Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

At this moment, Yuan Zhensheng was already in place.

A few minutes earlier, he took a tram to a high-rise building a kilometer away, took the elevator directly to the top floor, set up his rifle, and adjusted the high-powered scope.

He placed a pinwheel next to the railing, aimed at the bank wall, and fired. He timed the shot; the flight time was 1.3 seconds. His own reaction time was 150 milliseconds. Subtracting the reaction time delay, the actual flight time was about 1.29 seconds.

The silencer works well; there's only a muffled "poof" sound.

The bullet's impact point deviated from the crosshairs of the scope. Yuan Zhensheng used a screwdriver to adjust the scope, aimed at the wall again, and pulled the trigger. This time, there was only a slight deviation, caused by the wind speed.

almost.

Yuan Zhensheng leaned close to the sniper scope, the cold metallic touch against his eye socket. Through the high-powered scope, the street below was rapidly zoomed in and magnified.

He could clearly see that behind the perimeter cordon of the bank, fully armed mobile team members had begun their final assembly and equipment checks.

Several team members dressed in dark combat uniforms, wearing helmets and bulletproof masks, were unloading a retractable ladder and breaching tools from an armored vehicle painted with the word "SAT".

The team members moved swiftly and silently, communicating with each other using hand gestures. Several snipers had already spread out, searching for their respective sniping positions, their gun barrels vaguely pointed in different directions from the bank.

Behind a bunker closer to the bank, the negotiator's vehicle remained parked, but the negotiator himself had retreated to the police command area.

Beside the command vehicle, the director and several senior officials were talking rapidly to a map and radio, their expressions grim, occasionally glancing up at the bank's closed doors and drawn blinds.

Through the crosshairs of the scope, Yuan Zhensheng scanned the area around the bank's main entrance. He saw the makeshift bulletproof shields and the SWAT team members already in positions, vaguely forming an assault formation.

What about people?

He didn't see Shinomiya Masakazu.

Seriously? You're such a coward? Aren't you afraid of ruining your reputation?

Hara Masaki vaguely sensed that something had gone wrong with the plan. He reached out and pressed the button on the radio that was lying to the side, changed the channel with one hand, and found the hot news. At that moment, it was playing Shinomiya Masakazu's impassioned speech.

Wow, that's shameless! He can brag about something like that; no wonder he became a member of parliament…

He had expected this, or rather, the fact that things went so smoothly was somewhat unexpected—in his mind, the brat should have shown his true colors long ago, or it would have been a misunderstanding as soon as he left.

He had prepared contingency plans for all kinds of unexpected situations, including the one where Shinomiya Masakazu did not appear at the bank entrance.

Yuan Zhensheng immediately put away his gun, took down the windmill, dragged his suitcase, walked to the other side of the rooftop, and repeated the previous procedure—measuring wind speed, firing rate, and offset.

He chose this building for a reason: it offers views of both the bank's entrance and the Empire Hotel lobby.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, after resolving the bank robbery case, Masakazu Shinomiya will hold a press conference at the Imperial Hotel.

……

"action!"

At the command of the on-site commander, the mobile team, which was already in position, immediately launched an assault.

At the bank's front entrance, two team members slammed a hammer into the roller shutter door, creating a deafening crash. At the same time, a team from the side and rear used a retractable ladder to quickly climb to the second floor and forcibly pried open a ventilation window with specialized tools.

The frontal attack and the flank assault were carried out almost simultaneously, allowing them to break into the bank with lightning speed.

"Police! Drop your weapons!"

"Everyone stay where you are! Repeat, everyone stay where you are!"

A deafening roar accompanied the team members as they swiftly entered the building, the beams of tactical flashlights piercing the relatively dim light inside the bank and sweeping across every corner.

However, the expected resistance did not occur.

Inside the bank lobby, dozens of customers and bank employees remained crouched on the ground with their heads in their hands, their bodies bound with plastic cable ties, and many of them looked completely bewildered.

There was no one around them—no fierce robbers with rifles, and certainly no Shinomiya Rin, the patrolman whose story had been widely circulated.

A team member quickly stepped forward and carefully cut the cable ties on a customer's wrist with a tactical knife.

"Where are the robbers?" he asked urgently.

The customer, still shaken, pointed with trembling hands to the end of the corridor leading to the restroom: "That...that big guy with the rifle...he said he was going to the restroom...he hasn't been back for a long time...and then...and then there was that kid..."

"Child?"

"Yes, yes... a kid wearing an Ultraman mask... he was holding a gun and said he was watching us... we didn't dare move..."

The team leader in charge of the operation felt a chill and immediately ordered over the radio: "Search all rooms! Be careful!"

The team members quickly and systematically launched the search.

They quickly found the discarded bandit hat and a jacket in the toilet stall, but no one—the brat wearing the Ultraman mask was soon found on the luxurious chair in the manager's office.

He was urinating in his luxurious chair when a group of fully armed police officers rushed in. He frantically raised his toy gun and yelled, "Don't move!"

A team member rushed forward, tackled him to the ground, and snatched the weapon from his hand, confirming that it was just a well-made plastic toy gun.

The team member removed his Ultraman mask, revealing a freckled, mischievous face that looked no more than seven or eight years old.

The riot police officers dragged the trouserless kid away from the bank and brought him into the command room for questioning. They then learned that the kid knew nothing—the real robbers had already left the bank.

Soon, the other team members rescued all the hostages and confirmed that no one was injured—except for the unlucky guy who was shot in the leg by Genji at the door, who had already been taken away by ambulance.

A preliminary count revealed that the bank vault was intact and no cash was missing. The alleged robbery appeared to be a meticulously planned farce, with its core purpose seemingly not being money at all.

The news spread quickly to the surrounding areas.

When the commissioner and senior officials at the scene learned that there were only a group of hostages bound with plastic zip ties and a child with a toy gun inside the bank, their expressions turned extremely grim.

Reporters present at the scene caught this information through various channels, which sparked a new round of commotion and speculation—they suspected that Shinomiya Masakazu had protected his daughter and secretly taken away the robber Shinomiya Rin.

As usual, Masakazu Shinomiya took public relations action, holding a press conference at the Empire State Building in an attempt to clarify the rumor.

Half an hour later, the lobby was bustling with people, reporters filled the seats, and flashbulbs were constantly going off. Among them was a white reflective spot that came from the rooftop of a high-rise building 1,500 meters away.

The windmill whirred beside the railing, producing a faint whooshing sound. Yuan Zhensheng adjusted his breathing, his index finger hovering over the trigger guard, a chilling killing intent silently permeating the wind on the top floor of the high-rise.

"Got you." He muttered to himself.