The sky gradually turned brighter, a tinge of orange seeping through the clouds. Xiaotao ordered us to go home and rest, which I gladly obeyed. Tiredness had slowly crept up on me and I was ready to pass out. After a direct confrontation with the murderer, we each sustained our own losses, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t act for the time being.

Just as I was about to leave, I remembered that Lao Yao and Bingxin were still at the station. The two had fallen asleep on the table after collapsing from exhaustion.

When I shook Bingxin’s shoulder, she opened her bleary eyes, voice thick with sleepiness as she asked, "Did we get the murderer?"

"He got away but we managed to save a few of the hostages,” I said. “I'll take you home now."

Dali pointed to Lao Yao and then at himself, his crestfallen eyes seemed to say, If you’re taking Bingxin home, does that mean I have...