Chapter Twenty-One: Murder Game (IX)

A new day began. Outside the window, the birds were still chirping, the delicate blooms in the garden had just shed their robes of dew from the night before, and the cicadas continued the nocturnal symphony started by the insects. Life pulsed everywhere, the air filled with the fragrance of flowers and the music of birds. Within the villa, however, the crimson flower of crime, after a night of brewing, was about to bloom in silence.

Luo Hanya glanced at his watch and sighed softly, “Seven o’clock already.” He stretched his limbs as usual, then sat quietly on the edge of the bed, waiting for the assassin to make a move.

Waiting was the hardest part, especially the kind that hovered between life and death. Luo Hanya sat for a while, then stood, eventually pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back, letting his thoughts run wild. “Perhaps today the assassin might choose to kill me, then the mission will be left incomplete once again.”

He laughed at himself, “If the assassin is going to kill someone, it wouldn’t be me. Bloodhand and Tan Yue are the assassin’s prime targets. What do I have to fear?” Despite his words, he couldn’t calm himself. He paced restlessly, his face troubled, which was why others had dubbed him “Monkey Luo.”

“Ah!” Luo Hanya cried out, finally deciding to lie comfortably on the bed. “Hmph, even if I die, I’ll die comfortably.” He sprawled across the bed, smug, then his expression turned blank as he stared at the clock in a daze.

“My eyes ache, everything’s getting blurry.” Luo Hanya simply closed his eyes, listening to the ticking of the second hand—“tick, tick, tick”—and muttered, “One, two, three.”

In the bottomless darkness, the rhythmic sound could drive most people mad, but Luo Hanya listened and waited like this, until—

“One thousand two hundred and nineteen.” When Luo Hanya finished counting, he abruptly opened his eyes. The minute hand landed precisely at six. A tremor ran through him; he knew that at this moment, someone had left this world. He only hoped it wasn’t Tan Yue.

Luo Hanya sat up, unclenching his tightly gripped hand. In his palm was a slip of paper, the one Tan Yue had handed him the day before, with words written: “If misfortune befalls me tomorrow, everything I know is beneath the pillow. May it help you succeed.”

“Heh, that old man is so cautious. How could he possibly die?” Luo Hanya glanced again at the note, shrugged, and pulled a face at the mirror, laughing.

“Tick.” The door opened slowly; it was eight o’clock. But today, Luo Hanya did not plan to be the first to leave. He merely watched the door, waiting for Tan Yue’s figure to pass by.

Bloodhand and Xiao Bai went downstairs one after another, but Tan Yue did not appear. “Impossible, he must have overslept.” Luo Hanya stood up nervously, uttering a reason even he didn’t believe. After all, how could a hero policeman like Tan Yue be late?

At last, Luo Hanya could no longer sit still. He hurried out the door, nearly stumbling over the threshold, and staggered into Tan Yue’s room.

But the scene before him stunned Luo Hanya completely. There was nothing but blood—blood everywhere. A large pool still flowed across the floor; blood blossoms bloomed on the wall, so bright it was impossible to tell what was blood and what was flesh.

“Why! Why!”

“How could you die? You were everyone’s hope. How could they kill you? What right did they have?”

“How could you just die like this? You haven’t saved everyone yet! You said you wanted to be friends with me!”

Luo Hanya collapsed to his knees, his eyes bloodshot, tears streaming unchecked across his face. In a frenzy, he beat the floor, his angry curses echoing again and again.

“Damn you, old fool! My throat’s hoarse from yelling at you—what right do you have? What right to die?” After this, Luo Hanya could curse no longer. He rolled over and lay sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath, the tears still falling one by one.

After lying there for a while, Luo Hanya gradually recovered. He pushed himself up, muttering under his breath—probably still calling Tan Yue an old fool.

He walked to Tan Yue’s bed and gave a silent military salute to the fallen hero policeman. Then he moved to the head of the bed, gently lifted the pillow, and retrieved a sheet of paper from beneath it, placing the pillow back with solemn care.

Luo Hanya rubbed his aching eyes, sniffed, and sat upright on the bed, quietly reading the letter in his hands—a farewell, a testament from the dead.

Cold Crow Luo, if you are reading this letter, I must already be gone. Who would have thought, after a lifetime as a policeman, I would die as a killer—it’s truly ironic. But don’t grieve for me; I deserve to die, I should have gone to join my Aya long ago. Perhaps you don’t know who Aya is. She was my wife, and she’s the woman you saw in the video being violated by me. Incredible, isn’t it? I think so too, but in truth, I’ve been insane for years. It’s not so surprising that a madman would do such things. In ten years of undercover work, I became a demon. In those years, I killed untold people, saw untold darkness, until I too fell into the shadows. In the end, I dispatched my boss who had ruled me for ten years in the most satanic way, and buried my most loyal subordinate by my own hand. From then on, I left the darkness, but my heart never escaped its shadow. People in the sunlight call me a hero, but who knows that I am only a bear struggling to survive in the dark.

Forgive me, I’ve written too much about myself. I want to emphasize one person: Bloodhand. You must beware of him. While I lived, there was someone to counter him, but now that I’m gone, everything changes. Yesterday, I saw him take a rusty machete from the storeroom. He tried smashing the tempered glass with it. From his eyes, I saw madness for money. He will never give up that hundred million dollars. You must guard against him, for in this game, killing everyone is the simplest way to win.

Finally, I must give you one last clue. That old fellow is very likely hiding under the main door. I suspect there’s a secret room there. Last night after dinner, I quietly walked around the entrance. I found nothing, but felt as if something was watching me, especially at that spot. It’s the keen sense of someone used to darkness. You can try your luck there. I’ve told you all I can; my time is running out. I hope you can accomplish what I could not. Well, I’m off to see my Aya. But what if I end up in hell? My Aya surely belongs in heaven. Ah, it’s quite the dilemma!

Luo Hanya finished reading Tan Yue’s farewell, rubbing his aching nose. Though his eyes were still blurred with tears, a faint smile curled his lips. “That old man never lets anyone rest easy, does he?”