Chapter 86: The Assault

Aoxi strode quickly around the fence with his gun raised, slowing down as he neared the wall and carefully edging closer. Mark approached from behind, keeping some distance and covering him from a far corner.

Earlier, Aoxi hadn’t received any notification, so he didn’t know if the suspect had been killed. But he noticed that when the suspect ran, his movements paused briefly, clearly indicating he’d been hit.

Aoxi nodded to Mark, then pried half a brick from the wall and tossed it over.

The brick landed with a thud, but the suspect didn’t fire.

Gritting his teeth, Aoxi adjusted his stance and swiftly peeked around the corner. He saw the suspect lying on the ground, his rifle—an AR-type weapon—dropped nearby.

“Someone hit him. He’s down. Let’s go.”

Aoxi made a big leap to the center of the road. The suspect remained motionless on the ground.

Mark moved past Aoxi and kicked the rifle farther away.

They both shifted behind the suspect. Aoxi moved forward, kicked out both of the suspect’s hands, and handcuffed him, ensuring total safety.

“Are you guys alright?”

A police officer, seeing no activity from their side, hesitated but eventually came over.

“We’re safe. The suspect’s been shot, not sure who got him, but we’ve subdued him,” Aoxi replied.

He examined the wounds; the suspect had taken three bullets, all to the torso. No wonder he stopped moving after hiding behind the wall—barely clinging to life now.

Aoxi didn’t bother with him further and asked, “What was this guy thinking, spraying bullets at the bar for no reason?”

The officer glanced at the bar. “That place has gang connections. I don’t know which gang exactly.”

Another gang conflict—Los Angeles should just be renamed to Gang City.

They chatted idly, unconcerned about the bar’s fate. With gang affiliations, there was a good chance others there had guns too, and another firefight would be trouble.

As for whether anyone inside was injured—well, it depended on their luck. If the ambulance didn’t arrive in time, unlucky ones wouldn’t make it.

Soon, backup arrived. The suspect was hauled onto the ambulance, and officers went to check on the bar.

The bar patrons had been badly shaken—who expects bullets to start flying when you’re just drinking? But only two people were wounded; the bar’s brick walls and few windows meant the suspect hadn’t managed to fire many rounds.

“We’ve confirmed it: the rifle isn’t registered, it’s an illegal firearm. Modified with a new receiver and trigger group to become fully automatic. The suspect is identified as a member of Barrett Street. The bar is tied to Lomas 13. This was an act of revenge,” Captain Green, the leader, sighed as he looked at Aoxi. “Aoxi, you... Just head back to the station and file your reports. No more patrols tonight.”

“Alright.” Aoxi handed over his gun and gear, got in the car with Mark, and left.

“You see how he looks at me, like I enjoy shooting people. It’s just bad luck! We came to assist with a traffic check and happened to run into a shooting. What am I supposed to do? I’m just as frustrated,” Aoxi complained.

Mark drove, glanced at Aoxi, seemed about to say something, then gave up after a moment.

The four returned to the station and started writing their reports. After so many times, Aoxi was thoroughly practiced—he could draft a report without even needing a template.

As they worked, a commotion erupted in the station. Aoxi opened the door to find other officers grabbing their gear and rushing out.

He walked over to Susan and asked, “What’s happening? Something else going on?”

“Two officers tried to stop a suspicious vehicle. The driver shot at them from inside. Both were injured, the vehicle was damaged, and now everyone’s chasing the driver.”

“Should I go too?”

Susan hesitated. “Better not. Finish your report first.”

Aoxi pouted. Boring. Writing reports was really tedious.

But he had no choice—he’d fired his weapon twice that night, so a report was mandatory.

After finishing, Aoxi went straight to bed. He’d grown accustomed to the smell of the rest area.

A bunch of men sharing a room—the mix of foot odor and body scent was intense, especially with foreigners whose body odor was naturally strong, and the snoring was relentless.

But once you got used to it, the smell faded, and the sounds became easy to ignore. He slept like a log.

It was perfect for insomniacs—either you passed out from exhaustion, or your insomnia was cured outright.

He woke naturally, walked out, and saw Susan had gone to bed too. He grabbed two of her donuts and started eating. When you’re not hungry, donuts are unbearably sweet, but when you are, they quickly replenish sugar, especially with a cup of bitter iced Americano—refreshing and invigorating.

As he ate, Kales staggered in, clearly exhausted.

Seeing Aoxi eating contentedly, Kales couldn’t help but grunt.

“Want some?” Aoxi motioned.

“At least you have some decency, offering me donuts,” Kales replied, grabbing a piece and taking a big bite.

“Go ahead, I’ll get you a coffee,” Aoxi said, heading off. When he returned with two cups of coffee, he found Susan scolding Kales, “How could you eat all my donuts? That was my breakfast! I worked all night too, you know? And my coffee—you drank all my diet coffee, Kales, you’re unbelievable!”

“I only ate one. The rest were Aoxi’s...”

“Aoxi isn’t even here. You say he ate them? Just admit it!”

Aoxi decided not to get involved and drank one of the coffees himself.

Unable to explain, Kales promised to replace Susan’s donuts and coffee, took off his tactical belt, and went out to buy more.

“Why are you so upset? What happened?” Aoxi strolled over, feigning innocence. “Here’s your coffee.”

“You’re always so thoughtful, Aoxi. Not like Kales, he...”

Suddenly, rapid gunfire sounded outside the station.

Aoxi froze, then reacted instantly—tossed the coffee aside, drew his handgun from his tactical belt, and dashed out.

Outside, Kales was on the ground, clutching a bleeding wound in pain, while a black man with a pistol was running away.

Aoxi raised his gun, fired five shots at the fleeing suspect, but the distance was too great—none hit.

“Kales!”

Ignoring the suspect, Aoxi rushed to check on Kales.

“Just my luck. I went out just to buy donuts, and he shot at me the moment he saw me! Lunatic!” Kales forced a smile. “I got hit in the stomach and arm.”