National Forensic Doctor

Chapter 1364: Chapter 1290: Bloody Game (6)

After a long sleep, Kadar Stava stretched vigorously, feeling refreshed as the weariness from yesterday vanished without a trace.

He braced his waist, and with a swift motion akin to a carp flipping in water, he sprang up from the bed.

Kadar chuckled twice, then leaned forward and quickly did 50 push-ups, only stopping to rub his slightly swollen arms before picking up his handgun. He checked the magazine with a click and entered the bathroom.

Hot water gushed down from head to toe, making Kadar sigh in relief as he recalled his father’s deathbed confession.

Such a pity, even if it’s his own father, he could only die once.

Kadar let out a somewhat regretful laugh.

Turning off the water and drying himself, Kadar made it a point to clean his legs and feet thoroughly, to avoid any bloodstains.

After the two of them finished killing someone yesterday, they adjusted the position of the body again, a move stemming from inexperience, which resulted in blood stains splattering on their legs and feet. Next time, Kadar wouldn’t do that again.

"Ismail!" Kadar called out towards the opposite bedroom as he stepped outside.

The tall and sturdy Ismail looked startled, tumbling out with a gun in hand.

Kadar laughed heartily: "It’s time to head out. You coward, you killed two people yesterday, and today you still act scared."

Ismail came to his senses, exhaled a long breath, and then said, "I dreamt someone discovered us."

"If found out, just kill them. What are you afraid of?" Kadar patted the gun at his waist and said, "With our gear, we can take down a few police officers easily."

"The police have guns too," Ismail said.

"They don’t dare to risk their lives against us. Why would salary-earning police officers dare to draw guns and shoot it out with us? Don’t think police are that formidable. Back home, those who came to see my old man were all fawning," Kadar said disdainfully.

Ismail slowly looked for clothes and gave Kadar another glance: "And yet you still killed your dad?"

"Police bow to him, doesn’t mean I have to bow to him." Kadar continued to insist, "This proves we’re stronger than the police."

"If you say so." Ismail, of course, wouldn’t argue on this topic.

"Clean yourself well. We’ll look for a car later. Don’t let anyone see the blood on you," Kadar instructed, then turned on the TV to find a news channel.

Ismail quietly went to shower. His emotions were not as excited as Kadar’s; there was more worry and fear, plus a sense of aimless following, yet also a hint of exhilaration.

He had a father similar to Kadar’s, only without Counselor Stewa’s high position, not as wealthy, and didn’t live as long—Ismail’s father passed away years ago, making it impossible for him to personally kill his father.

Thanks to Kadar for allowing him to shoot Counselor Stewa, it partly satisfied his fantasy. noveldrama

Ismail came out with wet hair, and Kadar was engrossed in watching TV.

"News about us being caught." Kadar glanced at Ismail and threw him a towel: "Dry your head. If you catch a cold on the way, I won’t care for you."

"Got it. How do they plan to catch us?" Ismail asked while drying his head, his emotions already calmed.

"Someone claimed to have seen us on the road. They’re searching the area now, just as well. I planned to change direction anyway," Kadar said, treating this as a game, getting more excited as he spoke.

Ismail asked helplessly, "Which way? Where to find a car?"

"Plenty of ways. With guns in our hands, we’re gods!" Kadar pulled out his gun, mimicking shooting motions in the air, and said, "Two ways: once we reach the village ahead, see who has a car, go in and kill them, lock the door, and drive away. Alternatively, if there’s no suitable family to wipe out in the village, we’ll take the small road ahead, walk a bit, block the road with a branch or something. When a car stops, crouch over, bang, one shot, and the car is ours."

"Your method..." Ismail was thinking of buying or renting a car, not imagining Kadar’s approach was all about killing.

But admittedly, given their current experience, murder indeed seemed a very direct solution to problems.

As if everything could be solved by killing people.

"Then let’s keep killing." Ismail’s mood lifted as well. He turned and drew his Mad Dog Knife, inspected the blade in the sunlight, and said, "I don’t even need a gun; just this knife, and I can kill my way to the coastal city."

"Yeah, Dama is a small place, only thirty million people. Once we smuggle ourselves out, then the real shock to the world begins," Kadar fantasized about a wonderful future, his mind full of scenes from comics, novels, and TV shows.

All packed up and ready.

Kadar and Ismail left the air conditioner on, locked the yard gate, and followed the path into the village.

Here, the residents’ houses were sparsely scattered, with only a cluster of a dozen houses close together in the central area. Kadar and Ismail naturally avoided the village center, only looking for a small building similar to the one from yesterday on the outskirts.

Yesterday’s murder went quite smoothly. Given that, Kadar wanted to replicate it.

"Is anyone here?" Kadar set his eyes on an old Toyota parked in the yard, a smile on his face.

No response came from inside the house.

"Is anyone here?" Ismail shouted louder.