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If he had chosen black earlier, Wen Yiqian could have easily ordered himself to do something foolish and surrendered without a fight.

But doing that would have brought Fang Yu’s most relentless pursuit down on him.

Even if he didn’t die at Fang Yu’s hands, explaining away the whole mess would be nearly impossible.

No one would believe that Fang Yu had gone to such lengths simply to compete with Wen Yiqian.

In the end, he’d probably wind up in a prison cell, or worse, dragged into mutual destruction with Fang Yu, unable to clear his name no matter what.

It would essentially mean sacrificing himself to save everyone.

Thinking it over carefully, Wen Yiqian didn’t consider himself noble enough for that.

Even if he had chosen black, things might not have turned out much better.

With all these chaotic thoughts churning through his head, Wen Yiqian felt like his mind was a complete mess.

The thought that one wrong decision could get innocent people killed left him too afraid to even suggest anything.

Watching the squad leader and Li Weiguo grow increasingly anxious, firing questions left and right, Wen Yiqian knew there was no other way.

If there had been any alternative, he wouldn’t have wanted to start performing.

In a situation like this, an unexpected loss of control would basically finish him.

But time waits for no one. He had no choice.

He took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, his previously lowered head lifted slightly.

The transformation was visible: from self-doubt to self-confidence.

“I have a way,” he said, stepping out of the RV. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, and yawned, as if he had just woken up from a nap.

“What way?”

Li Weiguo and the squad leader asked almost simultaneously.

Wen Yiqian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leisurely straightened his suit.

Today, he had worn a black suit for the occasion.

Suits are all about presence.

Some people look like tacky try-hards in one. Others look effortlessly sharp.

Before, his extreme lack of confidence had shown in everything: head down, back hunched, poor posture, an air of perpetual awkwardness.

Now, chest out and head high, confidence clear in his eyes, his entire bearing had shifted. There was a quiet authority to him that hadn’t been there before.

“Hurry up and tell us. What’s the plan? We’re running out of time!”

Seeing Wen Yiqian still silent, Li Weiguo pressed impatiently.

“That’s right, Xiao Wen. If you have an idea, just say it. We can work through it together. No need to feel embarrassed,” the squad leader added.

“It’s simple.” Wen Yiqian turned to face them, a slight smile on his lips. “Just follow my lead.”

Inside the bank, more than a dozen hostages sat on the floor, wrists and ankles bound, faces pale with fear.

Men, women, elderly, children: without exception, all of them were silent.

The source of that silence was a heavyset man sitting apart from the others, his thigh torn open by a bullet.

No one wanted to end up like him.

There were four robbers in total, each wearing a different mask and carrying a gun.

They called themselves Monk, Monkey, Pig Head, and Little Bai, after the masks they wore: Tang Monk, Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and the White Horse respectively.

Monkey held his gun trained on the hostages. Little Bai sat quietly on a nearby chair, watching the seconds tick past on his wristwatch.

Monk stood to one side, eyes on his phone, occasionally tapping the screen as if exchanging messages with someone.

Pig Head was the one who had called the police. After hanging up, he flashed the others an OK sign. “Done.”

“What if the squad leader refuses to come in after five minutes?” Monkey turned his head and asked.

“No problem,” Monk replied without looking up, his tone completely unhurried. “We have plenty of hostages. If he doesn’t come in, we start killing. We keep killing until he does.”

His voice was calm. It sent a chill through every hostage in the room.

“If he doesn’t come in, at worst he loses his position,” Monkey said, shaking his head. “If he does come in, he might die.”

He swung his gun toward one of the hostages. “What would you choose?”

“I… I… I…” The hostage stammered but couldn’t get a word out.

“Hard to say,” Pig Head chuckled. “If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t walk in here to die.”

“Then what are you doing right now?” Monkey shot back.

Silence fell over the group. The entire bank went still.

“No signal.” Monk, who had been staring at his phone, suddenly frowned. “They’ve blocked it.”

“Then how are we supposed to contact him?” Pig Head’s voice rose with anxiety, as if he’d lost his footing.

“Kill a few hostages,” Monkey suggested, his voice carrying a hint of relish. “Make them think twice about their little tricks.”

“Seconded.” Pig Head raised his hand.

Monk neither nodded nor shook his head. He looked instead at Little Bai, who had been sitting quietly without saying a word. “Little Bai. What do you think?”

Little Bai glanced at his watch and nodded.

“Then we kill one first. Make an example.” Monk’s voice remained steady. “Monkey. You do it.”

Chaos erupted among the hostages. Cries and pleas flooded the room.

“Got it.” Monkey’s excitement was audible as he swept his gun across the group. “So… who should we pick?”

He let the barrel drift back and forth, as if savoring the noise. “Hmm. Let’s go with the ugliest one.”

He settled his aim on one of the men. “You. Don’t look around. You’re the ugliest one here. Get out here. Now.”

“It’s not my fault I’m ugly!” the man wailed, shrinking back.

The people around him shuffled away as if he were contagious.

“Not moving?” Monkey said. “Then I’ll just shoot you where you are.”

He raised the gun and took aim. The hostages scattered as much as their bindings allowed, screaming, while the man desperately tried to press himself into the crowd.

“Don’t move, don’t move…” Monkey kept the gun trained on him, pleasure creeping into his voice.

“Stop playing around. Get it done,” Monk said.

“Alright.” Monkey vaulted into the middle of the group, pressed the muzzle against the man’s forehead, and curled his finger around the trigger. “Can’t run now, can you?”

“Spare me, please, spare me…”

The man’s face crumpled completely. A pale yellow stain spread beneath him across the floor.

At that exact moment, a loudspeaker crackled to life from somewhere outside the bank.

Every head turned toward the entrance.

(End of Chapter)