110: Chapter 108: The Lethal Hormone 110: Chapter 108: The Lethal Hormone “Fan, let’s go, time to get our fingerprints taken.” A friend from the village rushed into the hardware store, gave a shout, and waited for him to come out.

Chen Fan, rubbing his eyes, emerged from the back of the store and frowned, “Why the hell do we need to get our fingerprints taken?

I haven’t done anything wrong.

Why should I have my fingerprints recorded?”

“Didn’t you see the street office announcement?

Every shop owner has to get fingerprinted, and if we don’t…

they didn’t say what’d happen, but I’m worried they might shut us down.” His friend from the village said with a grin, “Come on, our identity information has already been sold to who knows how many companies.

Every damn day there’s this message conning me into opening a store in Northern Myanmar.

What’s there to be scared of with fingerprinting?”

“The scammers are always telling me to go do seafood business in West Harbor, saying I could make a year’s earnings in a month.” Chen Fan spoke lethargically, his speech slowing, his body so heavy he looked as though he couldn’t move a step.

“Seafood business, my ass.

It would be more like selling abalones.

Are you coming or not?

Let’s go, we have to do it anyway.

There’s no escaping it.”

Something about what was said struck a chord, and Chen Fan asked again, “Do we absolutely have to go?”

“The government employees and public institution workers have all been done already.

As for us shop owners, we’re listed in their books; you can’t avoid it.” His friend didn’t want to wait in line alone and egged him on, “If you don’t go now, they’ll just come looking for you later.”

“I just won’t go.

What can they do, shut my store down?”

“They can shut you down for missing a fire extinguisher in your store—what do you think?” His friend referred to a past incident for which Chen Fan had been fined an amount equal to several feasts of crayfish.

Chen Fan grunted in acknowledgement, then after thinking it over, said, “You go ahead, I want to sleep a bit more.

I’ll go later.

You head on, I’m dead tired.”

“What were you up to last night?”

“Just wanted to win a game before sleeping.

I nearly pulled an all-nighter.” Chen Fan turned and went back to the rear store.

His hardware store was handed down from his father, an old-fashioned front-store-back-factory set-up.

With a bit of skill in installation and repairs, and willingness to make house calls, along with letting regular customers buy on credit, business in the township was actually quite good.

But that wasn’t the only source of income for Chen Fan.

His most profitable craft was making air guns, also known as air rifles.

They were typically the high-pressure type that could shoot birds and rabbits.

Of course, the main selling point wasn’t hunting but replicating the look of guns like the M16, AK47, etc.

Still, the shooting feature had to be present, otherwise people would just buy real Legos.

Why spend Lego money on knock-offs from Wen Township?

However, this craft was bringing in less and less income.

In the past, he could dismantle the air guns into parts, call a courier, mix in a few mechanical components and ship them off.

Now, with courier inspections getting stricter and many peers being taught a lesson, those daring and willing to purchase were also dwindling.

Realistic guns were turning into gun-related charges, which was a real headache.

Chen Fan was indifferent, but the truth was, earning less was a fact.

Necessitated by circumstance, he would sometimes join his uncle’s hunting trips, which was a return to the familial trade.

But after joining a few times and seeing more, he started to fear it.

Those used to the sight of blood were truly wild.

Back at the workshop behind the room, Chen Fan stared blankly at the lathe in front of him.

He feared his fingerprints might be left at some crime scene.

Maybe not now, but what about in the future?

Therefore, he reasoned, if he could avoid providing fingerprints, he would.

If it really came down to it, destroying his fingerprints was also an option.

Chen Fan had once seen a boss who had destroyed his fingerprints with sulfuric acid.

It wasn’t just painful—it could also ruin a hand.

However, the effect was undeniably good.

From then on, whatever he did, he did with ease and without fear.

Grinding his hands against the lathe was one way to go about it.

At the very least, that would ruin his fingerprints, and then naturally, they couldn’t be recorded.

But that was quite risky.

The real fear was not hiding them, but raising suspicion instead.

Chen Fan looked at the lathe, lost in thought.

After pondering for a while, he steeled himself and thought, “Of all the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is best.

I might as well just get out of here now, in case there really is trouble later and I fall into the hands of these cops—that would be walking right into a trap.”

If anyone asked later, he would simply say he didn’t want his fingerprints taken, no big deal.

As for grinding off his fingerprints, there was no rush now— it would interfere with escaping, and it would certainly be excruciating.

If he really injured his hands in the process, that would be a loss not worth the risk.

Chen Fan counted on his craftsmanship for a living, earning money to play around with women.

Thump, thump, thump.

Someone knocked on the front door a few times before the doorbell rang incessantly.

Voices called out, “Boss?

Is the boss here?”

Chen Fan hesitated for a moment before pulling out his cell phone to check the surveillance camera, only to see several people in uniform wandering around the shop.

There was nothing to say about this; Chen Fan simply played dead, pretending he wasn’t there.

Meanwhile, the voices of a few people in the front of the shop were transmitted through the surveillance, coming out of the phone:

“What if the person isn’t here?”

“Make a call.

Dial the number on the door.”

As Chen Fan listened to the uniformed officers speak, he couldn’t help but smirk, taking out another cell phone and switching it to airplane mode.

“Can’t get through.”

“Should we check the next place first?”

The corners of Chen Fan’s mouth twitched involuntarily, as he thought to himself, that’s more like it.

Before that thought had even settled, Chen Fan saw one of the people, the tallest, say, “I’ll scan the boss’s fingerprint and have a look.”

Chen Fan was startled, then he heard someone in the surveillance ask, “Where should we get it from?”

“From the cashier’s.

It should all be the boss’s fingerprints.” While speaking, the tall figure began to busy himself with the task.

Chen Fan looked down at his own hands, then at the lathe, suddenly feeling a bit relieved.

Good thing for Bai Luo’s ten dexterous fingers.

In the front of the shop.

Jiang Yuan glanced at the cash register and recognized one of the fingerprints right away.

Mobilizing hundreds of people to fingerprint over twenty thousand citizens of Wen Township—wasn’t it all for this very fingerprint he was looking at now?

It could be said that this was the fingerprint Jiang Yuan was most familiar with at the moment.

“That’s it.

Let’s move on to the next one,” Jiang Yuan said, turning around and walking out without changing his expression.

There were four police officers on the scene, which was enough to arrest someone.

However, with the situation of the enemy unknown and the officers by his side unfamiliar, Jiang Yuan hadn’t said a word.

After stepping out, and walking two steps forward, Jiang Yuan finally took out his phone and said to the police officers beside him, “You guys handle this, I’m going to make a call.”

He dialed Liu Jinghui directly.

A quarter of an hour later, both ends of the busiest shopping street in Wen Township were blocked.

Liu Jinghui, wearing a bulletproof vest and helmet, followed a team of armed police directly toward the hardware store’s backyard.

He dared not take the lead himself.

Yet, he couldn’t feel at ease watching such an important suspect from the back either.

As for Jiang Yuan, he stood obediently among the crowd, standing with the people and craning his neck to watch.

The suspect was very likely armed with a powerful standard-issue firearm, and in such a situation, Jiang Yuan, who had never attended police academy, indeed did not even have the qualifications to secure the scene.

“Police!”

“Don’t move!”

“Hands on your head!”

“Kneel.”

“Face to the ground!”

The sudden burst of shouts, with the fresh scent of lethal pheromones, sent Jiang Yuan’s emotions surging in an instant.