smooth asphalt road.
The traffic lights at the intersection change, and groups of pedestrians carrying shopping bags cross the zebra crossing.
Streetside shops blast loud pop music, with long queues outside the milk tea shop.
The weekend street is a bustling sea of people, and the heat wave hits directly.
The massive LCD screen above the intersection was originally broadcasting a perfume ad featuring a popular female star.
Suddenly, the picture stutters.
With a burst of short static, the perfume ad vanishes, replaced by the news studio of East Capital TV Station.
Before the pedestrians on the street can react, the live broadcast shifts again.
A man wearing a dark casual suit and gold-rimmed glasses appears in the center of the screen.
He adjusts his collar, a smile hanging at the corner of his mouth, and says to the camera:
“Good evening, citizens of East Capital, and friends watching the screen.”
“I apologize for disturbing you at this time, in this manner.”
His gentle voice broadcasts through the surrounding stereo speakers, overpowering the noisy music and chatter of the pedestrian street.
People on the street stop, look up, and stare at the giant screen in mid-air.
“Let me introduce to everyone, this is West Mountain Golden City Resort.”
“The recording site of the National Singing Newcomer Competition.”
The man steps slightly to his left, and the camera pans out.
On screen, dozens of staff wearing badges and young men and women in performance outfits are crouching on the ground, heads in hands.
Some are sobbing quietly, some are trembling all over, with their eyes revealing an unmistakable terror.
The camera then pans down, giving a few seconds close-up of a fat man lying in a pool of blood.
The wound on his thigh is oozing fresh blood, and his body twitches every now and then.
Apparently, he offended the hostage-takers and took a bullet.
Meanwhile, several black gun barrels equipped with silencers skim across the edge of the frame.
Half a minute later, the man’s face reappears directly in front of the camera.
He adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose, speaking casually as if ordering in a restaurant:
“Don’t be nervous, this is just a simple transaction.”
“We’ve planted about a hundred kilograms of C4 explosives at the load-bearing columns and key locations in the building.”
“As long as East City Group and the police prepare fifty million in unmarked old bills to the specified location within two hours, I guarantee that everyone here will go home safely.”
“But if someone tries to be clever…”
He spreads his hands, waves politely to the camera:
“Then we’ll just have to treat everyone to a splendid fireworks show.”
“See you later, friends.”
As his words fall, the screen cuts instantly.
The male and female hosts of East Capital TV Station reappear on the screen, beginning to report breaking news.
The male anchor looks solemn, speaking rapidly:
“We’ve just received an emergency message that a major armed hostage situation occurred at West Mountain Golden City Resort at around 6:30 tonight.”
“Several television staff and contestants are being held by the hostage-takers inside the building. Aside from one injured, there are no other casualties reported.”
The female anchor then adds:
“The police have now fully blocked roads leading to the resort. Citizens are advised to stay away from the area, and we will continue to update you with the latest on-site information…”
An uproar erupts at the intersection.
Pedestrians stare wide-eyed, whispering to each other, their discussions bubbling like boiling water.
………………
Jiangbei Police Station, Criminal Investigation Unit office area.
The overhead incandescent lights are glaringly bright, and phones in various offices ring incessantly.
Police officers either look at computers, typing away, or reach out to berate suspects, conducting interrogations.
The printer in the corner hums, spitting out sheets of ink-smelling A4 paper.
Zhou Yongnian sits in a leather chair in his private office, with a freshly made bowl of pickled mustard noodles before him.
He tears open a sausage, bites the casing with his teeth to open it, then tosses most of the sausage into the soup just poured with boiling water.
The rising steam slightly smooths the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Lately, to track down a cross-province gang, he and his team have pulled three consecutive all-nighters.
He hasn’t been home for days, and his wife has complained several times over the phone.
Even when his daughter Xiumei successfully made it to the top twenty in the national singing contest, he couldn’t spare time to go and cheer her on.
Zhou Yongnian picks up a tangle of noodles with a plastic fork, stirring them in the soup.
He feels somewhat guilty inside.
His daughter was weak and sickly since childhood, and following him, a roughneck, she endured many hardships.
Now, she finally has succeeded, standing on a glittering stage, becoming a household name.
Thinking of the neighbors’ envious congratulations, he, as a father, feels genuinely gratified.
To be honest, it all thanks to Fang Cheng.
Zhou Yongnian’s mind conjures up the young, handsome face.
Steady in actions, outstanding skills, and childhood playmates with Xiumei, making him the ideal candidate for a son-in-law.
He lifts the corner of his mouth, shaking his head with a smile.
Then he leans down to the bowl, slurping in a mouthful of aromatic noodle soup.
Bam!
The office door is flung open.
“Boss, something terrible has happened!”
His subordinate Zhong rushes in, forehead covered in sweat, forgetting even to knock.
Zhou Yongnian frowns, swallows the noodles in his mouth, slapping the fork down onto the table:
