National Forensic Doctor-Chapter 1119 - 1050: Warm Red

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In the dead of night, Bian Yizhang stood on the rooftop.

The light in the east wing on the first floor turned on and off again. Bian Yizhang rubbed his eyes and sat up, knowing Jiang Yuan was about to come out.

He had observed this several times before and knew that the annex building of the Criminal Science Building of the 9th block in the Criminal Police Detachment was exclusively used by Jiang Yuan. Among them, the forensic doctor’s most frequently used autopsy room was located on the first floor. Not only was it convenient, but the smell also dissipated easily.

Within the police system, this detail alone had already surpassed most forensic doctors’ living conditions.

Bian Yizhang slowly stood up, stretched and rubbed his wrists and ankles, then put on a windbreaker. He carefully folded the rainproof tarp that concealed his position, stored it in his tactical backpack, and descended via the fire escape on the other side of the building.

He was in no rush. Jiang Yuan was there, like the crown jewel, simply awaiting him to pluck it. Yet every moment before the actual act of plucking felt like savoring the anticipation to Bian Yizhang.

"Command the underworld! Haha..." Bian Yizhang remembered a story he had heard while drinking, about how Jiang Yuan spread a rumor and prominent figures from the underworld enthusiastically assisted in finding someone. It made him scoff outwardly yet envy inwardly.

Of course, he himself had no qualification to have the underworld bosses serve him, especially in such a tacit and effortless way — merely a gesture was enough to mobilize action. Bian Yizhang knew he would never have such power in his lifetime.

But from another perspective, if he could kill Jiang Yuan — particularly by killing him meticulously, brutally humiliating him in the process — then afterward, the legends of the underworld would inevitably include the name of Bian Yizhang.

Bian Yizhang tightly shouldered his backpack, conserving his energy, and arrived at a small alley about two kilometers away from the Criminal Police Detachment.

This alley opened onto a road that was the necessary route from the Ningtai County Criminal Police Detachment to Jiangcun Residential Area. The alley entrance was monitored by surveillance cameras, but there was no surveillance inside the alley.

Of course, if one were determined to search, footage from outside the alley could still capture Bian Yizhang’s silhouette. After all, there were too many cameras in Ningtai County.

But these concerns were for later. As long as Bian Yizhang wasn’t noticed by the cameras while waiting, he didn’t care about surveillance once he had captured Jiang Yuan.

He had prepared three safe houses nearby, and in any one of them, he was confident he could dissect Jiang Yuan in detail within two hours.

Just as he had practiced before.

Vroom...

The sound of a car engine rose from far away.

Bian Yizhang glanced at his watch; if Jiang Yuan had left when the lights were turned off, the timing of the vehicle approaching would be just right.

He pulled up his hood, advanced slightly out of the alley, and raised his binoculars to observe the oncoming vehicle.

It was a Honda Accord, obviously not Jiang Yuan’s car or a police vehicle.

Disappointed, Bian Yizhang sighed and retreated back into the alley.

He felt that tonight presented a good opportunity — Jiang Yuan was leaving work later than usual; the late-night county roads had sparse traffic; coupled with the favorable weather and visibility, capturing Jiang Yuan might leave the police unresponsive for several hours.

By then, he could vanish with his prepared fake documents and SIM cards, potentially becoming a legendary figure in the underworld.

Vroom, vroom...

The sound of another car engine approached. Instinctively, Bian Yizhang stepped forward again, raised his binoculars, and squinted at the scene.

It was the Alphard that Jiang Yuan often used.

Bian Yizhang wasn’t sure if Jiang Yuan was inside the car. After all, many Jiang Village residents owned Alphards too. But at this time of night, it was highly likely Jiang Yuan was the passenger.

Bian Yizhang wasn’t one to overthink repeatedly. On the contrary, once he decided on a course of action, he stuck to it single-mindedly.

So, within seconds of spotting the Alphard, Bian Yizhang tossed a handful of caltrops across the road.

Purchased cheaply online, the caltrops were durable and plentiful — four-legged metal devices that always left one end pointing upward when they hit the ground. While ancient soldiers feared them injuring their feet, modern car tires couldn’t handle them either.

Screeeech...

The rapidly approaching Alphard began to skid, followed by a sharp screech of grinding metal.

In the brief moment Bian Yizhang had hoped the Alphard would flip over, the vehicle instead slowed to a halt.

Bian Yizhang quickly retrieved the Hualong shotgun from his backpack. It was a short double-barreled hunting gun with rough edges that he had personally polished to avoid cutting his hand when gripping it.

The gun wasn’t of high quality, but it was still a gun. If aimed right, two shots were enough to kill two people — which Bian Yizhang felt would suffice.

If not, he had additional ammunition. Plus, a long knife was strapped to his back.

In modern times, people had little concept of cold weapons. However, even watching a few anti-Japanese war dramas would reveal the clear advantages of long weapons in real combat. In hand-to-hand combat, long weapons were almost unbeatable unless facing rare combat elites.

Bian Yizhang wore a stab-proof vest purchased online for 500 yuan — capable of withstanding police-grade daggers for close combat.

Bian Yizhang tightened his backpack straps once again, adjusted his gloves, cradled the shotgun in his arms, and started inconspicuously walking toward the Alphard.

The distance from the alley to where the Alphard had stopped was about 20 meters.

At this distance, surveillance cameras would likely catch his image.

But Bian Yizhang no longer cared.

At this moment, in this situation, Bian Yizhang felt nearly invincible.

Clack.

It seemed the passengers of the Alphard, recovering from their initial fright, opened the door and stepped out.

"Watch out for sharp objects on the ground."

"Hey brother, don’t come over. We’re fine. There are nails on the ground." The first person who exited stepped onto the caltrops. Thankfully, his boots were thick enough not to puncture his soles, so he quickly warned the others.

The man spoke the local dialect, his tone friendly, and didn’t give much thought to Bian Yizhang’s identity.

Bian Yizhang remained silent and kept walking.

The second person, then the third person, followed suit and alighted from the vehicle, and finally, the driver stepped out.

At this moment, using the car’s interior lights, Bian Yizhang confirmed no one was left inside.

His gaze quickly swept over the four individuals; none of them were tall.

This wasn’t right.

Bian Yizhang had observed Jiang Yuan many times before, and his most prominent impression had always been Jiang Yuan’s height.

Most of the time, Jiang Yuan stood taller than the people around him — the kind of person whose head would be unmistakable in a sniper’s scope unless he suddenly shifted his position.

Yet among these passengers, none matched that height.

In a split second, Bian Yizhang swiftly shoved the shotgun back into his tactical backpack and adjusted his trousers so the long knife hugged his pants leg seamlessly.

"Anyone hurt?" Bian Yizhang deliberately lowered his voice, pretending to be a well-meaning passerby.

"No injuries, we’re all good. Everything’s fine, really."

"Good to hear."

"Yeah, we’re fine."

The passengers exchanged reassurances among themselves.

Bian Yizhang shuffled his feet twice to clear away any caltrops that might puncture his own shoes, glanced at them again, and sighed, "If you’re all okay, just call your insurance company. I’ll take my leave now."

"Sure thing." The driver responded, then asked casually, "What are you doing out so late? Taking a walk?"

"Couldn’t sleep, insomnia." Bian Yizhang came up with an excuse, backed away two steps to move out of the streetlight’s glare, then turned around and left.

Vroom...

Another Alphard approached with its headlights on, stopping dozens of meters away from the accident scene.

Mu Zhiyang stepped out, hand near his waist like an American cop, and shouted from afar, "What happened here?"

"There are nails on the ground; the tires got punctured." Someone from the first Alphard shielded his eyes from the light and replied, "Is that Old Twelve?"

"It’s us." The driver from the second Alphard answered.

The two vehicles recognized each other, and only then did Jiang Yuan step out.

Bian Yizhang, now back at the alley entrance, stealthily raised his binoculars for observation.

At this point, he felt regret — what if he had let the first Alphard pass? Yet Jiang Yuan’s bodyguards were always troublesome, requiring a clean headshot to eliminate.

Bian Yizhang was still contemplating his next move when Jiang Yuan stopped before a cluster of caltrops, lowered his head, and appeared to study the ground.

Within seconds, Bian Yizhang suddenly realized something — Jiang Yuan was examining footprints.

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

At this moment, under these circumstances, Bian Yizhang’s heart raced vigorously, and adrenaline surged through his body, making him feel feverish.

Run!

That was his first thought.

Go for it!

That was his second thought.