Law and Disorder

Section 1: The Incompetent Police Chief

Just as Chief Grayson was about to leave the police station’s break room, he casually picked up the score sheet recording everyone’s winnings and losses and began tearing it into tiny pieces.

“All right, boys! We’ve got a city to protect! Let’s move!”

“HEY! What the hell, Chief?! You were losing! How are we supposed to know who owes what now?!”

Grayson tossed the scraps into the trash and gave them a stern look.

“Enough of this nonsense! We’ve got more important things to worry about!”

“Oh, come on! You pull this crap every damn time!”

Ignoring their protests, Grayson marched toward the parking lot, with his fellow officers reluctantly following behind.

Outside, heavy rain poured down as Grayson stopped beside a patrol car, planted one hand on his hip, and pointed dramatically toward the street.

“Gentlemen! Tonight, we fight for justice! For peace! And for the safety of every citizen in our great Flushing City!”

His fellow officers walked straight past him without a word.

Grayson stood there awkwardly for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

Minutes later, their patrol car sped through the rain-soaked streets, its siren wailing.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over the police radio.

“Attention, all units! Suspect description confirmed. Male, extremely thin, unusually small eyes, distinctive facial hair, and reportedly wearing a pink apron. Last seen near Main Street and Holyshit Avenue.”

Grayson grabbed the microphone.

“Unit Seven responding! We’re in the area. Moving in now!”

Shortly afterward, the patrol car pulled up near an intersection lined with restaurants.

One officer glanced up at the street sign.

“Holy shit… Avenue. All right, we’re here!”

Through the heavy rain, the officers spotted a skinny, bald man smoking a cigarette in a nearby alley. He had unusually small eyes, a scruffy little beard, and a pink apron tied around his waist.

One officer leaned forward for a closer look.

“Hey, Chief… You sure that’s our guy?”

Grayson narrowed his eyes and nodded with absolute confidence.

“That’s him! No doubt about it! I never make mistakes! And if I’m wrong, I’ll eat that Holyshit sign!”

With their chief’s absolute assurance, the officers stepped out of the patrol car and approached the unsuspecting man.

Section 2: The Pink Apron

Fifteen minutes earlier…

Inside a busy noodle shop near Main Street, a skinny, bald man in a pink apron was busy chopping roasted ducks behind the counter.

After hours of preparing noodles, slicing meat, and packing endless takeout orders, he was completely exhausted. He glanced at the clock.

9:00 PM.

With the dinner rush finally slowing down, he slipped through the back door for a cigarette.

The restaurant didn’t allow regular breaks, but smoke breaks were perfectly fine. So whenever he needed a little rest, he simply went outside for a smoke.

He sat down on the concrete steps behind the restaurant, lit a cigarette, and took a long, satisfying drag.

“Ahhh… Finally! A little peace and quiet.”

His thoughts soon turned to his miserable paycheck and the rent due in three days.

“Man, I can’t keep doing this forever. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. Win the jackpot, retire early…”

He sighed.

“Otherwise, I’ll be chopping ducks till I’m seventy!”

With nothing better to do, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the news.

One headline immediately caught his attention:

“Maniac in Pink Apron Destroys Dozens of Storefronts!”

Curious, he opened the video and watched Raymond casually smashing glass windows with his bare fists.

The cook squinted at the screen.

“Holy crap… That guy kinda looks like me!”

He chuckled to himself.

“Bet he’s another kitchen worker who finally snapped. Can’t blame him! This job drives people nuts!”

He pocketed his phone and took another drag from his cigarette.

Suddenly, flashing red and blue lights flooded the alley.

A patrol car had pulled up nearby, and several police officers were marching toward him through the rain.

One officer pointed directly at the cook.

“HEY! YOU! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE ‘EM!”

The cook looked up from the steps, startled by the sudden shouting.

“Huh? Me? What’s going on?”

Another officer stepped forward, reaching for his handcuffs.

“GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! NOW!”

The cook scrambled to his feet, raising both hands in confusion.

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on! What did I do?!”

His cigarette slipped from his fingers and landed on the wet pavement as the officers rushed toward him.

Within seconds, he was surrounded, with no idea why the police were after him.

Section 3: Police Brutality 101

Before the cook could explain himself, several officers rushed forward and grabbed him.

Terrified, the cook immediately tried to surrender.

“Wait! Hold on! I surrender! I didn’t do anything!”

One officer twisted his arms behind his back and slapped on the handcuffs, while another shoved him face-first onto the wet pavement.

“STOP RESISTING!”

The cook’s voice trembled with fear.

“But I’m not resisting! I’m cooperating!”

Ignoring his pleas, the officers began kicking and punching him as he lay helplessly on the ground.

“Stay down, asshole!”

The cook begged desperately for mercy.

“I’m down! Please stop!”

Then he burst into tears, wailing like a frightened little child.

“WAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!”

But the beating continued.

The officers weren’t even angry at the cook. They were furious about having their card game interrupted, being forced to work late, and getting dragged out into the pouring rain. Now they finally had someone to take their frustrations out on.

For nearly ten minutes, they took turns beating him, repeatedly shouting that he was resisting arrest.

By the time they finally stopped, the cook was barely recognizable. His face was badly swollen, his clothes were torn, and his pink apron was stained with mud and blood.

He lay curled up on the wet pavement, struggling to catch his breath.

One officer crouched beside him and noticed his completely bald head.

“Hahaha! Look at this guy! Bald already at your age?! Damn, you look just like our Chief! Hahaha!”

The other officers burst into laughter.

Grayson, who had been standing nearby, suddenly fell silent.

Without a word, he slowly drew his police baton.

WHAAAAACK!

He swung it straight across the laughing officer’s mouth.

“AAAAAAAH!”

The officer staggered backward, clutching his face as blood streamed from his split lips.

The laughter stopped instantly.

Grayson glared at him.

“What the hell did you just say?! You want me to stuff you in a body bag and dump you into Flushing Bay?!”

The injured officer shook his head frantically.

“Oh no, Chief! No, Chief! Please don’t do that to me!”

“Then keep your damn mouth shut!”

From that night onward, the unfortunate officer would be known by a new nickname.

Broken Lips.

Section 4: Gangsterous Cops

Grayson turned toward the badly beaten cook, still gripping his bloodstained baton.

“HEY, YOU! Of all nights, you had to go smashing up the city in weather like this?! You got any idea what a pain in the ass it is for us to drag ourselves out here in the pouring rain?!”

Annoyed, Grayson casually smacked the cook on the head with his baton.

The cook lifted his swollen face and desperately pleaded with him.

“Chief, please! I’m not the guy you’re looking for! You’ve got the wrong man! I swear!”

Grayson crouched in front of him, looking thoroughly disgusted.

“You think that sob story’s gonna fool me?! I’m the Chief of Police! I’ve seen every trick in the book! Cut the cheap act!”

SLAAAAP!

He slapped the cook across the face.

“AAAAAH!”

Grayson stood up and turned to his officers.

“Come on, boys! Let’s teach this asshole one more lesson he’ll never forget!”

Without hesitation, the officers surrounded the helpless cook and began beating him all over again.

Punches and kicks rained down on him. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, all he could do was curl up and endure the blows.

“Please! No more! Please!”

But nobody paid him any attention.

As the beating continued, Grayson spotted something sticking out of the cook’s back pocket.

A wallet.

He casually pulled it out, flipped it open, and began counting the cash.

“Hmm… Not bad!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he stuffed every dollar into his own pocket and tossed the empty wallet into a muddy puddle.

The cook could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.

Grayson caught him staring.

“What the fuck are you looking at?! Never seen a cop rob somebody before?!”

He gave the cook another kick for good measure.

Suddenly, the cook began coughing violently. Blood poured from his mouth, spreading across the rain-soaked pavement.

The officers immediately stopped beating him.

One of them took a nervous step backward.

“Uh… Chief? I think we might’ve gone a little too far.”

Another officer stared at the growing pool of blood.

“Shit! What if he dies?! We’re gonna have a mountain of paperwork!”

Grayson glanced down at the barely conscious cook and shrugged.

“All right, brothers! Wrap it up! I think the lesson’s been delivered! Let’s call it a day!”

He put away his baton and carefully straightened his greasy combover.

“Get this scumbag back to the station!”

Two officers grabbed the cook and hauled him to his feet.

Barely able to stand, he stumbled between them, his pink apron soaked with rainwater, mud, and blood.

His hands were still cuffed behind his back.

And the Chief had already pocketed every dollar he owned.

Section 5: Oopsie Daisy!

Just as the officers were about to drag the cook back to their patrol car, a deafening crash erupted from across the street.

CRAAAAASH!

Everyone turned toward the noise. Under the streetlights, a skinny man in a pink apron was strolling along the sidewalk, smashing storefront windows as effortlessly as breaking sheets of paper. He had small eyes, distinctive facial hair, and long, curly hair soaked by the rain.

It was Raymond.

One officer stared at Raymond, then glanced at the completely bald cook. Suddenly realizing something, he pointed across the street.

“Oops, Chief! I think we made a slight mistake! That must be the real Raymond! He’s not bald after all!”

Grayson narrowed his eyes. He looked at Raymond, then at the battered cook, and finally back at Raymond. After a few seconds of careful inspection, he realized they had arrested the wrong man.

He cleared his throat and quickly regained his usual confidence.

“Ahem! It’s all right, boys! Nobody’s perfect! We all make mistakes! What’s important is that we learn from them!”

Grayson straightened his uniform, puffed out his chest, and paused dramatically. Then, like a commanding general addressing his troops, he suddenly roared at the top of his lungs.

“ISN’T THAT RIGHT?!”

The officers immediately snapped to attention and shouted in unison.

“YES, CHIEF!”

The cook slowly raised his swollen face, hardly believing what he had just heard.

“Chief… I told you… I’m innocent…”

Grayson’s expression instantly darkened. Without warning, he kicked the cook in the stomach.

“Then why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?! You wasted our damn time!”

The cook curled up in pain, barely managing to speak.

“I’ve been trying, man… I’ve been trying…”

Grayson paid him no further attention. Instead, he pointed toward Raymond and barked another order.

“All right, boys! There’s our real suspect! Let’s move!”

The officers immediately hurried toward Raymond. Still furious about having wasted his time, Grayson gave the cook one last irritated kick as he prepared to leave.

“Damn you, son of a bitch!”

He turned and marched away without another glance.

Unfortunately, that final kick sent the cook rolling backward across the slippery pavement. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling straight into an uncovered storm drain beside the curb.

Grayson had no idea what had happened.

A moment later, a desperate voice echoed from deep underground.

“HEY! YOU HAVEN’T UNCUFFED ME YET!”

But nobody even bothered to look back. The police were already closing in on Raymond.

Section 6: Raymond the Villain

The officers hurried down the rain-soaked street toward Raymond, who was still wandering along the sidewalk, leaving a trail of shattered storefronts behind him.

But as they drew closer, an unsettling feeling began creeping over them. Thick, dark mist surrounded Raymond’s entire body, and his eyes had turned completely black. The overwhelming aura of Dark Energy radiating from him was enough to send chills down their spines.

The officers stopped about ten meters away, suddenly reluctant to take another step.

Grayson, however, couldn’t afford to look weak in front of his men. He stepped forward, puffed out his chest, and pointed confidently at Raymond.

“Hey, you! The criminal in the pink apron! Surrender immediately, or we’ll unleash the full wrath of the law!”

Raymond didn’t even acknowledge him. He simply stood in the pouring rain, his pitch-black eyes staring blankly ahead.

The officers exchanged nervous glances. Even Grayson felt a chill running down his spine, though he struggled to maintain his commanding expression.

Just then, a pretty young woman with long black hair arrived on an electric delivery scooter. She was wearing a delivery jacket, with a large insulated food bag attached behind her seat.

Noticing the police confronting someone, she slowed down and pulled over. But the moment she caught sight of the man in the pink apron, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wait a minute… Raymond?!”

She quickly got off her scooter and approached the officers.

“Excuse me, officers! What’s going on here? Why are you going after him?”

Grayson turned toward her, still trying to look authoritative.

“Ma’am, stay back! That man is a dangerous criminal! He’s been smashing storefronts all over Flushing City!”

The woman stared at Raymond, struggling to believe what she was hearing.

“What?! Raymond?! A criminal?! That can’t be right! I know him! He’s the owner of Ray’s Bakery!”

She took another look at his completely black eyes and the strange mist surrounding his body. Her shock quickly turned into concern.

“He’s always been such a nice guy! I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never seen him like this before! Officers, please be careful! Something’s seriously wrong with him!”

Grayson glanced briefly at Raymond before turning his attention back to the young woman.

For the first time since arriving at the scene, the dangerous criminal standing just ten meters away was no longer his main concern.

The Chief took a closer look at her pretty face and long black hair. Then his eyes slowly wandered downward, eventually settling on her chest.

A completely different thought crossed his mind.

Section 7: Abusing Authority 101

Grayson immediately put on his most charming smile and approached the young delivery woman.

“Well, well! Don’t you worry, miss! You’re in good hands! Really good hands! As Chief of Police, I personally guarantee your safety!”

He casually placed a hand on her shoulder, flashing a sleazy grin and giving her a suggestive wink.

“Now, I understand you’re worried about your friend. But dealing with dangerous criminals is our specialty! Just leave everything to us!”

As he spoke, his hand slowly crept down from her shoulder toward her chest.

The woman immediately caught his wrist and politely guided his hand back onto her shoulder.

“Uh… Thank you, Chief. I really appreciate your help.”

Grayson grinned as though nothing unusual had happened.

“Of course! Protecting beautiful young ladies like you is exactly why I became a police officer!”

His hand began wandering downward again.

Without missing a beat, the woman caught his wrist a second time and firmly returned his hand to her shoulder. She forced a nervous smile, clearly uncomfortable but afraid of offending the Chief of Police.

Grayson leaned closer, his greasy combover glistening under the streetlights.

“Say, miss! Once we’ve taken care of this criminal, how about you and I grab a nice dinner together? My treat!”

The woman hesitated, glancing nervously toward her delivery scooter.

“Um… That’s very kind of you, Chief, but I still have a lot of deliveries to finish tonight…”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be shy! It’s not every day a beautiful lady gets a personal invitation from the Chief of Police!”

She let out an awkward little laugh, desperately searching for a polite way to escape the conversation.

“Uh… Well… I’ll have to see…”

Grayson immediately broke into a delighted grin, taking her uncertain answer as a promising sign.

“Hahaha! Excellent! We’ll talk about it after I finish saving the day!”

He finally removed his hand from her shoulder and turned back toward Raymond, who was still standing motionless in the pouring rain.

The Chief straightened his uniform, carefully adjusted his greasy combover, and raised his police baton.

“All right, boys! Enough fooling around! Time to bring this criminal to justice!”

The officers tightened their grips on their batons, exchanging uneasy glances as they stared at the dark figure ahead.

Grayson puffed out his chest and took a confident step forward.

“Let’s show this bastard what the Flushing City Police Department is made of!”

Raymond remained completely silent, his pitch-black eyes fixed straight ahead as thick Dark Energy continued swirling around his body.

The officers had no idea what they were about to face.