Chapter Thirty-Three: Pursuit of the Killer in

Wang Yining adamantly refused to get out of the car, while the middle-aged man repeatedly begged to be taken along in pursuit. This not only put all three of them in danger but also seriously affected the car's speed—yet, what else could they do?

Mo Shu felt utterly helpless.

“Then fasten your seatbelts!” Mo Shu shouted at the two of them, slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the car shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

“Wow! I didn't expect this thing to have so much power!” Mo Shu exclaimed, delighted.

It was past midnight, and the road was nearly empty—hardly a car in sight, and even fewer pedestrians. Mo Shu quickly caught up with the vehicles ahead.

He saw that the silver-gray sedan was moving at a fierce pace, weaving left and right, locked in a cat-and-mouse game with the police. Of course, the police weren’t amateurs; several times, they nearly boxed the fugitive in, forcing him to a halt in the middle of the road. But criminals are unpredictable—he’d either crash through the median or swerve into the non-motorized lane. Clearly, the concept of “safety” didn’t exist in the fugitive’s mind.

“Mo Shu, let’s go!” Wang Yining proved to be courageous at the crucial moment.

“The problem is, there are too many surveillance cameras on the road,” Mo Shu replied, alternately braking to control the speed and slipping through green lights at intersections, driving with extreme caution.

“Come on, kid, hurry up! My car’s about to be turned into a tin can…” the man in the back seat urged anxiously.

“Uncle, stop adding to the chaos! Sit tight and don’t move around!” Mo Shu shot a glare at the man through the rearview mirror—after all, when the hefty traffic fines arrived, that man wouldn’t be the one paying.

So Mo Shu and his passengers sped after the three cars ahead. Suddenly, with a loud clang, one of the police vehicles was forced onto the median by the fugitive and broke down. A seasoned middle-aged officer crawled out of the car.

Mo Shu pulled over, and Wang Yining waved frantically. “Officer, get in our car!”

Though he was middle-aged, the officer was agile—he leapt into the back seat in two quick strides and slapped Mo Shu’s seat. “Young man, keep up with that silver-gray sedan as safely as possible—I need to support my colleagues!”

The middle-aged man beside him grumbled, “Officer, you’d better not count on it. This kid drives like a grandma.”

“I say, what’s with you, old man? We gave you a lift, and you’re still so rude. Do you even know who he is?” Wang Yining protested, then turned to the officer. “Officer, if we help you catch the bad guy, can you make sure we don’t get fined for traffic violations?”

“Technically, we detectives and the traffic police are different branches, but we’re all part of the same system. If you get a ticket, I’ll apply to have it withdrawn for you,” the officer promised, thumping his chest. He quickly added, “But don’t go overboard—minimize losses and pay attention to public safety.”

Wang Yining smugly patted Mo Shu. “Let’s stop the criminal, Mo God! We’ve got official authorization now.”

Mo Shu nodded. “Officer, you should buckle up too!”

In his rush, the officer had forgotten all about the seatbelt. He reached back to fasten it, but just then, the car surged forward, pinning him firmly against his seat.

“Whoa, whoa! Slow down, kid! My heart can’t take it!” The man who’d been so critical moments ago now shouted in panic, desperately grabbing at anything he could hold onto.

“If we keep going straight, do we reach the Nanshan Cross-Sea Bridge ramp?” Mo Shu asked as he drove.

“Yes, it’s just about a kilometer ahead,” the officer and Wang Yining replied in unison.

“Good. We’ll settle this on the ramp,” Mo Shu muttered under his breath.

To be honest, if the car ahead hadn’t been driven by a criminal, Mo Shu might have admired the driver’s skill and nerve. Even with two police cars in hot pursuit, the fugitive had managed to shake them off several times. If he weren’t on the wrong side of the law, he might have real talent as a driver.

Still, professionals are professionals, and even drivers are no exception. In terms of speed and skill, the gap between Mo Shu’s group and the fugitive was like that between a grade-schooler and a university student.

The entrance to the Nanshan Cross-Sea Bridge ramp appeared in the distance. Mo Shu sped past the police car—he’d have to follow the fugitive closely onto the ramp. Once on the ramp, Mo Shu remembered clearly that halfway along, the road split into two branches: an ascending ramp eastward and a descending ramp westward. His goal was to force the fugitive onto the descending ramp, since that section was still under construction.

He’d seen a notice about it on the Nanshan traffic update account just yesterday—the construction company wouldn’t have torn down those three towering barricades overnight.

As for how to force the fugitive onto the descending ramp, there were many ways—the simplest and most effective would be to ram him. But Mo Shu quickly abandoned that idea.

After all, besides himself, there were three passengers in the car, and the fugitive was driving the middle-aged man’s vehicle. If he totaled the man’s car, the guy would never let him live it down.

So Mo Shu switched to plan two.

“Tank Aura!”

He didn’t dare ram the other car, but theirs was much sturdier, and with Wang Yining present, that made things much easier.

Mo Shu caught Wang Yining’s eye; they exchanged a knowing glance. Wang Yining gripped the seat edge with one hand and the side handle with the other, nodding at Mo Shu.

“Everyone in the back, hold on tight! We’re going to hit the barrier head-on!”

Mo Shu shouted a warning as he downshifted, floored the accelerator, and jerked the wheel. The battered little car shuddered violently, drifting through the narrow ramp.

Up ahead, the fugitive suddenly heard a fierce engine roar and saw, in his rearview mirror, a sight that made his heart lurch—a battered little car drifting straight toward him as if out of an action movie.

In a panic, the fugitive tried to change course and shake off his pursuer, but it was too late.

Mo Shu’s car, sliding in a highly unusual drift, closed in on his flank, forcing him forward with no room for choice.

Bang!

The fugitive tried to swerve and force Mo Shu away, but no matter how hard he tried, Mo Shu’s car maintained a perfect forty-five-degree angle, sliding parallel and blocking his path, utterly unmoved.

With no other option, the fugitive pressed on, cursing at Mo Shu through the window as he floored the accelerator and plunged into the descending ramp.

“Hang on!” Mo Shu, seeing his plan succeed, slammed both the handbrake and footbrake—he had to slow down.

But the car was now perilously close to the concrete divider at the ramp split, and still moving fast. He’d never expected to dodge it, so he braced himself and crashed straight into it, taking the impact on the side closest to himself to protect his passengers.

The violent crash shook the bridge itself; shattered chunks of concrete flew across the hood.

“Ugh… Is everyone alright?” Mo Shu felt dizzy, seeing stars.

To keep the others safe, he’d taken the brunt of the collision.

“My god, you’re fierce, young man, but we’re all fine…” The officer checked Wang Yining and gave the middle-aged man a squeeze before breathing a sigh of relief.

“Was the fugitive caught?” Mo Shu’s second concern was this.

“They must have been,” the officer replied with ease—he’d heard shouts from the ramp: “Out of the car! Don’t move! Stay where you are!” There was no need to rush in.

“Good…” Mo Shu’s dizziness swelled again. Leaning on Wang Yining, he slipped into unconsciousness.