18: Chapter 18: The Police Counterattack, Xie Qingshang Takes Over

Jianghai City Police Headquarters, Command Center.

The air seemed to have solidified into concrete, heavy enough to make it hard to breathe.

On the large screen, although the wuling hongguang that leaped over the trash heap had already vanished into the darkness, that far-from-graceful parabola felt like a loud slap across the face of every officer present.

Crash—

Zhao Shanhe swept the documents off the table in one motion; a water glass rolled to the floor and shattered into pieces.

No one dared to speak. The entire command hall was dead silent, save for the crackle of electricity and Zhao Shanhe's heavy, ragged breathing.

"Hundreds of people... hundreds of fully armed SWAT officers! Plus drones! Armored vehicles!"

Zhao Shanhe leaned his hands on the table, his eyes bloodshot as if he wanted to swallow the desk whole. "And we were shown up by a wuling hongguang? Played by an actor?"

SWAT Captain Xiahou Dun stood to the side, head bowed, his usually imposing face now as dark as the bottom of a pot. He wanted to retort that it was a "God-tier modified car," but the words died in his throat. A loss was a loss; excuses would only make him look more incompetent.

"Director Zhao, conventional methods... might truly be ineffective against him."

In the corner, the long-silent Technical Section Chief spoke up, bracing himself. "His counter-reconnaissance awareness, hacking skills, driving level, and even his psychological maneuvering capabilities completely exceed our database models. This isn't a common criminal at all; this is..."

"Is what? Superman? Batman?" Zhao Shanhe roared back.

"No."

A cold, calm, and even somewhat metallic voice suddenly drifted in from the doorway.

"He is an artist of chaos."

Everyone whipped their heads around.

A man stood at the door. Around thirty years old, he wore a well-tailored gray suit with a pair of rimless glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He held a snow-white silk handkerchief, slowly and methodically wiping fingers that were already free of dust.

Upon seeing this person, the fury in Zhao Shanhe's eyes instantly halved, replaced by a light called 'hope'.

"Old Xie? You're finally here!"

The newcomer was indeed Xie Qingshang. A specially appointed criminal investigation consultant for the Provincial Department and a Doctor of Criminal Psychology, he had assisted in solving dozens of serial murder cases and was hailed as a "Walking Human Polygraph."

Xie Qingshang didn't waste time on pleasantries. He walked straight to the whiteboard covered in photos of Qin Feng and various clues.

Currently, the whiteboard was a mess of intricate red lines connecting the bank, the sewers, the abandoned factory, and that wuling hongguang.

Xie Qingshang narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing through his lenses like a scalpel, dissecting every detail on the wall.

"I've watched the livestream replays and read your after-action reports."

Xie Qingshang extended a slender finger and lightly tapped a photo of Qin Feng directing the hostages in calisthenics in the bank lobby.

"Everyone is focused on his skills—marksmanship, driving, hacking. But in my view, those are merely the surface."

He turned around to face the room full of tense police officers, his lips curling into a faint smile that seemed to see through everything.

"You are trying to catch him using the logic of catching a criminal, and that is why you lost."

"Because in his eyes, this isn't a crime at all, nor is it even an escape."

Zhao Shanhe frowned. "Then what is it?"

"It's a game." Xie Qingshang's voice suddenly dropped. "Or rather, it's a grand, disordered performance art piece designed to mock the rules."

"Look at what he did in the bank—using wanted criminals as meat shields and making hostages do radio gymnastics. Look at what he did on the road—drifting a wuling hongguang and leaping over a trash heap."

Xie Qingshang adjusted his glasses, a cold light flashing off the lenses.

"A normal criminal seeks a 'way out,' emphasizing efficiency and concealment. But he is different. He pursues 'dramatic flair.' In every step, he is creating contrast, creating chaos, and creating surprises that leave everyone in awe."

"High intelligence, antisocial personality, histrionic personality disorder, and..."

Xie Qingshang paused, his tone unexpectedly carrying a hint of rare gravity.

"Top-tier military prowess."

"This man has no logic. Because chaos is his logic."

A collective gasp echoed through the command hall.

Xiahou Dun's scalp felt numb as he listened. "Consultant Xie, are you saying... he's a madman?"

"Not just a madman, but a madman with his finger on a nuclear button." Xie Qingshang turned and picked up a red marker, drawing a circle on the map.

"Since he is performing, since he is enjoying the thrill of the spotlight, then his next stop will certainly not be some dark corner."

Xie Qingshang's hand tapped heavily on the red dot in the center of the map.

"He will go to the most conspicuous, highest place where the entire city can see him."

Everyone's eyes followed the tip of his pen.

It was a building that soared into the clouds—the Jianghai City TV Tower.

"The TV Tower?" Zhao Shanhe was stunned. "What's he going there for? That's a dead end; once you're up, there's no coming down!"

"You still don't understand him." Xie Qingshang shook his head, his gaze deep. "For a Joker who wants to judge the world, that isn't a dead end; it's his throne."

"He wants to complete the curtain call of his performance at the city's highest point, under all the spotlights."

*Hiss—*

Zhao Shanhe sucked in a breath of cold air. Although he didn't quite grasp the talk of art and thrones, he was profoundly shocked.

Now it made sense!

No wonder this kid was so arrogant; it turned out he was heading to the TV Tower to pull off something big!

"Pass the order!" Zhao Shanhe slammed the table, making the teacups rattle. "All police forces, assemble at the TV Tower immediately!"

"SWAT Team! Snipers! Surround the TV Tower like an iron bucket! Don't let even a fly in!"

"I want him trapped with no way out!"

...

Meanwhile.

In the northern outskirts of Jianghai City, at the abandoned factory's underground safe house.

"Achoo—!"

Qin Feng let out an earth-shattering sneeze without warning. The plastic fork in his hand jerked, and a clump of instant noodles he had just twirled up fell back into the soup with a splash, spraying a few drops of red oil.

"Who's talking bad about me?"

Qin Feng rubbed his nose, looking depressed.

He looked at the bowl of steaming braised beef noodles in front of him and let out a long sigh.

"Not even a marinated egg... I can't live like this."

Qin Feng stirred the noodles, his gaze somewhat vacant.

After a night of escaping, drifting, and hacker battles, he was already starving.

He had originally thought that after finishing this act, he'd take his five thousand yuan and have a feast at a roadside barbecue stall. As it turned out, not only could he not go back, but he was also stuck in this godforsaken place gnawing on instant noodles.

"I want a burger..."

Qin Feng muttered to himself, the image of that newly opened trendy burger shop at the base of the city center's TV Tower surfacing in his mind.

He had been craving that shop for a long time; he heard their double cheese beef burger was incredibly juicy, and they were even having a promotion—20% off with a valid ID.

"When it's dawn, can I find a way to sneak over?"

Qin Feng slurped his noodles while calculating in his head. "It's just an exercise anyway. If I go buy a burger and then get caught, the director shouldn't dock my pay, right? After all, this is... replenishing energy to maintain my condition?"

He had absolutely no idea that his simple thought of "getting food" had been interpreted by Xie Qingshang, kilometers away, as the "ultimate judgment upon ascending the throne."

And in the shadows not far from him.

Alice was holding a miniature camera, snapping photos of Qin Feng frantically.

Click, click.

In the lens, Qin Feng's head was slightly lowered, his expression focused.

He wasn't wolfing it down; instead, he used the fork to lift a small bundle of noodles and blew on them gently, his movements slow and deliberate. The swirling steam rose, blurring his slightly weary face, yet adding an indescribable air of melancholy to him.

Was that respect for food?

Or some kind of mysterious ritual before eating?

Alice held her breath, her fingers flying across her phone as she transmitted the photo back to Interpol Headquarters via an encrypted channel.

Note: [Target is currently eating. Even with low-quality instant noodles, every movement reveals an elegance and aristocratic aura etched into his bones. This is definitely no ordinary bandit; please be sure to check the lists of all fallen nobility or royal family members in Europe!]

Two minutes later.

Across the ocean, in the Interpol Headquarters' Intelligence Analysis Room.

Several blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners stared at the photo of Qin Feng eating instant noodles on the large screen, their brows furrowed, expressions as serious as if they were studying the Da Vinci Code.

"Look at his fingers..." A Behavioral Expert pointed at the screen, voice trembling. "His pinky is slightly raised; this is a classic sign of court etiquette training!"

"Exactly! And the frequency of his blowing... three long and one short. Could this be some ancient pre-meal prayer?"

"My God... what is the background of this Joker? Could he really be an illegitimate son of some royal family living in exile?"

"Search! Search every European royal genealogy!"

...

Meanwhile, on the internet, discussions about Qin Feng had completely exploded.

Weibo, Douyin, Bilibili... the top ten trending topics on all social platforms were dominated by the name "Qin Feng."

#WhereExactlyIsQinFeng# [Explosive]

#WulingHongguangLeapsTrashHeap# [Explosive]

#TheBanditGodfathersNextMove# [Sizzling]

#CitywideManhuntIsThisReallyAnExercise# [Hot]

Countless netizens turned into Sherlock Holmes, typing away frantically.

"Brothers! Latest news! The police have surrounded the TV Tower!"

"Holy crap? The TV Tower? Is Qin Feng going there?"

"Definitely! It's a landmark! Standing at the top of the tower looking down on all living things—isn't that the standard ending for a major villain boss?"

"I'm going too! I want to witness the miracle on-site!"

"Don't push, person in front! I'm going too! I want to bring Brother Qin Feng some milk tea!"

"I'm going to give him fifty million! (Huandou Beans)"

For a moment, the gaze of the entire Jianghai City converged on that brightly lit TV Tower.

And at the center of the public opinion vortex.

Qin Feng finished the last sip of noodle soup and let out a satisfied burp.

He pulled out a tissue, wiped his mouth roughly, then crumpled it and tossed it, landing a precision shot into the trash can two meters away.

"Three points."

Qin Feng stretched, stood up from the swivel chair, and rolled his stiff neck, letting out a series of audible cracks.

He turned his head, looking at Alice hiding in the corner, then at Pei Ji, who was trembling while clutching his computer, and finally at the infatuated Su Tang.

"Pack up."

Qin Feng's voice returned to that heart-palpitating indifference; in reality, he was just mimicking the tone of the burger shop owner he had just thought of.

"We're moving to a new place."

When Pei Ji heard they were leaving, he was so scared he nearly dropped his computer. "Brother... running again? Where to? There are police everywhere outside!"

Qin Feng walked to the wall, took a black baseball cap off a hook, and pulled it low, obscuring most of his face.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, revealing a smile that made Alice's heart skip a beat and Pei Ji's legs go weak.

"To a place with lots of people."

"And while we're at it..."

"To buy some breakfast."

(To buy a burger.)