NABC Chapter 50 Li En is the most righteous police officer
Chapter 50 Li En is the most righteous police officer
Hell's Kitchen was eerily quiet under the cover of night.
At this time of day, there are usually at least a few thugs squatting on the sidewalk smoking.
A homeless man wrapped in a sleeping bag is curled up under the ventilation duct, and at the alley entrance, there are always teenagers riding modified motorcycles and revving their engines.
There's nothing tonight.
Lee and Frank walked in the middle of the street, both of them fully armed.
The Frank KSG shotgun hung on his back, its stock gently tapping against the buckle of his tactical belt with each step.
Li En was wearing a police bulletproof vest, holding a Glock in his right hand with the muzzle pointing downwards.
He walked to Frank's left, at a leisurely pace, almost like taking a stroll.
The homeless man sleeping under the ventilation vent on the street corner saw two figures emerge from under the streetlight in the distance, the cigarette butts he was holding between his fingers falling to the ground.
He wrapped the sleeping bag tighter around himself and shrank into the deepest shadow of the ventilation shaft, even suppressing his breathing.
On the opposite sidewalk, two teenagers with smoky lights were squatting in front of a convenience store, dividing money as they stuffed it into their pockets.
They stood up, straddled their motorcycles, stepped on the starter, and pushed the bikes into the alley before the engine was even running.
"Single-door, they hide faster than mice."
Frank glanced at the two teenagers who had disappeared into the alleyway pushing their motorcycle, then released his grip on the shotgun.
He's not in a good mood tonight.
Brock made it clear that there shouldn't be any entertainment activities these days, as the twenty or so people at the Keener Bar weren't enough to warm him up.
He originally planned to take advantage of his patrol duties to find a few petty thugs to stretch his muscles.
As a result, these guys ran away as soon as they saw him, faster than he had in the 400-meter obstacle course in the Marine Corps.
Li En, on the other hand, really enjoyed the feeling of taking a walk.
The night wind blew in from the direction of the Hudson River, diluting the smell of diesel and rust from the port.
The whole street was so quiet that you could hear your own footsteps.
Frank turned his neck, his cervical spine making a slight cracking sound, and suddenly spoke.
"Speaking of which, where did you get so much ammunition?"
He had been holding these words in his heart for two days.
Barron, that kid, drew a very clear map of the attack route for the Amick building in the director's office.
The points of engagement, ballistic angles, and locations of the bodies on each floor are all marked.
But there was a problem that Baron noticed, but didn't understand.
Nearly two hundred people in that building were all killed by the same type of ammunition and the same gun.
"I don't believe you would carry an armory there."
Frank himself was an arms master.
At the firing range of the Marine Corps' Power Reconnaissance Company, he taught hundreds of new recruits how to disassemble and assemble an M16, how to determine the trajectory of a bullet, and how to deduce the firearm model from the primer indentation on the cartridge case.
A pistol fired continuously, killing nearly two hundred targets, without any change in the ammunition.
Logically, the gun barrel should have overheated and deformed long ago.
This isn't a problem of marksmanship; it's a problem of physical limits.
Barron had never served in the military, so it's not his fault that he couldn't see it.
Li En flipped his hand over.
A Glock appeared out of thin air in his palm, and he handed the gun to Frank, the grip facing forward.
Frank took it.
The first one I got was a regular Glock.
The kind issued by the police station had its grip's anti-slip texture worn smooth, and there was a small, indelible dark stain next to the magazine release button.
He turned the gun over to check the chamber, removed the magazine, and found it was full.
Push it back, pull the slide, and another shot enters the chamber.
All are standard nine millimeters, and there are no abnormalities in the indentation on the primer.
He looked at it over and over again, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.
"You used this to completely destroy the Amick Corporation?"
His voice carried the disbelief of a weapons expert.
He certainly believed that Lee En could take down two hundred men with a Glock.
I just can't figure out why the gun didn't explode halfway through the mission.
"The gun is indeed fine, it's just that the situation is rather unusual."
Lee took the gun from Frank, ran his index finger through the trigger guard, and turned it once, with the muzzle pointing downwards.
Unlimited ammo doesn't mean the barrel won't heat up, and there are no terms like unlimited durability or indestructibility.
"If the gun is fired continuously, even the barrel can't withstand it."
"There are breaks in between. In one building, you clean one floor, wait a while, and then clean the next floor."
"In the end, it all turned into a game of hide-and-seek."
Frank suddenly realized and nodded with his chin.
"That's more like it."
It would be reasonable if there were time for rest and recuperation.
The technical dilemma that had been troubling him was finally resolved.
"But why do you insist on using this gun? Picking up those gangster guns would be just as good."
Lee En pulled Glock back into his palm.
"Like you, I create symbols."
"Gangster guns have a chance of jamming, at least this one won't explode in my hands, and besides..."
He turned the Glock between his fingers, with the butt pointing downwards and the muzzle pointing at the night sky.
"If you keep using the same gun, the symbol will grow out on its own."
He planned to use this gun as his dedicated weapon for missions at the Mainland Hotel.
Multiple aliases mean multiple lives; this world is too dangerous.
Who knows when a super criminal, a super boss, or both might suddenly appear?
dong dong.
Two muffled thuds came from the alley ahead.
The sound was not loud, it was muffled, and the intervals were very short.
Normally, such noises are completely inaudible on the street, drowned out by traffic and the low-pitched drumbeats from bars.
But tonight, the entire street was silenced by the presence of two walking gods of death.
The two muffled thuds were so clear they were almost jarring when they came through the alleyway.
Frank had already dashed out.
He had been holding back ever since Brock ordered him to stop his nighttime activities.
The Irish gang leader is dead, Amic is dead, but there's still the Mexican gang, the Russian gang, and countless smaller gangs.
His anger was burning every minute, but there was no new fuel to add to it for the time being.
Hearing a noise in the alley, their legs reacted before their brains.
Li En walked slowly behind.
The last operation was quite successful.
Frank brought back $1.5 million in cash from Keener Bar, mostly crumpled twenty and fifty dollars, bundled together with rubber bands.
He found $800,000 in cash and $2 million in bearer bonds in Amick's safe.
With the reward money from the mainland hotels, they've really struck it rich this time.
But money laundering is a big problem.
Brock's money laundering scheme was almost unsustainable after two failed attempts; it was already considered generous of him to be able to return 700,000 out of every 1 million laundered.
Hotels in mainland China do offer money laundering services, charging 50% of the cost.
A million clean dollars, after passing through their hands, is reduced to half a million, and they don't even help pay taxes.
Including taxes, it would be at most three or four hundred thousand.
Those people in the tax bureau make more money than he does robbing gangsters.
Bang, thud, snap.
A series of punches landed squarely in the alley.
Li En's eyebrows twitched slightly.
How could the thugs from Hell's Kitchen fight Frank for so long?
In terms of fighting skills alone, even with his special forces background, he's only evenly matched with Frank.
He walked to the alley entrance, turned around, and looked inside.
The alley was narrow, and the brick walls on both sides were blackened by decades of rain. The ground was pitted and covered with a thin layer of muddy water.
The three thugs lay curled up against the wall, motionless, already unconscious.
Frank is fighting with a man wearing a black headscarf.
Matt Murdoch, the masked man.
Li Enqian simply leaned against the wall at the alley entrance to watch.
Frank punched Matt in the chin, and Matt's head snapped back, but he didn't stumble.
Matt punched Frank in the stomach, and Frank's abdominal muscles took the full force of the blow.
Neither of them showed any intention of avoiding it.
"Don't interfere!" Frank noticed that Li En had arrived, turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, and continued to fight Matt.
Li En never intended to get involved.
He watched as the two of them exchanged punches, the rhythm as steady as a turn-based game.
Frank throws a punch, Matt takes it, then Matt throws a punch back, which Frank also takes.
The punch is always aimed at the lower abdomen or chin, both of which are the most painful but least fatal spots.
"They should all be brought to justice; you're just a murderer!"
Matt's voice boomed from beneath the headscarf, blood splattering from his lips onto the black fabric.
"What kind of punishment do you think these scumbags will receive in prison?"
Frank pulled his fist back, his chest puffing out.
"It's full of their own people. They've committed murder, rape, drug trafficking, and ruined countless families and futures."
"Then I got arrested by the police and went to jail where I was given three nutritious meals a day and was even able to work out and build muscle."
"When they come out a few months later to continue selling drugs and killing people, what do those who are already dead matter!"
He raised his fist and slammed it down hard on Matt's head.
thump.
Standing at the alley entrance, Li En could hear the dull thud of bones colliding with skulls, and subconsciously touched the back of his head.
Matt staggered back a few steps from the punch, his back hitting the brick wall. He swayed, his arms hanging at his sides, his fingertips trembling slightly.
He gritted his teeth and struggled to stand up straight again.
Then he roared, channeling all the power from his chest into his right fist, and slammed it hard into Frank's abdomen.
"ah!!!"
Frank was thrown two meters into the air, his combat boots leaving two deep marks on the muddy ground. He staggered back several steps before regaining his balance.
He swallowed back what was rising in his throat and spat out a mouthful of dark red phlegm.
Matt's body was also swaying.
He pulled his fist back from mid-air, his fingers still clenching and unclenching spasmodically.
"You didn't...you didn't think that much about it at all!"
"You're just venting your anger; you're no different from those criminals!"
Li En leaned against the wall at the alley entrance, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Matt's words hit Frank's nail on the head.
This blind lawyer is indeed quite skilled, probably due to his extrasensory perception techniques.
They can hear other people's heart rate and breathing rhythm, and deduce their emotional state from physiological data.
Li En had already figured this out after several interactions.
His dedication to procedural justice is quite remarkable, and he may well become a prominent figure in the future.
However, this guy is wearing ordinary clothes and only has a black towel wrapped around his head, so it's really impossible to tell which hero he is.
There aren't many blind superheroes, but I seem to remember some.
Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore. It's more interesting to watch the show now.
Frank swayed.
He had his head down, blood was still flowing from his mouth, and he poked his chest with his finger.
"Yes, I admit it... I just wanted to punish scumbags."
Then he raised his hand and pointed to Li En, who was leaning against the alley entrance.
"But he's different; he's the most righteous policeman."
Lee Eun's arms, which had been crossed in front of her chest, unconsciously loosened.
You two are having your own ideological debate, why are you dragging me into it?
The most righteous? His actions were almost entirely driven by selfish motives.
He went to the port to rescue Cortel because he told Monica: I will do my best.
Because he accepted the mission, he, being a gaming addict, developed a compulsion related to it.
I saved those children because I saw their faces in the shipping container; it was a personal desire to save them, not for the sake of justice.
He killed the purple man because the purple man wanted to kill him.
Even now, when he's working with Frank to wipe out the gangs, the reason given is that robbing the gangs is faster than taking their wages.
Frank didn't wait for Lee to speak and continued talking.
"To save people with no vested interest—isn't that the purest form of justice?"
Li En looked away from Frank and turned to look out onto the street, somewhat embarrassed.
That's an excessive compliment!
"You're right, Li En is indeed an excellent and righteous police officer."
Matt nodded in agreement with Frank's words.
He wiped the blood off his headscarf with the back of his hand and turned towards Li En.
"But the methods were also far too violent."
"The law must be upheld; only the law can truly protect more ordinary people."
"Pah." Frank spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm that landed on the ground, mixed with mud and blood.
"Those things are all designed to protect the rich and powerful. Who makes the laws? The powerful and wealthy themselves."
"The rules they write protect themselves, and how many laws are specifically designed to target ordinary people, huh!?"
Lee turned around and glared at Frank, somewhat surprised.
This guy actually has this kind of social observation.
This guy probably saw a lot of dirty stuff in the army.
Matt shook his head slightly.
Blood was still dripping from the hem of his headscarf, but he stood firmly.
"But if the world were without the constraints of law, the consequences would be far more terrible."
"Officer Lee, Officer Frank."
He started to retreat deeper into the alley, limping, his left knee probably injured in the fight earlier.
"I hope you can think about this more."
His figure was gradually swallowed up by the darkness deep in the alley.
Li En straightened up from the wall at the alley entrance and walked to Frank's side.
"You actually suffered such a huge loss."
"Hmph." Frank took his hand down from the corner of his mouth; the back of his hand was covered in bloodstains.
"I don't know why, but I can't control my anger when I see that guy."
He reached out and brushed away Li En's offer to help him up, then bent down to pick up the shotgun that had fallen to the ground and hung it back on his back.
"Let's go."
Li En followed him toward the alley entrance.
Frank knew perfectly well why he hadn't killed Matt.
Because Matt is an idiot.
Moreover, he's a fool who puts his ideals into practice.
Such fools are rare in any era; every one who dies is one less to be found.
He himself has been hesitant to make a move against Matt for the same reason.
No matter the time, it's always good to have a few more fools.
……