Chapter 3 The Call to the Police

"Help! Help!" The voice grew weaker and hoarser. Instantly, countless eyes turned toward the source of the sound, and screams echoed. "Stay back! Stay back, or I'll kill her!" "Oh my God, her face is turning purple!" "Not good, she's fainted!" Irene frowned, parked her bike by the roadside, and deftly squeezed into the crowd. A tall white man in a plaid shirt was holding a girl hostage, a gun pressed tightly against her forehead, his hand choking her neck. The girl was half-unconscious, in a very dangerous state. "I've called the police! They're on their way!" "Back off! Back off!" The man shouted frantically, tightening his grip. The crowd scattered, leaving only Irene stepping forward. For Irene, this was no big deal. All it would take was a quick dash, a flying kick, and she could disarm him barehanded. At that moment, someone suddenly grabbed her sleeve and pulled her back several steps. "Stop! The suspect is already agitated! How can you further provoke him?" a police officer shouted angrily at Irene. "Yeah, wait for the SWAT team. What can a little girl do?" Irene ignored him and was about to step forward again when the officer cursed at her, "I'm an FBI agent! Not some street patrol cop! You better listen to me! You're neither a cop nor a soldier! Be careful, acting on your own has consequences!" Irene found him annoying. The officer, never before ignored like this, was furious. "Even others know to leave professional work to professionals! I bet you're just here to film it and get some online fame!" Irene turned back, glaring coldly. Her presence made the officer step back a few paces. "Wait for the police? By the time they get here, the hostage will be dead! Is that what your superiors taught you?" "Negotiate with the suspect! Who said we just wait? You better shut up! Don't hinder my work!" Irene smirked, glancing at the suspect, who was nervously looking around and slowly moving backward, trying to escape. Seeing this, Irene decided to end it quickly. She gave the officer a cold look that made him shiver. How could such a young girl have such a chilling gaze and commanding presence? "Can't you tell his gun is fake? There's no way it has bullets!" The officer was enraged, "How can you tell without holding it? Stop lying! Go home and play with your dolls!" He was the most knowledgeable about firearms among the new FBI recruits! How dare a high schooler talk to him like that! The officer glared at Irene, eyes red with anger. "The gun he's holding is a Y-UI872 model made in 1951 in Country D, used by 17th-century D nobles to hunt elephants. It's a vintage gun! Not to mention if it has suitable bullets, even if it did, the weight of the gun plus bullets makes it impossible for him to hold it with one hand! When firing, the gun's stock must be against the shoulder to absorb the recoil, and only someone with developed muscles can handle it; otherwise, their shoulder would be torn apart!" "One hand can't fire the gun!" The officer was stunned. The onlookers started to sneer, "FBI? They're just a bunch of useless people wasting taxpayer money!" "This FBI guy isn't impressive. Must be a newbie! I still believe in the FBI, but they really need to vet their recruits better. What trash." The officer couldn't bear the insult. "If she's so capable, why isn't she a cop protecting you?" Someone chuckled, "You can't represent all cops, let alone the FBI." The officer looked back, seeing Irene staring intently at the suspect. She said coldly, "Move aside! The guy is about to escape!" Irene despised incompetent people pretending to be capable. If you don't know, admit it, but don't act all-knowing! "Fine, go ahead. But don't blame me if things go wrong. That guy is nearly six and a half feet tall and weighs almost two hundred pounds. If you catch him, I'll apologize!" The officer spoke mockingly, his tone filled with malice. Before he finished, Irene moved like a swift leopard, bursting with incredible speed. No one saw her move clearly. In an instant, the girl was freed, falling to the ground, and the suspect's heavy gun dropped with a thud. Just as Irene said, the gun was so heavy that the suspect couldn't hold it with one hand. The crowd gasped! The officer was stunned, "How did she do that? How is that possible with such a size difference?" The suspect resisted fiercely, but Irene delivered a sharp elbow to his temple. The officer's expression was priceless. The temple is the thinnest, most fragile part of the body. Irene knocked the suspect out without causing severe harm, showing precise control! This wasn't just about technique; it required extensive practical experience! Everyone's eyes widened. Then, cheers erupted on the street. "Amazing! I couldn't even see her move!" "Oh my God! That guy is over two hundred pounds! And this girl—she barely weighs sixty pounds? Incredible!" Irene checked the hostage, confirming she was just unconscious and not seriously injured. She sighed with relief and said, "It's fine now. Just wait for the police and ambulance." At that moment, the officer suddenly drew his gun and pointed it at Irene, shouting, "Tell me! Are you a spy? How do you know so much about our country's affairs?" A young man in the crowd retorted, "Is this supposed to be a state secret? Can't you just look it up online? My family sells weapons, so I know! You just don't want to apologize, right?" The officer sneered, "None of your business! Your family sells weapons? I see, you provided her with state secrets! You two are here for a rendezvous! Come with me to the station! Or I'll shoot!" Irene's expression turned dark. She was about to move when the crowd surrounded her, shielding her with their bodies. "Your reasoning is too far-fetched! We saw everything clearly!" "It's not about who has the gun being right!" Someone even drew a gun and aimed it silently at the officer. The officer's veins bulged, and he sneered cruelly, "It's my duty to enforce the law now. You threaten me, and I'm legally allowed to shoot!" In other words, he was saying that killing them wouldn't be illegal, and if they kept resisting, he'd open fire!