Chapter 268 Cloak Scramble (4)

A hostage stood in front of the bank's front door. His hands and feet were bound by small but tight plastic zip ties, and a cash bag was over his head.

The bank's glass doors opened and closed automatically to the sides; as soon as someone approached the entrance, sensors would trigger them. Thus, the hostage's presence kept the glass doors perpetually open.

Looking into the bank lobby from the street, the police could no longer see any of the other hostages; only this one person remained in view.

Two bodies lay on the floor; one was dead at the front door, the hostage shot by the submachine gun-wielding bandit earlier; the other was lying next to the counter, identity unknown. The police didn't know if the extra corpse was a hostage, nor did they know how he died, but the preliminary assessment was…that it was certainly related to the earlier gunfire and explosions.

As for the corpse of the bandit who’d been packing the money, and the area where the handgun bandit had been blown up, they were not visible from outside.

"I imagine you have binoculars handy, officer," Feng Bujue said at this time.

Clapton had no idea what the robber was up to, he just replied, "Yes."

"Pick them up and look over here at the counter," Feng Bujue said.

Clapton didn't hang up the phone. He gestured for an officer next to him to hand him a pair of binoculars.

From his position, he could observe the entire counter, but Feng Bujue had already ducked inside the counter. The telephone on the counter was naturally pulled down with him. "Can you see me?" He raised an arm, so that his right hand was above the counter's surface, and waved it left and right a few times.

"Yes, what do you want to do next? Give me the finger?" Clapton replied.

"Heh…I can only show you my hand, officer," Feng Bujue laughed. "Since the glass doors are being held open, that means your snipers can shoot bullets in. Although I have the vault's password as a bargaining chip, exposing my head to a rifle scope is a risk I'm extremely unwilling to take."

"Alright, what exactly do you want? It's been almost twenty minutes since you locked the hostages in the vault, and you still haven't told me…"

"I want to give you a gift, officer," Feng Bujue interrupted Clapton.

The officer was taken aback for a moment, "Are you saying… you're going to release the hostage at the door? Good… then I'll have my men come over to pick…"

"If your men dare to approach, I'll shoot this guy at the door," Feng Bujue said.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm having him stand there just to keep the glass doors open," Feng Bujue said with a smile. "That way, I can hand you the gift." As he spoke, a rather large square object slowly rose from inside the counter.

Clapton, who was watching through the binoculars, couldn't believe his eyes.

"This is one cubic foot of twenty-dollar bills, tied up with paper tape." Feng Bujue was naturally not holding the object up with his hands, he was using the levitation function of the [Anti-Gravity Ejector].

"What are you going to do…" Clapton had a bad feeling.

"I'm going to… do this…" Feng Bujue said, aiming at the right angle and firing the "cash cannon" out.

The pile of money flew over the hostage's head at the door and out of the bank at a sloping angle. As it flew through the air, hundreds of bills scattered out, attracting the attention of every policeman, reporter, and civilian on the street.

The money bomb drew a charming arc in the air, and finally hit the outer wall of the building across the street, scattering at a height of about three or four stories…

At this time, a light breeze blew, and the banknotes… scattered across the entire street.

Five seconds, ten seconds…

People didn't take long to react, and when a few people in the crowd behind the police line took the lead in reaching out to catch the money, the loss of control was inevitable.

Soon, only the area directly in front of the bank, surrounded by police cars, was unaffected. But within dozens of meters around, hundreds of civilians and reporters broke through the police line to pick up money, and even the policemen who were supposed to stop these people quietly bent down.

"Hahahaha…" Wild laughter came from the other end of the phone, "Dogs of capitalism! Taste the sugar-coated bullets!"

"Are you crazy? Do you know what you're doing!" Clapton roared in anger, unable to bear it any longer. "You're not a robber! You're a terrorist! Who exactly are you? What organization do you belong to?"

"Haha… I'm Bill Gates!" Feng Bujue blurted out nonsense, laughing wildly. "I bring you the most sincere greetings from Andrew Jackson (seventh President of the United States, whose portrait is printed on the 20-dollar bill)!" As he spoke, he sucked up a second "cash bomb" and quickly launched it out.

After the second money bomb exploded, the street was completely chaotic. After all… policemen are also human, and Gotham City's policemen are even more so high-pressure and high-risk profession, who can guarantee that they won't be tempted? Before long, even the area in front of the bank's front door was infiltrated by many civilians. Some bent down to search the ground, some waved their hands in the air to grab at random, and each of them was already holding a lot in their arms.

In addition, because the banknotes were all new, they could float in the air for a long time. It was as if someone had launched a colored cannon into the sky, with colorful paper everywhere and a crowd of revelers all over the ground, rendering all the snipers in place useless.

"Don't mind the money! Hold your positions!" Clapton picked up the loudspeaker by his side and roared, "Watch the bank's front door for me! Don't relax."

Whether we admit it or not, most people in this world are like this - when other people pick up money, they also pick up money; when other people jaywalk, they also jaywalk; when other people spit on the ground, they also spit on the ground; finally, when other people go to Yasukuni Shrine to set fires, they think about it and smash a Japanese car on the street.

However, there is also a minority of people in this world who are another kind of person. Perhaps in normal times, they will also jaywalk or spit, but at critical moments, they can hold the line.

At this moment, more than half of the policemen at the bank's front door were still guarding their posts, highly focused, regarding the money rain as nothing, and trying their best to maintain order and pay attention to the movements inside the bank's front door. These people knew very well what should be done. If they all rushed to grab the stolen money, letting the robbers in the bank take the opportunity to rush out, the consequences would be even more unimaginable.

"Do you like my gift, officer?" Feng Bujue's voice came from the receiver again, "It's not over yet…" As he spoke, he launched a third pile of banknotes. After firing this shot, he said, "The warm-up is almost done, let's play a guessing game." He paused for a moment, "Now, I will release some hostages, and among these hostages, are mixed my accomplices."

"Is this guy crazy? He actually told me this?" Clapton thought to himself, "Could it be… he wants to take the opportunity to sell out his accomplices?"

"The situation on the street is chaotic right now, snipers can't open fire on the area in front of the bank's door, and police cars can't drive out. So, as long as you relax a little, my accomplices will escape into the crowd." Feng Bujue had been instructing the three robbers earlier, but now he began to instruct the police.

Clapton wasn't stupid either, there were only two possibilities as to why the other party would say these things: either this "anonymous" wanted to harm his accomplices, or he was setting up some kind of deception. There was no third possibility, and if there was, he'd just be courting death…

"Are the tactical teams on the street behind the bank still in position?" Clapton whispered to the person next to him.

"Yes, they're still monitoring, there's no movement, the iron bars on all the windows are intact, and no one has been seen moving around in the rooms," an officer replied.

"Are you sure there are no other exits in this building? Like ventilation ducts, or sewers or something?" Clapton asked again.

"There's a ventilation duct exit on the roof, and snipers have been watching it, but no one has climbed out of there yet. Besides, even if the robbers really got onto the roof, there's no way down."

Hearing this, Clapton looked up, the roof of the building in front of him was seven or eight meters above the ground, and jumping down would result in serious injury or death. The two buildings next to this roof were three or four meters away, and besides, there were guardrails, so the possibility of running up and jumping to the top of other buildings could also be ruled out.

"Hmph… I'll see how you guys plan to run…" Clapton thought to himself.

"Alright, officer, the hostages are coming out, get ready," Feng Bujue said on the other end of the phone, "Call me back when you've identified my accomplices." With that, he hung up the phone again.

At this moment, several figures jumped out from the side of the counter, they were also in a state of having cash bags over their heads, and their hands and feet were tied together.

"After the hostages come out, take off the bags on their heads, but don't untie them, take them all to the side and guard them temporarily." Clapton's thinking was still relatively clear, and he had already begun to deploy countermeasures to the police officers around him, "Listen, be careful of everyone, they just look like they're all tied up… understand? Maybe some guy will suddenly pull out a gun and shoot at you."

On the other side, Feng Bujue was hiding under the counter and saying as if directing traffic, "Right, right, guys, that's the direction, just like I told you before, hop forward eight steps, then turn ninety degrees to the left, yes, line up, one by one, follow up after hearing the person in front hop a few meters, getting anxious will only make you fall."

Under Feng Bujue's command, the hostages hopped towards the door one by one in a fairly orderly manner.

"Hey! Winston, you can go out too." Feng Bujue immediately shouted loudly at the hostage standing at the door.

The position and facing direction of this Mr. Winston were adjusted by Feng Bujue before opening the door, and he had also said hello. As long as Winston dared to move half a step forward, he would shoot. Only after he shouted this could Winston jump forward.

At this moment, Winston, hearing the order, felt as if he had been granted amnesty. The few minutes he had been standing at this door felt like years to him, and he was overjoyed to be finally out of trouble.

However, what greeted him after jumping out of the bank's front door was not a blanket, an ambulance, or concerned greetings, but…

"Sir, please come over here." An officer uncovered the cash bag on Winston's head, but did not untie the locks on his hands and feet, just dragged him to the side, let him sit on the ground first, and then two other officers came over to watch him warily.

"What's going on? I'm a hostage!" Winston shouted.

"Please cooperate with us, sir, the robbers may want to slip out among the hostages," an officer replied.

"What does this mean? Are you suspecting me?"

"Nothing can be confirmed at this time, this is also for your safety, sir."

Winston didn't say anything else, and was just about to complain a few words, but he saw the rain of money and the crowd around him: "Hey! What's going on? You're tying law-abiding citizens here, but turning a blind eye to those who are robbing the stolen money?"

…………

Five minutes later, all twenty-nine hostages had arrived outside the bank. And Feng Bujue, after the last hostage jumped out, lowered the bank's electronic roller shutter door again.

Next, the work of interrogating and identifying the hostages began in earnest.

After a preliminary interrogation of the hostages, Clapton received a series of shocking information.

"Okay, okay, ladies and gentlemen… quiet down," Clapton said, "Let me sort things out… Initially, the three robbers who robbed the bank were all killed by a hostage single-handedly, and that guy, is an anti-human, high-IQ, polite tough guy…"

"Yes." "That's right." "Yes." The hostages replied in unison.

"He doesn't have any accomplices at all, and he hasn't hurt you, and no one was locked in the vault," Clapton added.

"Yes… no." "That's right." "In a sense, he saved us."

Clapton gave a dry laugh: "It sounds like he's become a hero. Then who can explain to me why this anonymous guy is playing these tricks with our police?"

"Maybe he was worried about being regarded as an accomplice of the robbers." "Yeah, like us, being trapped here and being interrogated by you." "That's right! Untie me quickly! I'm going to complain about you!"

"Okay, I'll confirm his appearance characteristics with you one last time… Asian, short black hair, wearing a long purple suit, right?" Clapton asked.

After receiving an affirmative answer, he came to the telephone and dialed the number again.

After five rings, Feng Bujue answered: "What can I do for you, officer?"

"Kid, I don't know who you are, or what you want to do," Clapton said, "But you're in big trouble."

"Heh heh… what trouble?" Feng Bujue laughed, "I'm all ears."

"I know you're not a robber, and your act of killing those three people can also be explained as self-defense, or even as doing a good deed, but…" Clapton said, "After you killed them, you continued to hold the hostages, and used them to threaten and play with the police, and you also threw a large sum of cash from the bank into the street, which is no different from robbing a bank."

"Then… please tell me, Officer Clapton," Feng Bujue asked, "Am I a hero, or a criminal?" His voice suddenly became very strange, "This answer is very important, please think carefully."

"Open the door, come out and surrender, and come back to the station with me." Clapton didn't answer Feng Bujue's question, but said, "Now you don't have any hostages, if you don't come out, we'll storm in through the front door."

"Answer my question, officer." Feng Bujue ignored the other party's request and replied with a heavier tone.

"Of course you're a criminal! What else do you think you are?" Clapton shouted, "Open the door and surrender quickly."

"Hmm…" Feng Bujue pondered, "Is that your answer… hmph… interesting, very interesting." He thought for a few seconds and continued, "Okay, I'll open the door right away."

The roller shutter door slowly rose, and the scene inside the door looked the same as when it was last closed.

"Raise your hands and come out from behind the counter." Clapton said into the phone.

"Heh heh… I refuse," Feng Bujue replied.

Clapton had long since had enough of the other party, he raised his hand, signaling for several of his men to go in and arrest him, while trying to distract Feng Bujue on the phone: "Haven't you had enough fun? I don't want to see anyone die today."

Four armed police officers entered through the front door in single file, dispersing their positions and surrounding the counter.

Clapton held the phone in one hand and the binoculars in the other, observing the situation. When he saw his men approaching the counter, his heart was in his throat, fearing that Feng Bujue would resist stubbornly and a gunfight would break out.

Unexpectedly, what happened next was…

The four police officers looked at the back of the counter with puzzled expressions, and one of them, who reacted relatively quickly, immediately said into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder: "Sir, there's no one here."

"What?" Clapton instinctively said.

Feng Bujue laughed on the other end of the phone: "Heh heh… guess, what happened after the last time the door closed."

"Search quickly, he must still be in that bank! He must be hiding somewhere!" Clapton wasn't afraid of being heard by Feng Bujue, and said directly into the walkie-talkie.

"Hmph… are you sure?" Feng Bujue sneered.

Clapton said into the phone receiver again: "I'm clearly calling the phone at the counter…"

"Use call forwarding." Feng Bujue laughed, "I lied to you in the beginning when I said that dead man's phone was out of power, his phone is fully charged, and I still have it in my hand now."

Clapton was a little late in realizing at this point that the other party had covered the heads of those hostages, tied their hands and feet, and made the remark "I have accomplices mixed in," which was all to create a smokescreen and delay time.

Clapton thought to himself: What he did and said earlier was linked together, until the time the door closed… He knew very well that after that, I would be able to know everything from the hostages, and all his lies and actions would be exposed before my eyes. And what I don't know… is what he did between the last time the door closed and opened…