The balding middle-aged man who could turn into a monster did not answer. Instead, he stood sideways in a slightly awkward posture and reached his left hand toward Nick, keeping his right hand hidden behind his back as he muttered over and over, "No... don't... don't kill me..."
The gesture set alarm bells ringing in Nick's head. He barked, "Turn around! Let me see your right hand! Now!"
Before he had finished speaking, something suddenly changed.
The horrifying scene from before unfolded again. A beast's mane instantly covered every patch of exposed skin on the middle-aged homeless man's body. His nose bulged and his lips curled back, sharp, densely packed teeth extending toward both cheeks. His ears shifted from the sides of his face to the top of his head, becoming pointed, upright ears like a wolf's.
It was as though some force had torn his features apart from within, then rapidly reassembled them.
This time, Nick saw everything clearly. Although the man was not as frightening as the werewolves in horror movies from his previous life, and there were no clothes-bursting effects or anything of the sort-he actually looked more like an African hyena-it proved that what Nick had seen earlier was no illusion.
Because this transformation came with sound effects: a low growl mingled with fear and warning reached his ears clearly.
That growl seemed to flip some switch inside Nick, instantly setting his blood boiling with tension, excitement, and a certain hatred-as though it were rooted in his blood!
But just as Nick felt a little startled by his own strange reaction, the monster finally revealed the right hand he had kept behind his back. In it was a revolver.
You've fucking transformed, and you're still using a gun?! The absurd incongruity of the sight made Nick roar inwardly.
Reality gave him no time to think. As the monster turned, he raised his hand and crouched, pointing the muzzle straight at Nick's head from less than seven meters away.
In a split second, Nick squeezed the Taser gun's trigger almost at the exact moment the other man pulled his own.
As the two electrode darts shot out, Nick threw himself backward with all his strength. His left hand dropped the Taser gun while his right drew his pistol from his waist, disengaged the safety, and brought it up, firing repeatedly at an unbelievable speed the instant he lost his balance!
Bang! Bang!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The shots of the Glock 22 and the revolver overlapped. The instant Nick's back hit the ground, he could even distinctly feel the searing rush of air as a bullet grazed past his forehead.
His tactical backward fall slammed him hard into the ground, but his eyes and muzzle remained locked firmly on the target. Yet as he struggled to lift his head, an ominous click came from his right hand-his compromised posture had caused him to limp-wrist the Glock 22, jamming it!
Although he was panicking inside, muscle memory formed by his experiences in his previous life and regular shooting-range practice made him instinctively clear the malfunction.
His left hand racked the pistol's slide hard. As the deformed casing flew out of the chamber, the slide returned, chambering the next round. He pulled the trigger again, and another shot rang out. The entire process took less than half a second!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunfire did not stop until Nick had emptied the entire magazine. He pressed the magazine release, dropped the magazine, and inserted a spare, his muzzle still fixed firmly on the now-motionless figure.
According to the Western fantasy works he had seen, werewolves had incredible regenerative abilities and required silver bullets to kill. But this one seemed rather weak?
The mingled smells of gunsmoke and blood spread through the air. Only after confirming it was safe did Nick get up from the ground. He immediately pressed his radio button. "10-99! Officer fired shots! Suspect down!"
"Are you all right, officer?" At that moment, helpful bystanders called out from two cars that had pulled over to watch the earlier police chase.
"I don't know!" Only then did Nick remember to check whether he had been shot. After confirming that all his parts were intact, he let out a long breath. "I think I'm fine."
Because of his strange emotional response to the monster's transformation, compounded by the adrenaline, Nick turned around in place twice in a daze before remembering that he should continue reporting to dispatch.
"Requesting medical assistance and a supervising officer on scene."
"Are you all right? Nick! Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice that Leila had been repeatedly asking about his situation over the radio.
"Uh, I'm fine. Whew. Just a little nervous." Nick moved closer to look at the monster lying motionless on the ground, only to discover in astonishment that he had returned to normal human form after death.
Nick was no rookie who had never seen blood. In his previous life, a battalion in his heavy combined-arms brigade had once carried out a special border mission where restrictions on heavy equipment had left them short of personnel and firepower.
As a result, not only had the entire mess squad-a gathering place for hidden experts-been deployed, but even the staff officers had gone to help operate drones and robotic dogs.
But what had just happened was a little too intense. He was not even sure whether what he had killed counted as human.
At that moment, quite a few people poured out of the two vehicles parked by the road to watch. One helpful citizen who got out of a pickup pulled a shotgun from the back seat and tried to come over to help.
Three people emerged at once from the other vehicle, a white SUV, including one carrying a camera and another holding a microphone. After noticing the local television station's logo painted on the SUV, Nick hurried forward and held out a hand to stop them.
"Sorry, this is a crime scene now. Please stay where you are."
"My God, did you all see that?" The female news presenter, still wearing her on-camera makeup, looked excited. After approaching close enough to see Nick's face, she seemed ready to press herself right up against him.
"This handsome, brave officer was nearly shot dead by the suspect. His reflexes were simply astonishing. Oh, no, he's practically Superman..."
Nick had to square his chest and block the camera operator and presenter. "Ma'am, please stay where you are with your colleagues."
For a moment, he could not even figure out where all these people had come from. And shouldn't they have kept their distance when they heard gunshots?
Fortunately, sirens soon sounded in the distance. Backup arrived promptly, the first to reach him being Nick's current partner, Andrew Wu, who worked the same patrol area and was training a rookie officer that day.
As his surname suggested, he was Asian, a second-generation immigrant from the Philippines. Just over 170 centimeters tall, he was more than half a head shorter than Nick, and a veteran patrol officer who had been with the PPB for nearly ten years.
"What are you standing around for? Get the tape up first and make sure everyone who doesn't belong stays outside."
"Are you okay, Nick?"
As soon as Wu got out, he directed the rookie, who was on his first day of work, to put up the police tape. He himself hurried over, took Nick's Glock 22 from him, then anxiously checked him for injuries.
"I'm fine. The suspect tried to run, and I pursued on foot. He stopped over there, raised a gun, and opened fire on me..."
Nick briefly recounted what had happened without mentioning anything about the man transforming. Although he was certain it had not been a hallucination, something like that sounded far too bizarre.
With things as they stood, his first priority was to confirm whether his use of his firearm had followed lawful procedure, especially since everything that had just happened appeared to have been recorded by the television station's camera.
Before you continue