Veteran officer Liu Changshan stood with his arms crossed, his hawk-like eyes fixed unblinkingly on Zhang Songyang, who was handcuffed to the interrogation chair.
“Officer, I swear—I’m really here to turn myself in.” Zhang Songyang was a mess of tears and snot, his voice cracking. “I’m not here to cause trouble—I don’t have the guts for that! You’ve gotta believe me…”
Watching this blubbering wreck of a man who looked nothing like a dangerous extremist, Liu Changshan began to wonder if they’d jumped to conclusions.
“Liu, we’ve checked it out. It’s a genuine Desert Eagle—but those went out of production years ago. This one, though, looks brand new. Also, there are signs it’s been fired—one round is missing,” the reporting officer murmured.
Liu Changshan’s pupils dilated, then contracted sharply.
A real Desert Eagle?
No wonder it felt so heavy when they picked it up—way heavier than a standard handgun.
But his colleague was right: the Desert Eagle had been discontinued long ago. So where the hell did Zhang Songyang get this one? One thing was certain—anyone who could get their hands on a firearm like that wasn’t an ordinary person. And this case was clearly far from simple.
He was about to speak when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and hit answer.
“Chief, we went into Unit 501—nobody there. Preliminary suspicion is it’s a false alarm.”
Liu Changshan heard every word, and since the phone was on speaker, Zhang Songyang caught part of it too. He immediately pointed at himself, eyes wide. “That was me! I made that call! That was my call!”
“You made the call?” Liu Changshan blinked, then spoke into the phone. “Head back for now.”
He hung up and turned to Zhang Songyang, barely containing his anger. “If you called the police, why didn’t you just wait at home for our officers to show up? Why come all the way to the station—and bring a gun with you?!”
When he’d first heard the news, he’d been completely floored.
I mean, this was a police station! Someone actually had the nerve to barge in armed in the dead of night. Just thinking about it made his blood run cold—this couldn’t possibly be a run-of-the-mill incident. Something major was brewing.
But then he got here, and the guy claimed he wanted to turn himself in. Liu Changshan was thoroughly confused.
“Officer, I really am here to surrender! I—I called for help and was waiting at home, but then several people came knocking, and I got so scared I thought it was better to come to the station myself.
That gun—that gun is proof! Proof that someone’s trying to kill me!” Zhang Songyang pointed at the Desert Eagle, his eyes wild with terror.
Liu Changshan nodded and gestured to the recording officer to start taking notes. “Alright, give us the full story.”
“Yes, sir. Here’s what happened—I, uh, I’m a scammer. About a month ago, I ripped off some big-shot underworld figure—I swindled him out of nearly four hundred thousand yuan…”
As Zhang Songyang recounted the whole ordeal, both Liu Changshan and the recording officer furrowed their brows.
In this country, firearms were strictly prohibited. Apart from law enforcement, the military, and other authorized departments, ordinary citizens couldn’t get their hands on guns—period.
But this Desert Eagle was undeniably real. And despite being long out of production, it looked factory-new. That alone made Liu Changshan deeply suspicious.
Still, he didn’t think Zhang Songyang was lying.
The guy was scared shitless—crying, blubbering, and desperate enough to run straight to the police station to turn himself in. That kind of fear wasn’t something you could fake. Under those circumstances, there was no way he was making this up.
“Officer, just lock me up already! I feel like the only place I’ll be safe is in prison! Please, I’m begging you—don’t let me go!” Zhang Songyang wailed.
Liu Changshan’s eye twitched. “Even if you hadn’t asked, we’d still be arresting you.”
With fraud totaling over a million yuan, under the law, Zhang Songyang was definitely looking at prison time.
“But the law has its own procedures,” Liu Changshan said flatly. “You don’t just get arrested because you asked nicely. Wait here.” With that, he turned and walked out of the interrogation room.
“Chief Liu, do you think that scammer’s story is legit?” another officer asked, sidling up to him.
Liu Changshan shook his head. “Hard to say. But that gun is real…”
And that was exactly the problem. The fact that the Desert Eagle was genuine was what made it so hard for him to make a call—and what made him feel like there was more to this case than met the eye.
“Oh, by the way—has the chief arrived?” Liu Changshan asked.
“Yeah, he’s waiting in the conference room.”
“Good. I’ll be there in a bit. Xiao Zhang, come with me—I need to look something up first.”
“On it, Chief Liu.”
——-
Back at the workstations.
Liu Changshan and the young officer, Xiao Zhang, were staring intently at the computer screen, both wearing expressions of bewilderment.
“Xiao Zhang, are you sure this is the person the scammer was talking about?” Liu Changshan asked, his tone uncertain.
Xiao Zhang scratched his head. “Yeah, no doubt about it, Chief. Jiang Chuan—phone number matches, age matches, and all the details line up with what the scammer said. No discrepancies.”
“That’s… really strange…” Liu Changshan was baffled.
According to the records they’d pulled up, Jiang Chuan was a young man in his twenties. Both his parents were alive, his family background was average, and he’d never lived in any big house or driven any luxury cars.
His academic performance wasn’t remarkable—actually, it was kind of poor. He was quiet, kept to himself, and didn’t have many friends. On top of that, he was currently unemployed.
A guy like that would blend right into a crowd—unremarkable in every way, except maybe for his looks.
Liu Changshan found it hard to believe that someone like this could be the mastermind of an underworld organization. He was too young, and his background just didn’t fit the profile.
Plus, according to the records, Jiang Chuan had barely even left the city over the years, let alone traveled abroad. That was all documented.
Unless, of course, Jiang Chuan had somehow used some method to erase or alter the police department’s internal records.
But from what Liu Changshan knew about their system, even skilled hackers would have a hard time cracking it—let alone finding the entry point. Tampering with the data was practically impossible.
“Yeah, it’s odd. If the scammer’s story is true, someone named Jiang Chuan shouldn’t have such a clean record,” Xiao Zhang agreed.
Could it be a misunderstanding? Maybe the Desert Eagle wasn’t sent by this Jiang Chuan guy after all?
But that didn’t add up either. The scammer had clearly stated that Jiang Chuan had messaged him right after he received the gun.
If it was a misunderstanding, it still didn’t make sense.
Liu Changshan rubbed the stubble on his chin, narrowing his eyes. “Alright, print out the file for me.”
“You got it, Chief Liu.”
