Dude, something's really wrong with your abilities.

Chapter 28 Kestrel

The interrogation ended past midnight, and the fat man drove Chen Shi home. As they got out of the car, the fat man glanced at the dark stairwell and asked, "Should I take you upstairs?"

Chen Shi: "No need, no need, you should go back too."

The fat man glanced down at his phone and saw an unread text message from his wife. The message contained only a question mark. The fat man's expression immediately changed, and he started the car in second gear, speeding away like a wild boar.

Chen Shi walked home in the dark, took out his keys to open the door. He reached out to touch the light switch on the wall, but before his fingers even touched the button, his mind went blank, as if someone had gently tapped his brainwave frequency.

He didn't turn on the light. The curtains weren't drawn, and moonlight streamed in. A person was sitting on the living room sofa.

"Have you been having a lot of dreams lately?" the man said.

Chen Shi's hand paused on the light switch, then he pressed the button. The man sitting on the sofa was in his forties, wearing glasses and a dark gray coat, a briefcase resting on his lap. He had an ordinary appearance, easily lost in a crowd, but the way he looked at people wasn't like he was looking at a living person, but rather like he was looking at a file.

Chen Shi stood at the door without moving. "Although I don't know who you are, a good person wouldn't come visiting at this time."

The man pulled a few sheets of paper from his briefcase: "My name is Red Falcon. You may have heard of that name."

Chen Shi's pupils dilated in shock. Since he joined the bureau, every case he had handled had this name behind it—Red Falcon.

What to do? Chen Shi's first reaction was to shout loudly. He didn't know if he could run away, but he could only wake up the neighbors. However, since Hong Jun could sit calmly in his house, it seemed that the ordinary people in the neighborhood could not do anything except call the police for him.

"You interrogated Wei Sheng in less than a week after joining Group Five, and then you caught Lao Yuan. For an F-level officer to do all that isn't just luck; it's because the Bureau's evaluation system simply can't assess people like you. I have seventeen files that disappeared after being rejected by Liu Zhengfang. Guess where they are?"

"I'm not guessing. Just tell me if you want to, or I'm going to sleep."

The kestrel was clearly not used to this style and was momentarily stunned.

"What I mean is, you can't utilize your talents at the Special Abilities Bureau, but you'll be ten times stronger with us." Red Falcon waved the documents in his hand.

"Last time someone tried to poach me, at least they brought a physiotherapy bed and a technician. They pressed me down on the bed and applied ointment, and after that, they even treated me to tea. What did you bring? A few sheets of printed paper. You're not even as good as the real estate agent downstairs. At least the real estate agent gives away a rice cooker when they bring people to view the apartment."

Red Falcon found that he couldn't grasp Chen Shi's train of thought at all, as if the two were in different dimensions and it was very difficult to communicate. He tried his best to resist following Chen Shi's train of thought and continued to talk about his own.

"Your current ability can only influence other people's emotions and weaken the enemy's will, but if this ability is upgraded, it can even change other people's perceptions. Do you know what that means?"

"I just have one question. Do you contribute to the five social insurances and one housing fund? What's the contribution rate for the housing fund?"

The kestrel gritted its teeth, but still answered, "These are all negotiable."

Chen Shi waved his hand: "I don't believe it. You pay your stalkers 200 yuan a day. Even migrant workers don't get paid that much now. They can't even pay rent with that money. A food delivery order is 3.5 yuan. They can earn more by doing 30 orders than you do as a stalker. Why do they still work for you? Because you pay them cash, so they don't have to pay taxes. You're just taking advantage of their lack of math skills. I'm different. I'm very good at math."

The kestrel curled its beak slightly, an involuntary muscle reaction to the low-level noise it heard.

"Every word you just said, including the thoughts running through your mind right now, is just stalling for time. Your brainwave frequency has been decreasing while you were speaking, and the moment it drops to a level I can lock onto, you won't be able to stall anymore."

Chen Shi said, "You've caught me. Wait a minute, I have one last question: 'Do you get paid for taking annual leave?'"

The falcon raised its right hand, a visible heat wave gathering between its five fingers, followed by a burst of flame. The magazine cover on the coffee table began to curl, its edges turning charred black, and then a hole was burned through the middle of the magazine.

Chen Shi grabbed a table lamp and threw it at him. Hong Jun dodged, and the lamp bounced off the sofa back. Then the whole room was engulfed by a heatwave.

But then, a gust of cold wind swept in, freezing the curtains shut. The wind, carrying ice shards, seeped in through the cracks in the door, spreading a layer of frost on the living room floor. Before the heat radiating from Hongjun's right hand could fully materialize, Sun Tiemei had already launched an ice spear towards his chest. Hongjun dodged, the spear tip embedding itself in the sofa back, sending the entire row of springs sprung out.

Before he could even regain his footing, the second ice spear had already slipped from Sun Tiemei's grasp. His arm, engulfed in flames, slapped the ice spear away, and the spear shattered in the firelight, scattering shards of ice and sparks into the corner.

Sun Tiemei followed with the third and fourth spears, the icy spears forcing him back towards the window. The hawk shook off the ice shards from its right arm, smashed the last one away, its heel slammed into the sofa base, and it swayed.

His left shoulder had just been grazed by the spear tip, tearing his clothes and scorching the wound before it could scab over. Sun Tiemei summoned another ice spear with both hands, but this time she didn't throw it in the middle—she moved sideways, spear in hand, and thrust the spear tip straight at his left shoulder.

The kestrel retreated to the window, trying to deflect the attack with its short flame, but the spear tip had already pierced below its collarbone. He used the remaining fire energy to strike the spear tip hard, shattering the ice spear and breaking off the tip in his left shoulder.

Sun Tiemei did not retreat. She discarded her spear and grabbed his left shoulder with her right hand. Ice burst from her palm and seeped into the wound—her forearm, elbow, wrist, and fingertips were frozen into an icicle in less than a breath.

The kestrel looked down at its left arm, then grabbed the junction of the ice and muscle on its left shoulder with its right hand and twisted hard, severing the ice shell and the entire forearm. There was no blood at the break; it was frozen solid before it could spurt out.

He loosened his severed arm, pressed his right hand against the window frame, and half his body was already leaning out of the window. Sun Tiemei conjured another ice spear, its tip aimed at his back. Then she heard a sentence.

"Don't you want to know where your Uncle Yan went?"

Sun Tiemei's hand froze in mid-air. Her knuckles, gripping the spear, suddenly turned white, and the spearhead didn't push forward. The red falcon tumbled out of the window frame. A muffled thud echoed from below as a car roof was struck, and the engine roared away. Sun Tiemei remained standing by the window, her entire arm oozing icy mist; her supernatural power had gone out of control. The icy spear slipped from her hand, smashing to pieces on the floor.

Chen Shi, leaning on his cane, moved over and reached out to grasp her wrist. The moment his fingertips touched her skin, he felt a shiver from the cold. He forcefully pried her hand off the window frame and let her slide against his shoulder to sit in the corner. Her breathing was shallow, her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Chen Shi put one hand on her shoulder and took out his phone with the other to call the fat man and the emergency department.

Suddenly, he saw large tears welling up in Sun Tiemei's eyes: "He knows Yan Guang."