Chapter 39: Now I'm Doomed

Whoosh—

A dark shadow darted over with sudden speed!

“Watch out!”

The crowd beside him cried out in alarm, trying to warn Camphor Ball.

But it was already too late.

Screech!

Wu Ya’s bicycle screeched to a halt, the tires biting into the ground. Gripping the handlebars tightly, he launched himself, bike and all, into the air.

Bang!

The bike spun midair in a wide arc and crashed down hard onto Camphor Ball’s head.

“Ah! That hurts like hell!” Camphor Ball fell flat onto the ground, clutching his head. Blood streamed from the torn scalp, the gruesome wound gaping and vivid.

“Catch him! Beat him within an inch of his life!” Squinty Eyes was not about to miss this opportunity.

This brief distraction erased any distance left between the two sides. All they needed was to seize the boy—then today’s score would be settled, and they’d have something to show for it to Boss Hua.

With a roar, eight men surged toward Wu Ya in a wild rush.

At that moment, Wu Ya’s bicycle had just hit the ground. He was still regaining his balance, unable to flee straight away. Yet as he looked at the mob lunging toward him, he remained utterly composed—unafraid, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He had no intention of running.

Not only that.

As the gang of thugs closed in, Wu Ya suddenly spoke in a calm, enigmatic voice, “Squinty Eyes, perhaps fate will have us meet again. Though I suspect you’ll never see me again in this life.”

His cryptic words sent a jolt through Squinty Eyes’ heart as he charged forward. A chill like a knife’s edge shot from the base of his spine to the top of his head.

“Hmph! Still playing tricks with your life on the line? Cut him down!” Squinty Eyes forced down his unease, his lips curling in a cold sneer. With that, he led the charge.

Eight of his men, their machetes gleaming, gripped the weapons tightly in their hands.

“You little bastard, die!” Camphor Ball, his head split and bleeding, swung his blade down at Wu Ya’s face, rage burning so fiercely in his chest that he wanted nothing more than to kill Wu Ya with a single blow.

But then—

“Stop! Bang!”

Just as the blade was about to bite into Wu Ya’s flesh, a thunderous shout erupted, full of authority and power. And in the next instant, a crisp gunshot split the evening sky.

Instantly, everyone froze.

Bodies locked in mid-charge, they stood like statues, unable to move.

What was happening? How had the police suddenly appeared?

Their minds reeled in confusion.

Armed assault. The crime was laid bare for all to see. That alone would get them at least five years behind bars—five years of hell, with no telling what would be left of them when, or if, they came out.

But even that was wishful thinking.

Five years? They would be lucky…

“Officers! Please help me! These men not only tried to rob me, they want to kill me to silence me!”

Robbery and murder to silence the victim!

Wu Ya’s shouts rang out as he waved a thick wad of cash in the air, instantly recasting the entire scene.

It was as if a bolt of lightning struck from above, splitting them to their very core.

Robbery and murder. Even if they weren’t executed on the spot, it would take a miracle for them to escape death.

Especially Squinty Eyes—he was the ringleader. The law was clear: the principal culprit must be punished.

“It’s over…”

Squinty Eyes’ machete clattered to the ground, his whole body deflating in despair. His face turned as pale as a corpse, the look of utter hopelessness plain for all to see.

Just as he himself had said… it was over.

Their crimes were undeniable, the evidence irrefutable. Their violence had even brought out warning shots from the police. Even if Boss Hua intervened, it would be impossible to save him from execution.

“Heh, Wu Ya, not bad! I didn’t come too late, did I? You’re something else—facing seven or eight of them and you didn’t even get a scratch!”

Suddenly, Huang Silu popped out from somewhere, a fawning grin on his face.

“What, were you hoping I’d get hacked to pieces? Damn it, why didn’t you bring the police sooner? Didn’t I tell you at noon?” Wu Ya shot back angrily.

When Aunt Chai warned Wu Ya to leave after hearing Squinty Eyes was coming, Wu Ya had only left for a short while to contact Huang Silu, telling him to call the police and wait for him in a secluded corner of the market. But when he arrived, no one was there. That was how the whole chase began—if he’d made one wrong move, he could have been stabbed. How could he possibly be pleased to see Huang Silu now?

“Well, you’re not hurt, are you? I just… got held up a little, that’s all. Just a little, don’t take it to heart,” Huang Silu stammered, his guilty smile betraying him. Clearly, he’d been up to no good just then—who knows where he’d wandered off to.

Wu Ya’s face darkened, about to say more.

“All of them—take them away and begin the interrogation immediately!” A police officer stepped forward, ordering Squinty Eyes and his men onto the police van. He then turned to Wu Ya: “You’ll need to come with us to give a statement.”

“No problem! Inspector Zhou, I also have an important tip-off for you!” Wu Ya replied eagerly.

The officer paused—did this kid actually know him?

“Heh, the Iron-faced Detective of Weiling City—every child knows your name, let alone me,” Wu Ya said with a smile, seeing the surprise on Inspector Zhou’s face.

At this time, Inspector Zhou was still relatively unknown. Only later, after he personally dismantled the Hua syndicate, would he earn the title Wu Ya now gave him. Though it was his duty, from Wu Ya’s perspective, Zhou had avenged a deep blood feud for him. So, out of gratitude, Wu Ya didn’t mind handing him an achievement a little early.

“Haha, for someone so young, you sure know how to talk! Come on, I’ll inform your parents to pick you up at the station,” Inspector Zhou replied with a smile, clearly not taking Wu Ya’s words seriously—subconsciously dismissing the so-called “important tip-off” as a child’s attempt to curry favor.

“No, please, Inspector Zhou! I’m old enough—if you tell my parents, you’ll only make them worry!” Wu Ya pleaded anxiously. If his parents learned that someone had tried to rob and kill him, they’d be so terrified they might not even let him keep the tailor shop open. That would be a disaster—the tree that grows too tall attracts the wind.

This wouldn’t do at all.

He’d orchestrated this entire plot so perfectly, only for things to end in disaster because it was just a little too perfect. Wouldn’t that be a joke?