Chapter 4

I gritted my teeth, just as I tightened the blood-soaked bandage, when the door suddenly erupted with a deafening crash, as if it were about to be torn down.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The already dilapidated door frame groaned mournfully, large chunks of plaster crashing to the floor. I had just hopped over on one foot when the lock was violently kicked off by the people outside.

Three blindingly bright flashlights instantly forced me back into a corner.

"Don't move! Hands behind your head! Kneel!"

Three dark Glock pistols were pointed directly at my forehead. The officer in charge was filled with malice, the walkie-talkie on his uniform crackling with static. His finger was tightly gripping the trigger, as if looking at a pile of unrecyclable garbage: "We received a tip from a concerned citizen that a vicious fugitive murderer is hiding here!"

A murderer? Being falsely accused of molestation while stocking shelves at the supermarket wasn't enough, now it's been upgraded to murder? This utterly absurd charge made me laugh in anger.

“Sir, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m a retired firefighter, just fired from the supermarket yesterday.” I suppressed the rage churning in my chest, trying to slow my speech, and turned to point to the wooden table two steps away. “My discharge certificate, firefighter ID, and state honor medal are all in that brown wallet. You can see for yourselves.”

My hand had just risen, my gaze falling on the table.

“He’s grabbing a weapon! Suspect assaulting a police officer!” The lead officer suddenly shouted in an extremely exaggerated voice.

Without giving me any chance to explain, and before I could even turn around, two massive bodies pounced on me like hungry wolves. One of them slammed his knee into my lower back, while the other roughly grabbed my neck, slamming me to the ground like a heavy bag of cement.

“Bang!”

My left cheek slammed against the rough wooden floor. The fragile new skin and newly scabbed burn wounds left by the fire months ago were brutally peeled off under the intense friction. Warm blood gushed out like a burst dam, blurring my left eye and turning my vision a ghastly crimson.

"Snap! Snap!"

Two cold handcuffs slammed into my wrists, deliberately twisting my arms behind my back at the extreme limit of human endurance. The bones in my shoulders cracked dangerously, and I gasped in pain, but gritted my teeth to suppress a scream.

Before the excruciating pain had even subsided, they grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out the door like a dead dog.

Outside, the red and blue flashing lights of police cars blared through the night. Even more glaring than the police lights were the cell phone flashes that filled the entire yard.

"Good for him! Kill this pervert!" Mrs. Harris from next door waved her fist excitedly, her shrill voice piercing the night.

"Take a clear picture of this monster's face! Post it in the parents' group!"

"Serves you right! You scared the kids!"

"Officer, please don't let him out! He tried to get revenge on us yesterday!"

Countless phone cameras were practically shoved in my face, greedily capturing my bloodied face and the pathetic sight of me being pinned to the mud. The neighbors were celebrating like it was a grand carnival; no one cared about the truth, they only enjoyed the thrill of trampling a "monster" underfoot.

I was roughly shoved into the back of the police car, the neighbors' vicious curses ultimately shattered by the piercing siren.

At the police station, I was pushed directly into the innermost detention cell, reeking of urine and a strong musty smell, my hands tightly handcuffed to a cold iron bench.

"I need to make a phone call! I have the right to contact my lawyer!" I struggled violently, the handcuffs chafing my wrists raw and bleeding. I roared at the iron bars, "Give me my wallet to verify my identity! My facial wound is infected, I need a doctor!"

The corridor was empty. After a long while, a portly policeman on duty, carrying a cup of coffee, strolled over leisurely. He looked me up and down through the bars as if I were a mutated beast in a circus cage, then let out a sneer.

"Save your breath, pedophile and murderer." He took a sip of coffee, tapping the iron bars mockingly. "The chief has spoken; your case is 'ironclad evidence.' No one will listen to your excuses, and no doctor will care whether a pervert lives or dies. You can just wait to die in there."

With that, he left without looking back.

There were no interrogation records, no statements taken, not even a tissue to wipe the blood from my eyes.

A high fever, triggered by an infected wound, quickly spread throughout my body, and I shivered uncontrollably. The nail wound on my sole, the laceration on my face, the dislocated shoulder—all intertwined into an impenetrable net. I was thus locked tightly to the cold, dark bench, enduring an unimaginable night of torture.

The next morning. The wall clock had just struck nine.

On the evidence table in the outer office area, my old cell phone, its screen cracked, suddenly began vibrating wildly, the cheap ringtone jarring in the quiet police station.

The chubby policeman on duty last night, irritably eating a donut, impatiently walked over and snatched my phone.

"Who's calling at this hour?" he muttered, pressing the answer button and putting it on speakerphone, seemingly intending for me in the detention cell to hear.

"This is Arthur. Let Jack Miller speak."

A voice, aged yet imposing and authoritative, came from the other end.

The moment I heard that voice, I jerked my head up. It was the old man I had risked my life and my face to carry out of the 800-degree Celsius inferno months ago—the current governor of this state!

The fat policeman didn't recognize the voice at all. He rolled his eyes and yelled into the microphone, "Fuck you, Arthur! You old bastard, the psychopath you found is caught! He's in my station right now, handcuffed and rotting away in jail for the rest of his life! If you dare call again, I'll arrest you and your accomplice too!" A

deathly silence fell on the other end of the line.

The fat policeman hung up, cursing, and tossed the shattered phone back onto the evidence table like trash.

"Governor? If you know a governor, I'm the President of the United States!" He scoffed, patting the donut crumbs off his hands, looking at me like I was a ridiculous madman. "There are all sorts of mentally ill people out there, even hiring an old man to act. You can just stay in there and wait to die!"

I leaned back on the cold bench, the excruciating pain in my wrist had gone numb, and the high fever made my vision a little blurry, but a cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

He had no idea who he had just insulted.

Time ticked by, second by second. The hands of the wall clock ticked away with a sound that only deepened the despair.

One hour... two hours... a full three and a half hours have passed.

The high fever and blood loss brought me to the brink of unconsciousness several times, and the festering pain of my wounds felt like countless ants gnawing at my nerves. Meanwhile, inside the police station, the atmosphere remained languid, listless, and deathly still. The overweight policeman finished two donuts, even propping his legs up on his desk and leisurely starting to snore.

Until almost noon.

"Buzz—"

The heavy roar of engines and the tremors of the ground suddenly broke the deathly silence.

Immediately afterwards, the piercing sirens of police cars, mixed with the screeching of heavy armored vehicles screeching to their brakes, shattered the tranquility outside the police station without warning.

The heavy glass doors of the police station were violently pushed open, the doorframes groaning under the weight. Through the iron bars, I half-opened my eyes, which were covered in blood, and coldly watched as the lobby outside descended into chaos.

"Chief! Outside... outside..." The gatekeeper scrambled in, his police hat falling off, and he could barely speak.

Before anyone could react, the heavy, synchronized thud of tactical boots thundered in like a rumble of thunder. Two full squads of heavily armed state troopers surged in like a black tide, instantly taking control of all entrances and exits to the entire hall.

The fat policeman suddenly woke up from his chair, so frightened that he fell to the ground.

The police chief, his uniform unbuttoned and drenched in sweat, stumbled down from his second-floor office. When he saw the four black bulletproof SUVs and two state trooper patrol cars parked outside the door, his muscular face twitched, and he quickly plastered on an extremely obsequious smile as he approached them.

"Your Excellency the Governor? What brings you here so suddenly? It's an honor for our branch office..."