Chapter Twenty-Three: The Tall Tree in the Forest Is the First to Face the Wind

It wasn’t exactly forbidden for patrol officers in the Outer City to carry firearms on duty, as long as they followed the proper procedures for checking out their weapons. However, there was a strict rule that all firearms had to be returned at the end of each shift. This was a consequence of a previous incident: a patrol officer, heavily intoxicated late one night, had fallen asleep by the roadside and had his gun stolen. The thief, seizing the opportunity, transformed from a mere pickpocket into an armed robber and ended up shooting several civilians.

Since then, the rules had been clear—a sword hanging over everyone’s head: no drinking on duty, and no carrying firearms while drinking. So, when Ye Chen blurted out that Xu Fan was carrying a gun, not only did Xu Fan freeze, but even Chen Bingfeng, standing nearby, shot him a surprised look.

But what surprised Chen Bingfeng wasn’t the gun itself—it was how Ye Chen had known about it.

Ye Chen quickly realized he’d let something slip and hurried to explain, “Normally you leave your uniform open—I might not have noticed. But today you’ve buttoned it up neatly, and this thing stands out. So it’s your physique that gave you away.” He pointed to the bulge on Xu Fan’s chest, which clearly outlined the shape of a firearm.

Both of his companions knew Ye Chen was an Awakened, but as far as anyone was aware, his ability was solely connected to that broken blade of his. If a new ability were to come to light, it would certainly trigger a thorough investigation by the authorities. After all, Ye Chen had never heard of any Awakened possessing two different abilities. If there were gods in this world, Ye Chen mused, they must allocate only one gift per person.

A tree that stands out is the first to be felled. It was fine to show off a little, but too much would only invite disaster.

Still, Chen Bingfeng felt something was off. It seemed as if Ye Chen had already begun to show surprise even before turning to face Xu Fan. His keen observation of micro-expressions was a skill he’d inherited from Captain Dai.

Xu Fan looked down and saw for himself. In a fluster, he started unbuttoning his shirt, signaling for silence—don’t shout, don’t let others hear.

Chen Bingfeng lowered his voice to explain, “That gun belonged to Xu Fan’s father. He was killed in the line of duty years ago, and the administration kept the weapon as a family keepsake. Xu Fan took his father’s place in the patrol after that.”

“Oh, I see,” Ye Chen nodded. So, Xu Fan had inherited his father’s position—a legacy appointment.

No wonder he didn’t get along with the leader of Team One. Both were connected, but the means by which they got their positions were worlds apart.

Xu Fan, sitting close to Ye Chen, gave him a conspiratorial look. “The Outer City’s not safe these days. Look at me—plenty of flesh, easy to target. Having a gun on me makes me feel more secure.”

He wasn’t lying. After visiting two crime scenes the day before, his nerves had been on edge, which was why he’d decided to carry his father’s old weapon.

Ye Chen asked, “Don’t tell me your gun is just for show. Did the administration actually give you ammunition as well?”

Chen Bingfeng shot Ye Chen a warning glance, hinting that this wasn’t the place to discuss such sensitive matters. Dipping his finger in the tea, he quickly scribbled two words on the table: “Black Market.” Then he wiped it away.

After this brief exchange, the three finally turned to the matter at hand.

Ye Chen asked, “Bingfeng, I noticed my communicator has very low access. I can’t view case files. Why’s that?”

“You’ve only been here two days. You’re still in your probation period, so you don’t have those permissions. Let me check for you.”

During breakfast, Ye Chen had already mentioned—actually, it was Zhou Peng’s suggestion—that they should identify the victim from the bar street incident.

Chen Bingfeng promptly opened his communicator and searched the case database. Since it was a recent incident, it was easy to find, and the file was brief. After a moment, he handed the device to Ye Chen. “See for yourself.”

Victim: Zhang Tufang, male, fifty, deputy director of the green crystal mine outside the city. Attacked by an unknown creature; internal organs devoured…

The rest of the report aligned with what Ye Chen and his companions had already learned—some descriptions were even less detailed than Ye Chen’s own observations.

After reading, Ye Chen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I remember that mine. It’s southeast of the city, about fifty ki