Inside the safe house, Yang Qi and Song Yarong looked at each other. Miki Fukada, who still had not figured out what was going on, looked at Yang Qi, then at Song Yarong, unsure what to say.
"We probably can't make that decision ourselves..." Song Yarong said in a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "Should we ask Elder Pei?"
"...Wait." Yang Qi shook her head. "Let's see what Sun Hang says."
"Sun Hang... looks like he's going in?"
Under Yang Qi and Song Yarong's watchful eyes, Sun Hang pushed open the interrogation room door and walked inside.
He stopped before Yao Yu and stared him in the eye for several seconds. Then he drew his pistol and pressed the muzzle against Yao Yu's forehead.
Sun Hang was still carrying that 12.5-millimeter hunting pistol. Against an ordinary person, one shot would be enough to kill Yao Yu without question.
More precisely, that single shot would not only blow Yao Yu's entire head apart, but likely take out more than half of his shoulder and chest as well.
The interrogator seated behind the table tensed slightly, instinctively shrinking backward as though afraid that flying chunks of flesh and blood would splatter across his face the next second.
Only after making that instinctive movement did he realize he should stop Sun Hang. But just as he was about to stand, Sun Hang made a gesture behind his back, signaling for him to remain seated.
"Th-this..." the interrogator stammered, neither able to stand nor sit.
"Don't act rashly," Yang Qi said through his earpiece. "Sun Hang... should know where to draw the line."
"You sure?" Song Yarong eyed Yang Qi suspiciously. "Ever since we met him... I don't think he's ever really known where to draw the line..."
The corner of Yang