Chapter 42: The Follow-Up Interview (Part 1)

[Chapter 42: The Follow-Up Interview (Part 1)]

After a barrage of gunfire, it finally came to a halt.

Ian saw three armed men reloading in the hallway through his vision.

He stepped out from behind the wall, fired two shots at the door, and took down one thug who was reloading right at the entrance.

The remaining two criminals, startled, ducked behind the wall and shouted, "Damn it, Lyre is dead!"

The continuous gunfire also alarmed the guests; most of them ducked under their beds, too scared to come out.

Yet, some fool actually opened the door to see what was happening. One of the gangsters pointed at him and yelled, "Get back in!"

The guest quickly retreated.

Just then, shots rang out again, and another thug was hit in the shoulder, rolling on the floor while shouting, "I've been shot!"

"Fuck!" The last thug fired wildly at the door.

Another barrage of bullets fired, and that thug grabbed his partner's weapon, kicked the door, and shouted, "Come out, you bastards!"

Ian furrowed his brow.

The guy wasn't reloading his gun, just switching weapons, and this time he wasn't firing indiscriminately.

Though he still stood foolishly at the door, Ian hesitated to rush in -- what if the guy fired just as he did?

After some thought, Ian picked up a vase and threw it outside, perfectly through the broken door.

The thug instinctively shot at the vase; Ian used his foresight to see that the thug's aim shifted. He burst out, shot at the thug, and took down another.

Two thugs were dead, and the remaining two were injured.

The two thugs shouted and turned their guns back at Ian, who quickly ducked away as bullets whizzed past his face once again.

...

Gaskill was terrified but bravely held onto his camera, recording everything, while Ian flashed a peace sign at the lens.

What a beautiful scene.

...

Through his vision, Ian saw that these guys had exhausted their bullets. He dashed out and fired at the fallen thug, who didn't even grunt before he expired.

Next, Ian turned his focus to the last thug, who had been hit in the shoulder.

That thug yelled, "I surrender!"

Bang!

Ian shot him right in the forehead, and he collapsed.

After this was done, Ian surveyed the four bodies on the floor, confirming they were all dead, before saying, "You can come out now; they're all gone."

...

Gaskill trembled but stepped out with his camera, taking in the horrific sight of the four bodies and blood staining the hallway.

Gaskill gulped, "You shouldn't have killed the fourth one; he surrendered."

Legally, Ian was in the clear for the first three, but the last one definitely shouldn't have been shot.

Ian smiled, "I didn't hear him."

Gaskill sighed, "It's all on tape."

"It can be edited," Ian replied.

Gaskill stared at him in disbelief. "Are you really a journalist?"

Ian smiled, "A versatile one. You know, there's such a thing as a war correspondent."

He told himself not to limit his opportunities; there would likely be more wars where he could pick up a story. But first, he needed his vision to upgrade further.

Damn it, what kind of vision did he need to survive on the battlefield? Could he choose his upgrade path?

These unanswered questions left Ian feeling regretful.

Gaskill, on the other hand, was just...

...

At that moment, Lena also mustered the courage to step out. Seeing the gruesome scene, her vision went dark, and she almost collapsed.

Gaskill couldn't help her since he was still holding the camera, but fortunately, Ian caught her and lifted her up. Accidentally, he brushed against her ample chest, prompting him to softly say, "Sorry."

Lena, however, didn't mind at all and wrapped her arms around his neck, excitedly exclaiming, "Thank you so much! You saved us, Ian!"

Uh-oh, no!

Ian felt his body instinctively react. "No big deal, but you should probably go change your clothes."

Lena suddenly realized, "Oh, God! My robe is about to fall off!"

She hurriedly ran back to her room to change.

Ian turned back to Gaskill and apologized, "That wasn't intentional."

Gaskill smiled, "Just cut that part out."

...

The police arrived 12 minutes later. By that time, Ian had completed all his photography work, edited the footage, and was writing up the story on his laptop.

By the time the police wrapped up their investigation, Ian would have already finished his report.

This time, Ian chose not to send it to CBS but to a news website he had worked with before. Internet media had the unique advantage of publishing directly after approval, resulting in the fastest speeds -- this story had to make the rounds first due to competition.

In order to buy time, Ian asked Gaskill to start answering the police questions first. By the time they got to him, he quickly finished his article and hit send.

It was slightly rushed and not as eloquent as he hoped, but speed was his priority. He could supplement the report with a follow-up in the morning's leading paper, creating a balance of coverage!

...

After sending the report, Ian stepped out to face the police questioning. His cover story was straightforward: he had seen the thugs enter the room to rob when they held guns, and since there were half-dressed women present, he was forced to shoot.

After reviewing everything, the police said, "Alright, we understand the situation. You have a gun permit and fired legally, but I still advise against leaving Oakland for a few days; we need to investigate and confirm the follow-up events."

"Understood, officer. I'll cooperate," Ian smiled in reply.

...

Just then, a group of reporters rushed in. With the bodies still on the floor, they frantically snapped pictures of the gruesome scene.

One angry policeman shouted, "Get out of here, you damn rats!"

The paparazzi completely ignored the police's urgency; a fatal gunfight didn't have any special mysteries -- the demand to protect the scene wasn't high, and they were simply after the thrilling violence.

The next moment, Ian pulled out his laptop and opened a webpage to show the reporters. "Too late, fellas; the news is already out."

What?

The reporters looked at the screen to see bold headlines and video. They wailed, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! How could it be so fast?"

And they even had gunfight footage?

What were they even doing?

Out of basic professional ethics, they took a few more shots and left. As far as selling those photos? Don't count on it.

Published news was worth less than an expired slice of bread.

...

With the chaos settled, everyone retreated to their rooms. Whether they could sleep afterward was debatable; some timid souls even fled into the night.

Lena didn't want to stay either, as no one liked the bloody stain outside.

Ian said, "Sorry, I can't leave."

"Why not?" Lena looked at Ian with bright eyes. "Someone just died here, and you want to stay?"

Ian hesitated, then said, "Actually, I still have some interviews to do."

"Interviews?" Lena gasped, clutching her chest.

Ian nodded, "It's a journalist's habit to keep digging for breaking news. If someone's death brings public interest, we usually interview people close to them, family, and those who went through the experience to extract every ounce of value... Good news shouldn't just consist of a single report; there are usually plenty of follow-ups."

"Oh, my God, that's so shameless!" Lena covered her adorable lips.

He was just prodding the wounds deeper!

The banker, however, looked wiser.

Gaskill gently coughed, "Lena, it's not shameless; it's commitment, it's hard work. Every profession has its principles. As a media professional, his responsibility is to seize every opportunity to gather as much information as possible. He even risks capturing a real gunfight... He may leverage others' pain for profit, but he's also putting his own life at stake. As a successful businessman, we often see those who can pursue significant events as worthy of trust and investment!"

At that moment, Lena had an epiphany.

After all, bankers were also known for their cutthroat nature! Their principle was always to provide shelter when it was sunny and take it back when it rained. Coming to Oakland meant they were likely scouting a target business for a storm.

Lena hurriedly said, "I'm so sorry, but..."

She glanced at her husband.

Gaskill suggested, "We can switch rooms."

He turned to Ian, "I guess you want to interview me too."

*****

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