Sweat trickled down Clapton's forehead, the tension and surprise in his voice hard to conceal: "What do you want?"

"I'm helping you to understand the situation, Officer." Feng Bujue replied slowly, "As far as I know, the Gotham police force is severely understaffed. The casualties among your men are consequences you can't afford. Right now, we are fully prepared, and it's impossible to enter this building without alerting us. So, if you insist on a forced assault, it will inevitably come at a terrible cost."

"Also, I must point out that the bank's vault is an imported model, designed quite ingeniously. Once the power is cut, its internal ventilation system will be completely shut off. At the same time, the electronic lock on the door will randomly generate a string of numbers the moment the power goes out. At that point, the password we set will also become invalid. Only by contacting the European headquarters that manufactures this type of gate, going through a series of complex identity verification procedures, and obtaining a special decryption program to decode that random number, can the vault be reopened."

"Unfortunately, the people inside can't wait that long. As long as you cut off the power, even if you restore it immediately, it won't matter. The air won't flow back in. They will suffocate in about two minutes. After five minutes, oxygen deprivation will lead to irreversible brain damage, and after ten minutes, you'll have to consider how to explain their cause of death to the media and their families."

"Of course, you can pray for a situation where... your people, or some superhero, is powerful enough to forcibly enter here without cutting off the power and subdue us, even though we are prepared."

"Although I personally doubt that such a thing will happen, even if it does, I regret to inform you that the situation will remain unchanged."

"The lives of the hostages are still in our hands. It is impossible to forcibly open this vault with external force in thirty minutes... sorry, twenty-five minutes. Without the password we provide, you can only watch helplessly as the hostages suffocate."

"Okay, okay!" Clapton turned his head and shouted at the people next to him, "Tell the tactical team to stop their operation and stand by!" He sighed and said into the phone, "Okay, did you hear that? Are you satisfied now?"

"Yes, I heard it very clearly." Feng Bujue laughed, "A very wise choice, Officer Clapton." He paused for a second and continued, "Well... please call me again in ten minutes. At that time, I will tell you our demands." With that, he hung up the phone.

...

The bank lobby was still very bright. Although the row of glass doors at the entrance was blocked by the shutters, the lights on the ceiling were also on during the day, so it didn't make much of a difference.

Feng Bujue was standing by the counter. After he finished talking to Clapton, he put down the telephone receiver.

The gangster with the submachine gun was still pointing his gun at Feng Bujue. Of course, he wouldn't trust this strange stranger so easily. As long as Feng Bujue said half a word like a code word on the phone, he would be shot dead immediately.

The other two gangsters were a little further away, monitoring dozens of hostages who had been gathered in the center of the lobby, each holding a gun on either side of the lobby.

"I was right, wasn't I? Just a bunch of random lies and we stopped their assault." Feng Bujue shrugged and said in a relaxed tone.

"Okay, you bought us ten minutes of safety, so what? You still haven't told me how we're going to get out of here?" the gangster with the submachine gun asked. At this time, his tone had softened a bit, no longer the fierce and vicious tone it had been.

"In a hostage situation where there is a standoff with the police, the most important and basic task for the kidnappers is to first count the number of hostages." Feng Bujue replied. Before the other party could respond, he continued, "As far as I can tell, the three of you haven't done that yet, but fortunately, I've already counted them for you. Apart from you three and me, there are a total of twenty-nine people here." He held out a hand and gestured with his palm, "Could you move the gun away from my face first?"

The gangster stared into Feng Bujue's eyes for a few seconds, his eyes as if he was showing off, before slowly moving the gun away.

Feng Bujue slowly walked to the bank manager (a bald middle-aged man with glasses), poked the other party's back with his finger, "Are you the manager here?"

"Yes... yes." The manager's answer was a little trembling. A few seconds ago, he was holding his head and lying on the ground, not daring to breathe loudly. When he heard Feng Bujue's footsteps approaching, he had already become nervous. When Feng Bujue's finger touched him, he was even more frightened.

"Don't be nervous, buddy." Feng Bujue patted him on the shoulder, "I just want to ask, where are the cash bags and the plastic lock clips used to seal them?"

"Oh... in... go in through that door behind the counter, there are a lot in the warehouse..." the manager replied as he thought.

"Give me the key and the access card." Feng Bujue added.

The bald manager was stunned for two seconds before nodding and doing as he was told.

While Jue-ge was telling a story to Chief Clapton on the other end of the phone, he had already observed everyone in the lobby and deduced a lot of information based on the various details and characteristics of these people. Therefore, he knew who the bank manager was, and also knew that the keys and access cards necessary to enter and exit the employee area were in this guy's pocket.

"What are you going to do?" the cash-handling gangster asked.

"Of course, it's to better control the situation." Feng Bujue replied, "Could you please go and get those things?" As he spoke, he handed the key and the access card to the cash-handling gangster.

"When did it become your turn to order me around..." the cash-handling gangster replied unhappily.

The submachine gun gangster interrupted, "Okay, do as he says." He added, "Even if you let him go to get it, you have to follow him, right?"

The boss had spoken, and the cash-handling gangster had no choice. He glared at Feng Bujue, took the key, and walked towards the vault across the counter.

After that gangster left, the submachine gun gangster spoke again, saying two words: "Now, what?"

Feng Bujue smiled, and a golden light suddenly appeared in his hand. A shining playing card flew towards the robber who was only a few meters away from him.

At this distance, there would be no error in the accuracy of the Death Poker. The quick light flashed and cut the target's throat.

The submachine gun gangster didn't understand until he died how a deadly weapon could suddenly fly out of the hand of this unarmed man who didn't make any throwing movements.

"You!" The pistol gangster in the distance saw this scene and reacted quickly, raising his gun and shooting.

Bang, bang, bang... Gunshots rang out in succession. Feng Bujue didn't dodge or evade, but stood still. He didn't activate the [Shield] effect of the poker either, but just raised his arms to protect his face.

The development of the situation was as Feng Bujue had expected. The other party's marksmanship was indeed terrible. In a panic, he fired all the bullets in his pistol, but only two hit. The two bullets were blocked by the sound barrier of the [Echo Armor]. Although they left a blood hole each in Feng Bujue's abdomen and thigh, the wounds were not serious, and the survival value lost was only 24%.

Feng Bujue silently counted the gunshots. After the other party finished shooting a magazine of bullets, he calmly put down his arms, took out his submachine gun [Miss Moxxi's Bad Touch] from his knapsack. He ignored the guy who had run out of bullets and aimed it at the door that the cash-handling gangster had just entered. He listened to the sound of that guy running back and made a judgment, pulling the trigger at the moment when he showed his head.

"What's going on..." This sentence was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. The cash-handling gangster was shot in the face as soon as he stepped out of the door and died on the spot.

"Put down your gun." Feng Bujue had already killed two people in a row, but his expression was calm as usual. He said this to the remaining pistol gangster.

"Don't even dream about it! You bastard!" the pistol gangster shouted back. At this time, he had already hidden on the west side of the lobby, in a compartment where an ATM machine was placed (the ATM machine was embedded in the wall, and its front was a space similar to a telephone booth, one meter square, and three sides were surrounded by bulletproof glass printed with patterns. The glass door could be bolted from the inside), and began to reload his pistol.

He didn't know where Feng Bujue had taken out his weapon from, and he didn't know what had killed the boss. He only knew that this merciless guy in front of him would definitely not care about the lives of the hostages. So the gun in his hand was his last bargaining chip. Wouldn't putting it down mean he was at the mercy of others?

"I'll count to ten. If you don't come out and surrender, you won't have a chance." Feng Bujue shouted at him.

The pistol gangster's hand was shaking non-stop, affecting the efficiency of reloading. He was afraid that the other party would rush over immediately. Now that Feng Bujue told him to count to ten, he felt a little relieved and felt that he had gained some time.

"One, two, three, four..." Feng Bujue counted one number per second, timing it very accurately. In the seven seconds it took to count to seven, he did the following things: put away the submachine gun, took out the [Endless Grenade Clip] from his knapsack, took out a [Mark II Hand Grenade (Generated)] from the grenade clip, put away the [Endless Grenade Clip], pulled the pin of the grenade, and swung his arm... aiming at the unsealed compartment six or seven meters away...

"Eight..." Feng Bujue threw the grenade when he counted to this number.

The pistol gangster had already reloaded his bullets at this time, breathing heavily, and muttering to himself: "Calm down, I can do it, that guy is already injured. As long as I rush out and move faster..."

Dong, dong, pa, guruguru...

This was the sound of the grenade being thrown in from above the compartment, bouncing twice and then landing on the ground.

The pistol gangster looked at the grenade that had been pulled with the pin at his feet. After his brain short-circuited for a second, he said his last sentence in his life, which could be summarized in four letters: "Fuck."

...

Bang! A loud noise.

Even through the closed iron door, the sound of the explosion could not be concealed.

"What's going on inside? First there were gunshots, and now something exploded. Is this a terrorist attack?" Clapton couldn't wait any longer. There were still four minutes left before the agreed time, but he picked up the phone and made a gesture to his colleagues in the surveillance van.

Doo—doo—doo—

"The hostages are fine." Feng Bujue picked up the phone and said directly, "But the time hasn't arrived yet, Officer. I hate people who have no sense of time. You have to wait another ten minutes for this, and start counting again from this moment." He didn't give the other party a chance to interrupt, "If you call in advance again, I will kill a few hostages for every few minutes you call early." After he finished speaking, he hung up the phone rudely.

...

Inside the bank lobby, the hostages still didn't get up from the ground, because after Feng Bujue killed the three gangsters, he took advantage of the situation to seize the two guns from the submachine gun gangster and continued the hijacking...

"Ladies and gentlemen." Feng Bujue said as he dragged his lame leg and came behind the counter, putting away the cash-handling gangster's gun as well, "From now on, I'm in charge here. As long as you cooperate with my actions, no one will be injured."

"If everything goes well, in a few hours, you will be sitting at the dining table, sharing dinner with your family. If you're lucky, the married men present can reunite with their long-lost sex lives tonight." His tone was as if he was joking with a group of familiar friends, with no hint of intimidation, "However, if anyone refuses to cooperate with me, or even tries to obstruct me..." He pushed a wheeled office chair to the outside of the counter, sat on it, and said with a gun, "I will shoot at all living things in sight until the ammunition is exhausted." He paused for a few seconds, scanned the expressions on the faces of the hostages, and then said, "Understood?"

The hostages never expected that after three stupid thieves had just died, another anti-human lunatic would emerge. No one dared to meet his gaze, and no one dared to answer the question directly. Some hostages were already murmuring God's blessing with tears in their eyes.

"Okay, now, that lady in the beige coat, yes, you." Feng Bujue said, "Please look up, okay?"

That was a blonde woman in her thirties, with ordinary looks. The makeup on her face had already been cried off, and there was some vomit on her chest. Hearing this, she raised her head and looked at Feng Bujue, replying with a face full of fear: "Please... please don't hurt me..."

"Don't worry, ma'am, I don't want to hurt anyone." Feng Bujue said, "I noticed that there is a brown handbag on the ground to your left. I think that's yours, right?"

The woman turned her head and glanced at the bag, then replied, "Yes... yes... you can take anything you want... just... don't hurt me."

"I want to ask, ma'am, did you bring your makeup bag today?"

"What?" She was stunned for a moment when she heard this, but she was afraid that answering slowly would anger Feng Bujue, so she immediately replied, "Yes... I did."

"In your makeup bag, do you have eyebrow tweezers?"

"Yes... I do."

"Then, please go over there now, open that bag, find your makeup bag, take out the tweezers from inside, and hand them to me." Feng Bujue paused and added, "Don't worry, no one is urging you. I don't want you to mess things up because of panic."

The woman quickly got the tweezers and handed them to Feng Bujue tremblingly.

Feng Bujue took the things and said with a smile, "Thank you, please go back to your original position and lie down, let me see your hands."

After she lay back, Feng Bujue turned his head and found the bald manager, and said, "Mr. Manager, please come here too."

The bank manager looked around, and no one responded. It seemed that he was the one being called. He had no choice but to stand up and walk over.

"Thirty cash bags, sixty plastic lock clips, please go and get them for me." Feng Bujue said, and pointed to the body of the cash-handling gangster, "The keys and the access card are on him. I don't think he will mind if you take them back." He made a gesture of invitation, tilted his head, "Go."

The body of the cash-handling gangster was lying under the door frame behind the counter, so it was convenient to walk over there. The bank manager mustered up his courage, picked up the keys and the access card from the guy whose head had been shot into a honeycomb, and walked towards the warehouse.

"Oh, by the way." Feng Bujue reminded loudly, "Don't make me wait too long, otherwise... you know."

"Yes... understood." The bank manager responded and trotted to get the things.

"Hey, that gentleman in the suit, yes, you, please give me your lighter, thank you." Feng Bujue said to another hostage. He could tell that the man was a smoker just from his right hand's fingernails. In fact, through observation, he had obtained all kinds of information from these twenty-nine people, such as their occupation, marital status, living habits, hobbies, and so on...

Feng Bujue put the gun within reach, slightly roasted the tweezers with the lighter, pried open the wound and took out the bullet, calmly clamped out the shrapnel and some of his own shredded meat together...

All the hostages who raised their eyes to peek at him were stunned. How could they know that the player's pain was weakened? Everyone exclaimed in their hearts: This is really a man...

Feng Bujue quickly took out the two bullets and didn't bandage the wound. The [Bleeding] effect in his status bar stopped on its own. He glanced at his survival value, which was still 68%, so there was no need to rush to recover for the time being.

At this time, the bank manager also came back with a pile of cash bags and plastic lock clips. He put these things on the ground in front of Feng Bujue and asked, "Is there anything else you need, sir?"

Feng Bujue gestured with his eyes to the location of the other hostages: "Use the lock clips to tie their hands behind their backs, tie their feet together, and then put the cash bags over their heads."

...

Another ten minutes passed. This time it was a full ten minutes. After the police technicians were all ready, Clapton picked up the phone and dialed the number for the bank lobby.

It rang four times before Feng Bujue picked it up: "You're very punctual this time, Officer."

"How are the hostages in the vault? Are they still alive?" Clapton asked, "What exactly do you want? You can't escape, understand? Listen... I know you weren't the one who killed the hostages just now, buddy, you're a smart man. If you persuade your accomplices to come out and surrender with you, I can plead with the judge on your behalf." When he said the second half of the sentence, he deliberately lowered his voice, as if this deal was really promising.

"Hehe... that sounds like a very tempting condition, but... between a fixed-term imprisonment and being at large, I think the latter is obviously more tempting. Anyway, I have the password to the vault. Before the hostages are rescued... or... all die, you can't shoot and kill me, can you? Haha..." He laughed triumphantly. This lie that he came up with on the spur of the moment was indeed a good talisman.

At the same time, the closed bank door actually opened again.

As the roller shutter slowly rose, the scene that appeared in front of the police was...