Wang Dali shouted, "Yangzi, are you crazy? Our top priority now is to get Huang Xiaotao back for backup!"
"No!" I said firmly. "The killer has a clear view from upstairs. If a large group of cops rushes in, he'll know he's been exposed and might take extreme measures."
"Then what? He'll just jump off and kill himself. Scum like that aren't worth pitying," Wang Dali said.
"No, I mean he might take the residents here hostage!" I replied.
Wang Dali was momentarily speechless. After a while, he said with little confidence, "Can the three of us handle this?"
"We can. Officer Wang, I trust your skills, and you've got the right weapon for this," I said.
He glanced at the small ultraviolet lamp in his hand and suddenly exclaimed, "That's right—UV light! He's afraid of sunlight. Yangzi, you're damn smart."
"Then let's go."
Even so, I still called Huang Xiaotao and told her to come back—but warned her not to send a large team all at once, so as not to alert the killer.
...
Huang Xiaotao reminded me, "Wang Yuanchao is experienced and skilled. Follow him closely and don't act rashly! If the criminal takes hostages, don't provoke him. We're on our way."
"I understand."
The three of us headed upstairs. I led the way, angling my umbrella to reflect Wang Dali's UV light onto the stair railing. Wang Yuanchao followed silently with his gun ready.
The building wasn't tall—only six floors—so there was no elevator.
The fingerprint of Baiye was blurry but easy to spot. At every floor, I held my breath, worried it might appear outside someone's door—and cause trouble.
But all the way to the sixth floor, it remained. The door to the rooftop stood ajar, revealing a pitch-black night sky.
I waved my hand: "Turn off the lights. Don't alert Baiye."
Wang Dali switched off the lights. Wang Yuanchao drew his gun and moved tactically to open the door. The two of us followed close behind.
The rooftop wasn't open and clear. Large water tanks and pipes cluttered the space. To ensure steady water supply, the building pumps water up and stores it there. We advanced cautiously, Wang Dali gripping my clothes tightly, the cold wind howling in our ears.
Wang Yuanchao stepped carefully, eyes sharp like an eagle's, scanning the surroundings.
Suddenly, I heard a noise. Looking up, a man in a black hoodie stood on top of a water tank, blending almost perfectly with the night. Only his hands and feet were ghostly pale—like a corpse's.
I screamed, "He's up there!"
Before I finished, Wang Yuanchao spun and fired a shot. I wasn't sure if it hit.
The black-clad man crashed down on Wang Yuanchao, using his momentum to knock him down. They grappled fiercely. The man wrapped his arms around Wang Yuanchao's neck and bit down hard.
His fangs—long and sharp like a beast's—made my skin crawl. My long-held belief wavered: could Baiye really be a vampire?
Seeing Wang Yuanchao about to be bitten, I acted without thinking, swinging my umbrella at the man's face.
Thud! The man fell, quickly steadying himself and disappearing into the darkness. Wang Yuanchao fired several shots toward that direction, bullets hitting a pipe and sparking!
He had blood on his forehead but seemed unfazed. Just as he prepared to chase, something flew from another direction, hitting his back. A foul smell filled the air.
I looked down: it was a balloon filled with yellow eel blood.
Suddenly, a fluttering swarm of bats appeared in the night sky, drawn wild by the blood. Their tiny eyes glowed faint green.
I shouted, "Quick, take off your clothes!"
Wang Yuanchao quickly shed his jacket and threw it far away. The jacket scattered some bats, but blood splattered on the ground around us.
The bats went berserk, wildly flying and crashing into our faces and lips—disgusting beyond words.
"Dali, turn on the lights!" I yelled, using my umbrella to fend off the bats.
I looked back, nearly spitting blood in anger. Wang Dali cowered on the ground, clutching his head and trembling, "Don't come near me! Don't come near me!"
The bats obscured our vision. My worst fear came true: the black-clad man attacked again!
His pale, ghastly face slowly rose from behind a water tank. Cold eyes pierced through the chaos, fixing on us. Blood-stained lips curled into a sinister smile as he spoke in a chilling voice: "You mere mortals think you can kill me?"
Baiye's mind had completely snapped. I rolled on the ground, grabbed the UV lamp, and shined it directly on his face.
The bats screamed in agony and scattered. Several crashed fatally into walls and the ground. The man screamed, clutching his face. The UV light clearly caused him great pain—I saw his skin blister instantly.
He fled to the other side of the tanks. Wang Yuanchao chased, gunshots echoing. Then, silence returned.
I thought the killer was dead and breathed a sigh of relief, kicking Wang Dali, furious: "Coward, get up!"
"Oh," Wang Dali whimpered.
We moved closer and saw Wang Yuanchao aiming his gun. Baiye held someone tightly—a man with fangs aimed at his throat. It was the orphanage director.
"Stay back! He'll really kill me if you come closer!" the director trembled.
That old fool was probably the one who threw the eel blood earlier. Not only did he aid the devil, now he was voluntarily a hostage to help Baiye escape—a hopeless idiot!
"Director, don't pretend. We know," I said. "You're Baiye's father, right?"
The director was shocked, then nodded slowly. "Kid, you're sharp. When you investigated the orphanage, I sensed you were special. Yes, Xiaoye is my illegitimate son. I owe them a debt, and now I intend to repay it tenfold."
I snapped, "That's your idea of paying back? Your son's a killer, and instead of stopping him, you help him? You're the dumbest father I've ever seen."
"No!" the director shouted. "Xiaohui is not wrong. Killing is just to get the blood he needs to survive. His birth was God's punishment for me. I accept it willingly."
Such twisted love.
"Director, enough. I want you to help block that damn cop's gun so I can escape!" Baiye said.
"All right, Xiaoye. Run far away. Your old man's life is nothing," the director said.
Wang Yuanchao coldly put his finger on the trigger: "Song Yang, should I kill them both?"
I didn't know how to answer. I had no right to decide life or death. The best was to stall until Huang Xiaotao arrived.
Suddenly, Baiye shoved the director toward Wang Yuanchao's gun. Wang Yuanchao shot the director's leg. The man collapsed with a thud.
Baiye seized the chance and fled across the rooftop. I was dumbfounded as he jumped off the building.
I was shocked—a desperate criminal who'd rather die than surrender!
Wang Yuanchao then dashed after him with the speed of a leopard. To my further astonishment, he jumped after Baiye…