Evil Awe-Inspiring

At this time, a cell phone is ringing from his pocket. He takes it out, and look the number, smiling at me and says: “We’ll have the chance to talk in future soon. There’s no video or audio recordings of our conversation just now.”

 Then he goes to push the door out, leaving me alone in the room.

 A few minutes later, the door is slammed open, and a stout figure is rushing in as if in a rage. This is a white man in a shirt, a little fat, full of fleshes. I think that’s probably “that fool” Jeff mentioned just now.

 In fact, I am not surprised that they use these tricks to bring me back to the police station. They suspect from my identification that I might be one of the gunmen Papa 8 has brought back. I think it’s normal for them to come to me as a breakthrough in this case.

 This fellow comes in and slamming the chair on the ground, sitting down in front of me, snapping his thick hand and twisting the lamp on the table. The light is shining directly to my face.

 “Do you know why you’re here?”

 To my surprise, this white man speaks our language is even more standard than Jeff!

 “I know, two cops of you took out a bag of marijuana from our car.” I say coldly, “I’ll tell my lawyer about it in detail and you will receive a complaint letter soon!”

 “Don’t play dumb with me! You son of bitch. Don’t you know why you were caught here?” The fellow looks so fierce, “I tell you, with only one phone call, the Immigration Department will be able to drive you out of Canada!”

 I’m laughing.

 This guy says exactly the same thing as Jeff did on the way to scare me. But Jeff was just trying me, and this guy really takes me as a rookie to trick me.

 After that, I just learned that many Canadian police officers use this method to intimidate Asian suspects. Because many low-level Asian criminals are smuggled here, and most of them do not understand Canadian law. So, they use this to intimidate them during interrogation.

 Obviously, this guy also thought I’m afraid of the Immigration Bureau.

 But I’ve already known that although I have a temporary visa, but before the visa expires, the Immigration Department won’t do anything to me unless there is an evidence that I did commit crimes.

 But in the case of hiding marijuana, the way was very poor. They have no evidence, and any lawyer can handle this.

 “I don’t worry about the Immigration Department, if you like.” My face is calm and indifferent, “I want to call my lawyer. This is my right!”

 “I’ll let you call.” He throws a folder on the table, deliberately showing the holster on his rib position.

 “Boy. Don’t think you have a hard mouth and we have no idea with it!” He’s staring at me and says, “You really don’t want to say? What is your relationship with that Eight Finger? Did you smuggle in Canada? Who else with you? How many? Where are they now?”

 I’m just looking at him and laughing.

 He’s annoying by my laugh, standing up violently, and rushing to kick me on the chest. I’m feeling a sharp pain, and the whole body is turning back with the chair. He is coming up and want to beat me again. I’m lying on the ground, clentching my teeth and shouting: “Come on! Come and beat me! I’ll ask the lawyer to take me to the wound test in a minute! Let’s see who will die first between you and me!”

 This word makes him hesitate for a moment, then licking his lips and says: “I won’t hit you.”

 Then he calls in two policemen. They close the door, turn on the air conditioner, turn it into refrigeration mood to lower the temperature.

 Damn it, it’s spring and still very cold in Canada. Then don’t know where they get a bucket of ice water and pour me through together.

 At this time, the outdoor temperature is only a few degrees, and they also turn on the air conditioner in the room. My clothes are all wet, and I’m handcuffed under the air vent, shivering with cold.

 “Guess, boy, what would it be like if I handcuffed you here day and night?” This guy wants to keep scaring me.

 Although I’m shivering with cold, I’m still reluctantly laughing, staring at him and saying word by word coldly: “Then tomorrow you will be charged with murder by my lawyer!”

 I’m laughing bitterly in my heart. I used this method to deal with those little messes before. I never imagine that I may taste it myself here today.

 After that, there’s still the old trick like electric shock. Instead of hitting me directly with the electric baton, they put some damp towels on my body first.

 These people are very experienced, because direct electricity with the electric baton may leave burn marks on body. But with the damp towel in the middle, the pain of electric shock will not be weakened, but will not leave any wound or scar!

 I’m electrified several times. At first, I can still grind my teeth and carry several times. After that, I begin to twitch all over, my mouth corners even can’t restrain the outflow of saliva, my body is shocked to be stiff at first, and then become soft.

 These guys see that I still refuse to talk, and finally they can’t bear it. They bring a thick yellow-page telephone book, hold sticks in their hands and are ready to beat me. Such beats are padded with the thick books, the strength won’t be reduced, but even stronger. When beating, the power of concussion can spread almost all over the body, even the bones and internal organs will feel shaking and pain.

 I just bite my teeth and carry it. I have a little recognition in my heart. They just torture me, but they dare not really cause substantive harm to me.

 Finally, I faint.

 When I wake up, I’m still sitting in that room. The air conditioner has been turned into heater mood, the overturned tables and chairs have been put away, and the water marks on the ground have been dried up. My clothes have dried a little but my whole body is still aching.

 In front of me is sitting a man wearing the glasses and a suite of suit. He’s carrying a briefcase in his hand. He’s saying to me in a professional tone: “Mr. Chen Yang, I am a lawyer appointed by Mr. Fang. Now I’ll take you out.”

 None of the bastards hit me just now are in the room. Here’s just two of us. I ask for the lawyer’s certificate first, confirm his identity, and then ask him: “Has this matter been settled? Can I go now?”

 

“Yes. There is no definite evidence to prove that bag of marijuana belongs to you. You are free now. I can take you out to go through the formalities and leave the police station.”

 I curse in a low voice. The lawyer looks at my semi-wet clothes and says lightly: “By the way, have you been treated unfairly? If so, I can prosecute for you.”

 “Yes!” I speak slowly about all that I have suffered, including the process of being planted. The lawyer is taking the notes and looking up at me. He hesitates for a moment and says: “All right! But I tell you beforehand that these indictments may not have any effect. You know, there’s no effect in examining injuries.”

 “I know.” I’m gritting my teeth and say: “This is certainly not the first time that these people have done this. I am not the first, nor the last. I’m suing just to show that I’m a good, law-abiding citizen.”

 The lawyer says nothing, just asks me to sign a document. A policeman comes in and open the handcuffs for me. Then the lawyer takes me out and takes back my personal belonging. At this time, I see Silo and the other two brothers are also brought out. It seems that they are in good spirits. At least I am the main target. They have not met my treatments. Silo tells me that he called back for help.

 Silo looks angry. I see his eyes are full of the angers.

 “Little 5, we have to put up with this?”

 “What if not?” I ask him back.

 “Damn it, take a gun and finish him! There’s no death penalty in Canada anyway! I want to kill him!” Silo is scolding furiously.

 I’m laughing, feeling a little tired. I pat Silo on the shoulder and lean over his ear, whispering: “Stupid! If you kill him in public means you’re going to die! Even if you have killed him, you wouldn’t want to get out of prison for the rest of your life. When you have a chance in future, you should sneek into his house in the middle of the night and cut his throat with a knife.”

 I speak in a calm voice, but I’m not kidding.

 To my surprise, Jeff comes out to see me off. Silo, unaware of my conversation with Jeff, looking at him with hatred. Jeff is winking at me, then talking to the lawyer for a few words, then he leaves.

 But before I leave, I see another strange thing. At the gate of the police station, I see the fool who hit me in the room again!

 But this time he’s not so prestigious. He’s looking nervously at a girl in front of him. The girl is white, tall, with long, wavy blond hair. She looks slender and attractive from her back, seems to be scolding at that fellow, and then suddenly slapping him on the face. He’s furious, but face changing several times, lowers his head and leaves angrily at last.

 The girl raises her middle finger proudly against his figure.

 I find that no one dare look at her!

 “Who is this girl? She’s so arrogant? Is she the daughter of the police chief?” I’m laughing.

 The lawyer next to me is shaking his head: “The chief police officer’s daughter won’t so arrogant! She’s the highness princess!”

 “The Highness Princess? I haven’t heard that there are royal nobles in Canada.”

 The lawyer hesitates and saying lightly to me: “The Angels of the Hell, you know? No. 1 Mafia in Canada! They’re controling 90% of all Canadian gangs! It can be said that they are the rulers of the underworld! This girl is the only daughter of the godfather of the Angels of the Hell, her nickname is the Highness Princess.”