COUGH, COUGH, COUGH, COUGH.
George Carter lay on the ground with bloodshot eyes, coughing exhaustively like a broken bellows.
For a moment there, he almost thought he was going to die from asphyxiation and brain hypoxia.
He could even imagine his own cold corpse, lying on the equally cold autopsy table in the Frankfurt Police Station's forensic lab, his eyes already void of color, staring at the ceiling, waiting for those familiar colleagues to perform the autopsy.
Thankfully, that didn't happen. The crazed, seemingly superhuman elderly woman didn't snap his neck. Instead, she spared him... for now.
"Little bro, why's your face so red?"
Li Ang gripped the coroner's collar, pulling him up, and asked with feigned warmth, "Are you cosplaying 'Po', the smallest and reddest character from the Teletubbies?"
"No, I'm not!"
George Carter, who stood at six feet tall, was hoisted into the air by Li Ang and shook his head in utter horror. "Whatever you want, I'll cooperate!"
