The handsome guy with the feminine features was really frustrated, and it took him a long time to snap out of it amidst his companions’ laughter. Wait, something’s wrong—his promotional red hat was gone, and there were way fewer flyers than before. When he looked up again, he was stunned. Damn, that ugly guy who was cursing earlier was now wearing his hat, standing proudly at the entrance of the residential complex handing out flyers, acting as a volunteer promoter.

He was so angry he was about to go over and argue, but just then, chaos erupted. That man suddenly lashed out without warning, grabbing a middle-aged man who had just left the complex and, with a flurry of slaps, sent flyers scattering all over the ground.

From a distance, that chubby guy got excited at the sight of a fight and shouted, “Yo yo yo, smack smack, fighting monsters and dropping loot!”

As soon as he finished, the beaten man’s wallet and phone flew far away—sure enough, the loot had dropped.

“Yo yo yo, smack smack, dropping gold coins!” the chubby guy shouted again.

Before he finished, money spilled out of the wallet—there really were quite a few “gold coins.”

The dazed victim tried to defend himself, but the attacker was a pro. With a knee strike and an elbow jab, the man first bent forward, then fell backward, and landed on the ground in an extremely undignified position.

The capital is a civilized place—soon, a crowd gathered around, pointing and commenting in Beijing dialect:

“What’s going on? Someone’s fighting?”

“Call 110, quick!”

“So uncivilized.”

All talk, no action—lots of pointing, but no one stepped in. The skinny attacker, full of righteous indignation, stomped on the man and raised his phone, shouting, “Ladies and gentlemen, please judge for yourselves! We’re here doing public service promotion, and this bastard took this phone and was secretly filming the girls’ chests and under their skirts. Look, look… caught red-handed! Someone help me, let’s take him to the police station.”

With that, he showed the photos, and sure enough, they were upskirt shots. Instantly, he stood on the moral high ground. The onlookers started talking again—so despicable, he deserved it. So shameless, serves him right. Only the male and female promoters were dumbfounded. One girl with an open neckline quickly covered her chest, realizing what had happened—she’d just been photographed.

The skinny attacker was quick-witted. Seeing the man on the ground about to speak, he shoved his stinky sneaker in his face, making the man choke and fall silent.

After finishing the beating, he looked for a way to escape. Suddenly, someone in the crowd jumped up and shouted, “Hey, isn’t that Director Sullivan from Huili Police Station? Isn’t he a cop?”

“Oh, here’s his badge.” Someone kicked the wallet and saw the ID inside.

“What? A cop?” The skinny guy panicked, pushed through the crowd, and bolted. The busty girl at the promo table threw something at him from afar and angrily cursed, “Pervert!”

As soon as he ran, chaos broke out. Someone immediately gave chase, but the getaway car up ahead sped off—damn, they got away.

The accomplice guarding the left front saw things going south and ran off too—damn.

The skinny guy was so upset he wanted to cry. If he’d really beaten up a cop, he’d be screwed. Angry, scared, anxious, and terrified, his adrenaline spiked. With his long legs, he quickly vaulted over the road barrier; running on the sidewalk, a few plainclothes officers behind him shouted, “Catch him!”

He wasn’t stupid—he copied their moves and shouts, pointed ahead, and yelled, “Catch her! That woman is the thief!”

Running and shouting, passersby just stood there dumbly, looking in the direction he pointed, searching for the female thief, completely unaware that the real thief had already slipped away.

He ducked into Walmart, darted through the cinema’s back yard, jumped over two walls, and finally managed to shake off his pursuers. The skinny guy patted the money in his pocket, feeling the joy of surviving a disaster. Wiping sweat from his brow, he thought he’d better get out of the capital quickly—thankfully, he already had travel money.

Just then, his phone rang—a text message. He checked it as he walked: “Dear Mr. Sam Parker, we are pleased to inform you… Interview location: 8th floor, Baolong Building, Harman Business Company.”

He wasn’t interested in the job, but one line caught his eye: “Lunch and city transportation allowance provided.”

Most people probably wouldn’t care about that line from a recruiter—at most, it’s just a boxed lunch, and who would actually have the nerve to ask for bus fare reimbursement? But that one line got Sam Parker excited. He muttered to himself:

“Yeah!? This is the first time I’ve ever been honored to get a free meal. I have to go.”

He set off, determined. The area around Yuquan Bridge was two districts away and would take two hours by bus, but it had to be safe. At the very least, he’d get a meal before leaving—it should be safe…

……

The attacker ran off, but the witnesses were in trouble, and those who had helped him even more so. The whole promo table—two men and four women—were all taken to the police station. To everyone’s shock, it really was a cop who got beaten up. Even more ridiculous, the police thought they were all accomplices. After all, the attacker was wearing a little red hat and holding flyers, which made the victim let his guard down—only to get thoroughly beaten.