Chapter 82: Caw! It’s a Police Superintendent!
A month—neither especially long nor especially short. But for the criminal investigators at the Wen’an Bureau, that month was pure suffering.
For the entire month, Lin Jiangye had thrown them around and smashed them down dozens upon dozens of times. Their bodies had gotten much tighter and more solid.
Apparently, they’d also become “more delicious” now—according to a message passed on by certain married men. It sounded like a compliment, but the expressions on everyone’s faces were… complicated.
At the same time, they’d all developed a deep, visceral understanding of Lin Jiangye’s abnormal strength.
If it were only raw power they lacked, they might still have been able to dance around him with agility, speed, or technique.
The problem was—Lin Jiangye wasn’t lacking in any of those either.
So every afternoon at five o’clock, the Wen’an Bureau police station would echo with waves of anguished howling.
At first, passersby thought the police were abusing suspects. A few even filmed it and posted it online.
But before the topic could ferment, people saw a group of officers stumbling out of the station—faces swollen and bruised, walking like they’d been run over.
It didn’t look like police beating criminals.
It looked like criminals beating police.
Nearby shop owners couldn’t help but ask what happened. Only then did they learn the truth: they were being “repeatedly beaten” by Consultant Lin.
“The consultant says we’re just… too weak…” one officer said tearfully, with half his face swollen.
That made the shop owners—and the gossiping bystanders crowding closer—pop question marks over their heads.
“Isn’t your consultant an external hire?”
How was an off-the-books consultant repeatedly beating fully employed criminal investigators into this tragic state?
Weak? That didn’t make sense! They were CID—muscle and training were part of the job. And plenty of people had seen them on duty; in ordinary folks’ eyes, they were absolutely “good fighters.”
Seeing how miserable they looked, someone asked, “Then what about your captain? The one who looks like a male model—big chest and everything. Don’t tell me he can’t win either?”
The moment they heard that description of Shang Fuyan, the detectives’ expressions became even more… subtle.
“Auntie, are you staring at our captain’s body every day or what?” a younger officer couldn’t help blurting out.
He immediately got smacked on the back of the head by the shop owner. “Hey, you brat—what’s wrong with looking? Your captain really does have the best body. Am I wrong?”
The young officer’s lips twitched. He didn’t dare argue.
“Captain Shang…” someone finally admitted, voice heavy. “He couldn’t take it either. Consultant Lin kicked him once and sent him straight into the wall.”
Back when they’d seen that scene, every single one of them had nearly had their eyeballs fall out of their sockets!
That was Captain Shang! Captain Shang!
If even he got treated like that, what chance did the rest of them have?
Thankfully, Consultant Lin still showed them mercy. That kick clearly held back—otherwise their bones would’ve been snapped long ago.
And after being thrown around repeatedly for a while, Captain Shang had reached the point where it was hard to “kick him flying” anymore.
“Ohhh, I get it!” the nearby shop owners nodded. “So his skills improved!”
The person who’d been about to add the second half of that sentence quietly shut up.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t be kicked flying—it was just that getting kicked away still happened… and it definitely didn’t mean he wasn’t getting beaten up repeatedly…
Still, Captain Shang was improving. He could even go all-out against Consultant Lin for over fifteen minutes now.
Truly cause for celebration!
Right after sparring with Shang Fuyan, Lin Jiangye borrowed the station’s communal shower and rinsed off quickly.
“Come eat at my place later,” he said. “After we eat and rest a bit, we can fight Tiger Mom to digest the meal.”
The first time Shang Fuyan heard that, he’d nearly choked. Now, he was completely used to it.
“Sure. What are we eating?”
Lin Jiangye thought for a moment. “Venison meatballs—and spicy stir-fried diced rabbit.” Beef, lamb, chicken, duck—those were basically everyday staples at his home. Almost every meal had them.
Hearing “venison,” Shang Fuyan fell silent.
He remembered that dream he’d had after eating venison at Lin Jiangye’s house…
Waking up in a panic, scrambling out of bed to wash his pants by hand, and then—unluckily—being spotted by Jiang Xin…
Mortifying. In thirty years of life, he’d never been that embarrassed!
“Hm? You don’t like it?” Lin Jiangye asked.
Shang Fuyan rubbed his nose awkwardly. “No, it’s fine…”
Probably fine.
Thankfully, sparring with Tiger Mom burned off a ton of energy. So even after eating venison, Shang Fuyan slept very steadily that night.
Besides training the Wen’an Bureau people, that month also included training for Yuheng and Kaiyang.
Among the animals, those two had some of the healthiest bodies and still retained real attack capability. Under Tiger Mom’s intentional guidance, they still couldn’t fight large apex beasts—but against small to medium carnivores, they absolutely wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.
Shang Fuyan even brought over police dog training procedures, teaching them where to bite to stop a bad guy’s movement without causing excessive harm.
Tiger Mom hadn’t expected that after coming to her human cub’s home, she’d also have to teach other cubs how to attack.
But she couldn’t refuse—her human cub was just too good at acting cute and pitiful. Not to mention there was also a little cat cub meowing “mi-mi” on the side.
That month, Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan weren’t simply waiting for orders either.
They still worked as usual—only, in the last half hour before clocking out, they went to practice shooting.
After a month of training, Lin Jiangye didn’t just get comfortable with the handgun. He also mastered other models—Type XX, Type 77, and the NP22 as well. Shang Fuyan even took him to the SWAT unit so he could try submachine guns and sniper rifles.
With Lin Jiangye’s frightening combat talent and adaptability, even when he couldn’t achieve perfect accuracy on the later firearms, he was still consistently close.
Which led to SWAT looking at Lin Jiangye with eyes full of longing—
This kid has the aura of an emperor. Why not join our unit?
That scared Shang Fuyan so badly he practically grabbed Lin Jiangye and sprinted away.
One day, Lin Jiangye received a message from a certain raven. He rushed over with the firefighters and pried open a door in time, rescuing several children suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning and getting them all to the hospital.
The moment he walked out of the hospital, Director Zhou called.
Everything on their side was ready. Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan could depart anytime.
After buying the raven a shiny little trinket as a reward, Lin Jiangye hurried home—and the first thing he saw upon entering was Shang Fuyan, luggage already packed.
“Your stuff is packed too,” Shang Fuyan said. “And this is a temporary gun permit—Director Zhou applied for it specifically for you. She said something seems to be going on over there; the border isn’t stable. You should carry a gun.”
He handed over a new firearm—the NP22, a newly issued model, effective within 150 meters.
Lin Jiangye quickly took it and ran his fingers over it. The feel of this new pistol was the best—also the one that fit him most naturally.
“I thought I’d only get issued a gun after we arrived,” Lin Jiangye said. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have needed to practice so many other models.” That was how Shang Fuyan had explained it before.
Shang Fuyan’s mouth twitched. He lightly tapped Lin Jiangye on the head. “Strictly speaking, you should have gotten it after arriving. But Director Zhou has ability—she managed to get you a permit.”
Which also meant the situation over there really wasn’t great. Otherwise, they wouldn’t actually grant an off-the-books consultant the right to carry.
“Try not to use this gun if you can. After we land, use the other ones first.”
He said that—but when they reached the airport, Lin Jiangye nearly fired his first shot.
It couldn’t be helped. The moment they approached the security checkpoint area, Bixi said it smelled “stinky.”
“What kind of stinky?” Lin Jiangye scanned the area, his expression growing serious.
Bixi wasn’t an ordinary raven anymore. If it raised an objection, this wasn’t some normal bad smell.
“Dead-body stench?” Shang Fuyan asked.
Lin Jiangye shook his head. If it were corpse smell, Bixi would likely say it was “the smell of death,” not just “stinky.”
So he asked Bixi, “Have you smelled this somewhere before?”
Bixi thought hard with its tiny bird brain, then brought up a terrifying memory.
[That white powder. Dad hates it. The uncles hate it too. Oh—and Uncle Jiang hates it the most!]
White powder. Everyone detested it. Jiang Xin especially detested it.
Alright. They understood instantly.
They were in the VIP lounge. Not far away was the regular security checkpoint, packed with people—chaotic, layered smells everywhere.
For Bixi to still pick up the scent of drugs, the quantity had to be significant.
Who brought that much through airport security—was he insane?
Lin Jiangye had Bixi judge the direction of the smell. Thankfully they were flying private, so Bixi didn’t need to be caged—otherwise they might never have discovered someone dared to bring drugs into an airport.
He told Shang Fuyan to notify airport police. He himself released Bixi into the air and had it patrol around the regular security checkpoint to identify the source as quickly as possible.
The sudden bird taking off immediately drew attention. A security officer’s face changed, and he demanded Lin Jiangye retrieve the raven.
Lin Jiangye calmly handed over an ID and told them to cooperate.
When they saw the name “Lin Jiangye,” the security staff instantly realized who he was. And once they confirmed he wasn’t messing around, their faces turned even uglier.
Calling in Lin Jiangye—how was that any different from calling in Yue City police? What kind of situation was serious enough that he had to release his bird?
Before they could think it through, Bixi dove straight at a specific spot in the crowd.
At the same time, Lin Jiangye released his grip—Yuheng and Kaiyang rushed forward and surrounded the target.
It was a foreign man, cheeks thin, eyes unnaturally bright—almost excited. His breathing was growing more and more rapid.
The moment Lin Jiangye saw him, he felt something was wrong.
Not just that he might be high—but that he might still be planning something.
With two big “dogs” circling him, the man wasn’t afraid at all. If anything, he looked even more thrilled.
At that moment, Shang Fuyan returned with airport police.
“Police. Please cooperate with the investigation.” Shang Fuyan signaled for airport police to push the surrounding crowd back, in case something happened.
The officers immediately followed orders, forcibly driving the onlookers back several meters.
The crowd—startled by Bixi and the wolves—were soothed the moment they heard “police.” Seeing the man act like he’d lost his soul, trying to push forward despite Shang Fuyan blocking him, many people sensed something was seriously off. Some obediently retreated; others hurried through security so they wouldn’t miss their flights.
And their worry was well-founded.
After being stopped a second time, the man exploded like a firecracker. He launched into a frenzied attack on Shang Fuyan.
His crazed demeanor terrified a lot of people. Fortunately, in under a minute, Shang Fuyan pinned him to the ground.
But even with his arms forced behind his back, the man showed no pain—like a brainless zombie, screaming and flailing. He even opened his mouth wide, trying to bite Shang Fuyan’s arm.
Shang Fuyan suspected the man had gotten high to the point of madness. The sudden surge of strength and that deranged state—so much so that even with Shang Fuyan and another officer working together, they still couldn’t hold him. He actually broke free.
Lin Jiangye reflexively went for his gun—but when he saw the terrified eyes around them, he immediately turned the muzzle away and smashed the man’s head with the pistol grip instead.
And—well—after blanking out for half a second, the man only became more vicious.
There was no choice. When the man was about to lunge at a nearby bystander, Lin Jiangye grabbed his shoulder, forcibly spun him around, and drove a punch straight into his face.
The next second, the world went quiet.
The man toppled backward stiffly, eyes closed, looking unconscious. Only then did the surrounding people gradually calm down.
What… a terrifying punch.
Even Shang Fuyan fell silent. Thinking carefully—during all their sparring with Lin Jiangye, it didn’t seem they’d ever taken a punch that ruthless…
Thank goodness—Lin Jiangye really did love his Wen’an colleagues!
Other officers rushed in, cuffed the man in a flurry, and Shang Fuyan opened the man’s backpack.
Inside were bag after bag of white powder. Shang Fuyan tore one open, sniffed it, and nodded at the others. “It’s drugs.”
The sheer amount shocked everyone. One bag alone looked roughly a kilogram, and there were more than ten bags.
But beyond shock, they were also confused. The man wasn’t even trying to hide it. There was no way he’d pass security with this—so why did he come here?
Lin Jiangye had the same question. But while everyone else was staring at the backpack, his attention stayed on the man himself.
He looked at the foreign suspect Shang Fuyan was hauling up—and suddenly reached out, patting his upper body.
When his hand reached the chest area, it froze.
“Wait!”
Everyone turned toward him.
Lin Jiangye lifted the man’s thick clothing—
and revealed coils and coils of… explosives?!
The entire place fell into dead silence.
Then screams erupted. The crowd lost all reason, stampeding outward.
“Explosives—AAAAH! Help!”
Luckily, Yan Zhou and the others had brought enough people. Once the crowd spiraled, the officers quickly used manpower and broadcasts. In under five minutes, they stabilized the situation, rerouted people to other checkpoints, or evacuated them entirely.
Even so, cold sweat drenched their backs.
Shang Fuyan’s face looked terrible. Finding that much drugs was already serious—now it turned out the man was a literal “human bomb”!
Worst of all, this human bomb was clearly in a drug-crazed state.
No one knew what he might do—whether he’d suddenly snap and set off the explosives, taking everyone with him.
And it was obvious: a drugged-out man wouldn’t wrap himself in explosives on his own. There had to be someone—or some organization—behind it.
Looking at the drugs in the backpack and the unconscious addict on the ground, Lin Jiangye suddenly remembered the “milk tea” he’d found in Liu Zhi’s villa.
Could these two things be connected?
He and Shang Fuyan exchanged a look. They’d thought of the same thing.
Unfortunately, they still had another mission. They couldn’t possibly turn around and go question Jiang Heping right now.
Shang Fuyan handed the suspect off to the airport police. After confirming the crisis was resolved, he and Lin Jiangye brought the cubs back onto the plane.
They’d already set a time with the Western Qiang police. If they were late, it would leave a bad impression.
Once aboard, one of them contacted Director Zhou, while the other contacted Jiang Heping to ask about the follow-up on the Liu Zhi case.
While they were busy, the incident shot to the top of trending searches. After people learned Yue City Airport had nearly been hit by a “human bomb” carrying a backpack full of drugs, the comments were full of relief for everyone on scene.
If that raven hadn’t detected it early, a little later and it might have turned into mass casualties.
“Whose raven was that?”
“Wait… I think I saw a familiar figure.”
“Yue City + raven… it’s hard not to think of him.”
“What I’m curious about is—how did he train a raven to be like that? It’s even sharper than a police dog.”
The online noise had nothing to do with Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan. After reporting the situation, the plane took off.
But neither of them felt good.
From Jiang Heping, they got bad news.
When Liu Zhi was taken in, at first he screamed that he’d been instructed by someone—trying to use “milk tea” to control other people.
But after a while, he shut his mouth and demanded to contact his manager, saying he wouldn’t speak unless he saw him.
Jiang Heping held him for a long time. He wouldn’t budge.
Just as Jiang Heping was preparing to summon the manager for questioning, news came: the manager had died by suicide.
Why call it suicide? Because the manager personally posted a final statement online—admitting that everything Liu Zhi did had been directed by him, with the goal of ruining other people’s careers.
The moment that statement hit the internet, it caused an explosion.
Yue City police had done a solid job sealing information, and the program’s director had forcibly ordered staff not to leak anything. So even if some well-connected people knew Liu Zhi was in trouble, nobody knew exactly what happened.
Now? Everyone knew Liu Zhi the idiot had been drugging people—drugging them with narcotics, not lethal poison.
And given how deeply the public loathed drugs, drugging someone with narcotics was considered far worse than poisoning them. Poison might mean one clean death.
Drugs meant long-term torture—body and mind.
After it broke, Liu Zhi became a rat everyone wanted to beat.
The Chiyuan District police realized something was wrong and rushed to seal internal station information, but they were still too late.
Liu Zhi heard about his manager’s death from a cleaning worker, took a massive psychological hit, and slammed his head into a wall trying to die.
They barely saved him—only for it to trigger his addiction. Any “delicate male celebrity” image vanished; under withdrawal, he was basically a zombie.
After that? There was no “after.”
Liu Zhi said nothing—or rather, he didn’t dare say anything.
The manager’s death was a warning.
Jiang Heping tried to dig clues out of the cleaner, but the man cried and said someone had stopped him on the way to work, paid him ten thousand yuan, and told him to pass the message to Liu Zhi.
That was all he knew.
Ten thousand yuan—just like that—cut off any chance of extracting information from Liu Zhi.
Jiang Heping was furious. When Lin Jiangye asked about it, Jiang Heping spammed the chat with all kinds of rage-filled stickers.
Lin Jiangye felt sorry for him. “Captain Jiang is… so miserable…”
But Lin Jiangye was powerless too. He had his own mission now and couldn’t help.
After hours of flying, the plane descended. They finally arrived in Western Qiang.
The moment they landed, they saw several people holding signs in the distance—participants for this operation.
Only…
“Are they… not welcoming us?” Lin Jiangye narrowed his eyes. At a glance, he could see the impatience on their faces—and the faint contempt hidden beneath it.
Oh dear.
They were being looked down on.
Shang Fuyan pressed Lin Jiangye’s shoulder, signaling him not to start a conflict. “This is their home turf. Observe first—then decide.”
Lin Jiangye originally thought Shang Fuyan was just telling him not to clash with them—but the more he listened, the more something felt off. What do you mean “observe first”? So… observe, confirm, then make a move?
“Ahem.” The man cleared his throat lightly, and the young man instantly rearranged his expression, pretending nothing had happened.
They walked up to the group. The moment those people saw what they looked like—and the two big “dogs” and three birds with them—they froze for a beat. Then one of them looked like he couldn’t hold back his temper, but someone pressed him down at the critical moment.
“You’re Shang Fuyan and Lin Jiangye from Yue City Public Security, right? Welcome to Western Qiang. The bureau has already prepared accommodations for you. It’s just… these pets of yours…” The hotel they’d booked wasn’t pet-friendly, so they couldn’t stay there.
“Just lock them up at the station. Hopefully these beasts won’t go causing trouble.” The one who’d almost blown up still couldn’t resist muttering.
The instant the words fell, both Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan’s faces turned cold. The air around them seemed to freeze solid.
“Beasts?” The seemingly well-behaved young man let out a low, eerie smile, and the Western Qiang officers instinctively felt a chill crawl up their backs.
“Who are you talking about?” His dark eyes pinned the man in place.
Lin Jiangye still hadn’t figured out why these people disliked him and Shang Fuyan. They’d been pulling long faces the second they arrived—like they were attending a funeral.
He’d been ready to swallow it.
But that man had stepped precisely on his landmine.
“That word ‘beasts’…” Are you talking about yourself?
He didn’t finish—Shang Fuyan covered his mouth.
The man was calm, cold, and indifferent. He didn’t demand an apology. Instead, he quietly listed Bixi and the others’ achievements.
“Raven Bixi. Three hours ago, at Yue City Airport, it detected a criminal carrying narcotics. The suspect had a large amount of explosives wrapped around his body. The airport police and I suspected he intended to detonate himself during the security check, causing mass casualties.”
“And that’s not the only case. Earlier, when the serial murder case from Gao City spilled into Yue City, the raven helped police locate a key eyewitness. Together with other animals, it successfully subdued the suspect—and it also assisted the Nanhai Coast Guard in tracking a black ship involved in organ trafficking…”
“This is the white-tailed sea eagle Chang Geng and the goshawk Qi Ming. They also played critical roles in the Nanhai case—more than once creating chaos to protect undercover officers on the ship.”
“These two are the North American grey wolves, Yuheng and Kaiyang. They protected a victim who was being harassed and nearly stabbed, helped police locate drugs hidden inside a villa, and found bodies and murder weapons concealed on an island.”
As Shang Fuyan kept naming achievement after achievement, the officer who’d spoken without thinking was already drenched in sweat.
In the end, Shang Fuyan still didn’t let him off.
“I won’t even talk about the rest for now. If that raven were a person, based on its merits alone, it would at the very least be a Police Superintendent by now.”
If even a Police Superintendent was a “beast,” then what did that make the person who’d said it out loud?
