42. Master of Outlines

After Chen finished speaking, he noticed the plainclothes officers glancing at him with a hint of suspicion in their eyes.

“Have you ever used a gun?” one of them asked bluntly.

“No!” Chen replied without hesitation, honest and direct. Whether inside this healing game or outside in the real world, he had never handled a firearm.

He only knew what some guns looked like, thanks to online images.

“Have you ever seen anyone in the police precinct wielding a submachine gun?” the officer asked, exasperated.

“No, but I think I could use one,” Chen said, shrugging it off. After all, this was just a game—he could do whatever made him happy! The fact that no precinct officers ever used an AK, or the recoil of such guns, all those issues were far from Chen’s concerns.

“All right, we can find you the submachine gun you want,” the middle-aged man said immediately, signaling to his colleagues beside him.

“Are you serious, boss? You’re really going to give him one?” the officer who had been speaking was stunned.

“Don’t you notice anything strange about him? That uncanny speed… And he keeps asking for a gun. Doesn’t it strike you as an obsession?” the middle-aged man whispered.

His words made the officers gasp.

Had they encountered a ghost?

But soon, someone voiced doubt. “But boss, it’s daytime!”

“I know it’s daytime, but do you know all ghosts? Are you sure they only appear at night?”

“Uh…” The doubter looked embarrassed; he couldn’t possibly know every ghost. As a member of the plainclothes unit, he’d scarcely encountered any.

Because the plainclothes group never operated at night.

“Well then, go fetch the submachine gun from the back seat. It was left by Captain Yan earlier; didn’t expect it would come in handy now.”

Chen watched the officers whispering, and just as he was about to speak, he saw one actually bring out a submachine gun.

But before reaching him, the officer suddenly stopped, then tossed the gun toward Chen.

Chen quickly caught it.

His hands sank slightly under its weight.

“So guns aren’t as light as I thought…” he murmured, a smile spreading across his face as he felt a strange gratitude toward this healing game.

“If not for this immersive experience and the lifelike detail, I might never have known what an AK truly felt like.”

The more he looked, the more he liked it.

This was worlds apart from those shooter games, where every gun felt nearly the same.

Now, it was as if he were holding a real submachine gun in his hands!

“I really want to fire a few rounds…” Chen’s eyes glinted with excitement. Just then, he saw a group of people, disheveled, running out from the woods beside the road.

They cursed loudly as they went, and suddenly one of them spotted Chen and shouted, “He’s here!”

At that, the whole group turned their attention to Chen.

He recognized them—they were the first batch of plainclothes officers he had encountered.

“Get him! Damn it, I’ll kill this bastard! Dared to mess with us!” one of them yelled furiously, charging at Chen.

Seeing this, the corners of Chen’s mouth curled upward.

“Amitabha, the world is so wonderful, yet this benefactor’s temper is so irritable. That’s not good, not good!” he said theatrically, pulling the trigger. “Let the AK Bodhisattva, healer of the dying, send this benefactor on his way!”

Rat-tat-tat!

With flames spitting forth, like a tongue of fire leaping from the barrel, a volley of bullets poured out.

Bang bang! Bang bang bang! The noise was chaotic, sparks flew from the ground, and bits of stone were chipped away.

Yet the officer charging at Chen, though pale, stood unharmed.

Chen, the master of missed shots!

After a brief silence, Chen glanced at the now-empty gun in his hands, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He tossed the gun aside and ran.

This time, he darted into the woods and promptly exited the game.

Not hitting a single target—ridiculous!

He felt too awkward to keep playing.

...

Yu Youxin stretched lazily and suddenly noticed someone appear beside her.

“Chen, you came back quickly this time!”

She swapped her gold-rimmed glasses for her original black frames. Chen glanced at the girl next to him, noticed she was starting to grow up, quickly looked away, and adopted a serious expression. “I have to work tomorrow, so just a little play is enough.”

He couldn’t be bothered to comment on her strange greeting, and instinctively ignored it.

Then he saw the girl holding an open book, and asked curiously, “What are you reading?”

“A novel!”

“What kind of novel?”

“The new top student turned out to be the jerk who stole my milk tea.”

“What?” The name stunned Chen, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Novels had names this bizarre now?

Or had the world of novel-writing become so competitive?

“Here!” The girl tossed the book to Chen.

He caught it and glanced at the cover—it read: “Love Sealed by One Milk Tea: The Naughty Top Student Falls for Me.”

He was speechless.

For some reason, he felt the ridiculous title was not as succinct as Yu Youxin’s summary.

“Is it good?” Chen asked casually. He rarely read novels, so he wasn’t adept at discussing them.

When talking to others, it was best to play to one’s strengths.

“It’s pretty good, but there’s one thing I don’t understand.” Yu Youxin nodded, her face showing deep confusion.

Chen grew curious. “What is it?”

“I’ve read several novels like this, and I’m baffled—why do the male leads always call the female leads ‘silly girl’? And the girls aren’t angry or upset, they actually seem happy?” Yu Youxin asked earnestly. “Are all female leads psychologically abnormal?”

Chen rolled his eyes.

He thought it’d be something serious, but it was just this.

“It’s meant to sound intimate,” he replied.

“Calling someone ‘silly girl’ is intimate?” the girl was astonished.

“What else, should he call her ‘stupid idiot’?”