“Confirm the enemy sniper’s position.”

In the command room, accompanied by the soft hiss of static, the police sniper’s voice came through: “Target is within sniper range. Requesting permission to fire. Over.”

Tan Shiming said, “Permission to fire.”

“Received.”

What followed was a suffocating stretch of silence.

Zhou Jin felt her way toward the source of the gunshots.

After the new Haijin Port had been established, Jingang Wharf had rapidly fallen into decline. Obsolete shipping containers lay scattered and piled haphazardly across the grounds, providing her with excellent cover.

In the direction of the warehouse, sporadic gunfire rang out — most likely providing cover for the fallen Yao Weihai — but with the sniper position still uneliminated, no one dared to expose themselves recklessly again.

Then, at that very moment, another thunderous blast shook the air!

Zhou Jin thought she could hear the scream of something tearing through the sky directly overhead — and then, with a tremendous crash, a cascade of shattered glass rained down in all directions.

This shot had clearly come from the police’s own sniper, and the point struck had to be the location of the enemy sniper.

Had it landed?

If it hadn’t, with the sniper position now exposed, that person would certainly be relocating.

Zhou Jin tightened her grip on the gun in her hand, and looked up. Before her stood a tall, imposing control tower.

It was clearly long past its years of maintenance — the surroundings were dilapidated and desolate. Yet as a commanding high ground, it offered an extraordinarily wide field of fire, and below it a road led directly out, making for a convenient escape route.

Cross-referencing the direction of the police sniper’s shot, Zhou Jin was certain — that person was right here.

She slipped through the door as quietly as she could, and was just preparing to head up and assess the situation, when she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps striking the iron staircase overhead.

Zhou Jin pressed herself against the wall and ducked low, doing her best to stay out of the other person’s line of sight.

She held her breath. A dark figure came charging down the stairs, and in the split second that he turned — Zhou Jin raised her gun and shouted, “Don’t move! Police!”

The other party halted. He was facing the direction of the door, his back to Zhou Jin.

It was a man. He asked her, “A woman?”

He let out a light laugh — contempt and mockery barely concealed beneath it.

Zhou Jin said, “Raise your hands. Clasp them behind your head.”

The man complied quite obligingly, then asked, “Just you alone?”

Zhou Jin didn’t engage with him. She closed in cautiously.

Drawing nearer, in the faint traces of light, she made out a black cap on the man’s head and a sniper rifle slung across his back.

Zhou Jin pressed her gun against the back of his head and freed her other hand to reach for the handcuffs at her waist, intending to restrain him first.

The faint metallic clink of the cuffs sounded. The man’s ears twitched slightly — and in almost the same instant, he spun around with sudden force, seized Zhou Jin’s wrist with pinpoint accuracy, and wrenched it savagely!

In the darkness, came a faint crack of bone shifting out of place. Pain exploded through her in an instant. Zhou Jin’s fingers went slack and the gun slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground.

Before he could lock his grip fully on her arm, Zhou Jin twisted sideways and drove her foot hard into his stomach.

The man had no time to dodge and stumbled back several steps, hunching slightly, one hand clutching his aching abdomen.

The black brim of his cap lifted, revealing a pair of extremely dark eyes. Their cold, sharp gaze swept across Zhou Jin — his peripheral vision catching the gun where it had fallen not far from him.

In that razor-thin moment, Zhou Jin immediately read his intention and lunged forward, tackling him to the ground.

The man had already gotten hold of the gun. He raised the muzzle without a moment’s hesitation and pulled the trigger. Zhou Jin’s reflexes kicked in — she clamped down on his wrist —

Bang!

The shot went wide. The bullet passed within a hair’s breadth of Zhou Jin’s ear!

Zhou Jin gave him no chance at a second shot. She slammed his arm down against the ground, and the gun was knocked free again.

Before she could even exhale in relief, a glint of cold light flashed below — a dagger lunged straight at her shoulder.

Zhou Jin immediately rolled to the side. The sharp blade, deflected upward by the force of her dodge, sliced across her flesh through the body armor, carving open a wound three or four inches long.

Zhou Jin felt a blazing sting. Thick, hot blood began to seep through her fingers.

The man let out a cold laugh. He reversed his grip on the dagger, his movements fluid and powerful.

The damp sea wind surged in, howling past Zhou Jin’s ears. Her entire arm was going numb with cold.

At that moment, a sudden gunshot rang out in the darkness — a single round fired into the air.

Against the backlight, a tall, powerfully built figure appeared in the doorway, a wisp of pale smoke still curling from the gun muzzle.

“Don’t move.”

Zhou Jin heard the voice of the newcomer, and it struck her like a bolt from a clear sky. Her entire body seized up.

The figure continued, “I’m one of Seventh Uncle’s men. I’m here to extract you. The police have already traced this position — we can’t stay here. Move!”

There was no time to think it through. Qi Yan pocketed his dagger and bolted toward the door.

As he passed the newcomer, Qi Yan pulled his cap brim down low and said in a low, flat voice, “Kill her.”

The newcomer turned his head slightly and answered, “I’ll handle it.”

Watching the figure with the sniper rifle slung across his back vanish from sight, Zhou Jin took a step forward.

The man who had come for the extraction barely hesitated — he fired one shot at her feet as a warning. “I’d advise you not to move.”

The light in here was far too dim. He clearly hadn’t made out exactly who it was that had been tangled up with Qi Yan, and asked quietly, “Police?”

Zhou Jin said, “I’m a police officer. So then — who are you?”

“…”

She watched the backlit figure go completely still in that instant. Zhou Jin’s legs felt as though they had been filled with cement — heavy, leaden — and she moved forward, one step at a time.

The other party did not fire again.

She walked into a spot where faint light filtered down, and a pale, fine-featured face gradually came into clarity.

She didn’t dare take another step forward.

“Jiang Cheng.”

Zhou Jin pressed her hand against her shoulder. An overwhelming, all-consuming despair drained the last of her strength away. “Why didn’t you just shoot me?”

The pain stole the breath from her lungs. She leaned against the concrete pillar and slowly sank to the ground.

The door was pulled firmly shut.

Jiang Cheng came rushing toward her — almost at a run. Only when he was close did she notice that his eyes were completely red.

“Zhou Jin.” His voice was trembling. “Why are you here?”

Zhou Jin closed her eyes briefly and looked away from him.

Five years ago, she had seen Jiang Cheng with eyes like that. He had been shirtless, pressed down on his knees before her — those eyes of his, always so full of brilliance, completely bloodshot. He had been in utter disarray, every bit of him a mess.

Zhou Jin could no longer tell which part of her was hurting — the pain was bad enough to make her want to retch. She pressed her hand against her churning stomach.

Jiang Cheng ran his hand across her body armor and came away with a palmful of blood. He asked, “Tell me — where else does it hurt?”

Zhou Jin shoved his hand away with force, her voice low and taut: “Don’t touch me!”

“Keep your voice down!”

Jiang Cheng was clearly somewhat frantic, but the more frantic he became, the harder he pushed — both hands pressing firmly down on Zhou Jin, trying to see where she was injured.

He began to undo her body armor. At her chest, something caught the faint light and glinted.

Smack!

A sharp slap landed squarely across Jiang Cheng’s face.

Zhou Jin was biting down so hard she nearly drew blood. She looked at him with eyes full of loathing, and said, word by word: “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

“…”

Their gazes locked. In the dead silence of the air, even her labored, painful breathing was audible.

What stopped Jiang Cheng cold was not the slap — it was the diamond ring hanging on the chain around her neck.

As if something inside him finally gave way, Jiang Cheng suddenly let out a laugh. It caught in his throat and turned into several strangled coughs. He pressed the back of his hand against his brow, concealing how thoroughly undone he was.

“God damn it.”

Jiang Cheng cursed with barely any energy left behind it. The absurdity of everything that had happened was nearly enough to drive him mad.

He reached out and pulled Zhou Jin into his arms — a grip so fierce it was as though he meant to press her into his very bones.

He had to hold her. He had to.

Jiang Cheng’s arms trembled faintly with how tightly they were locked around her. His voice dropped low as he asked, “How — how is this fair? How is any of this fair?”