Chapter 60: Examination (Please Continue Reading)

Ao Xi was startled and jerked around, only to find Mark, that troublemaker, behind him.

“What are you doing! You scared me out of my wits.”

He stood up, ready to take a swing at Mark, but seeing him fully armed, he reconsidered—no point picking a fight and suffering for it. He made a mental note; Mark now owed Ao Xi five meals.

“This is my girlfriend, Zhuo Ning. That’s enough, let go of her hand, stop holding it! Let go already! What are you doing here?”

Mark looked at him, exasperated, shaking his reddened hand from Ao Xi’s smack. “It was only two seconds of shaking hands, was that necessary? I got called in for emergency backup! Why are you two here? Still stuck in this inspection zone? Didn’t you get the call from headquarters?”

“I came with my girlfriend to listen to music, then the shooting happened. When we tried to escape, both our phones got knocked out of our hands, so we missed the call.”

“You two Chinese came to listen to gangsta rap?”

Zhuo Ning explained, “My professor assigned coursework that required listening to this music, so that’s why we’re here.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded and then suddenly froze. “Wait! You mean you were inside the music warehouse and witnessed the entire shooting?”

Ao Xi nodded, “Yeah, what about it?”

Mark shrieked and dashed off.

“Next time you see him, don’t shake his hand. He’s no good,” Ao Xi cautioned Zhuo Ning.

Zhuo Ning smiled and agreed.

Within moments, Mark returned, leading several others in a jog.

“Chief Mesa is here to coordinate the officers,” Mark winked at him.

Ao Xi had only met Chief Mesa a few times, but seeing him come out at night, unable to rest, made him genuinely happy.

Ao Xi stood at attention. “Good evening, sir.”

He’d show his joy when appropriate, and salute when necessary.

“Relax, young man,” Mesa said, nodding at Ao Xi. “I heard you witnessed the entire shooting firsthand. Can you describe it in detail?” He signaled a female officer to take Zhuo Ning aside for questioning.

“Yes, sir.” Ao Xi paused and gave Zhuo Ning a reassuring look. “My girlfriend and I came to listen to music. At first, it was lively. Then a rapper named Mango Foo came on stage and started a song, but before he finished, people started heckling. Some shouted, ‘Crip gang, drop dead!’ and ‘Bloods forever!’ Then the shooting began.

We ran outside, but shots kept ringing out in the warehouse—at least dozens. Some people even fired out from inside, causing chaos outside as well. We tried to drive away, but couldn’t get anywhere. Then my colleagues arrived.”

Mesa nodded, then asked quietly, “You’re Chinese—why would you listen to East Coast gangsta music?”

Ao Xi explained again, “My girlfriend studies at UCLA. She had to do coursework, so we came.”

“Do you remember what Mango Foo actually sang?”

“I don’t recall exactly, but I remember a few words—something like ‘shoutout the Klan.’”

“The Klan? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Mesa nodded. “That matches what I’ve heard.”

So why bother asking me, then?

Mark grinned. “You didn’t think we were clueless and couldn’t find anything out, did you? Look around—there are people everywhere, plenty who know what happened. We already asked and got answers. But you’re ‘one of us,’ so your word carries more weight.

Besides, you were stuck here—I had to let the Chief know.”

Ao Xi felt defeated. He’d thought he was offering key intel.

Mark sidled up, grinning, ready to explain why tonight’s shooting was such a big deal.

‘The Klan’ refers to the Ku Klux Klan, a group founded by white supremacists in 1866 to secure the dominance of white Protestant Americans over African Americans, Jews, Asians, and other immigrants.

This organization favored group gatherings, donned white hoods, burned crosses, and spread racist ideology, opposing civil rights laws and promoting racial discrimination. They committed lynchings and other violent acts, making them infamous for their brutality.

Their influence was once immense, but excessive violence and frequent lawsuits forced the organization to pay bail for members, who would then flee, leading to financial crises.

Many white politicians were once members, including President Truman, Alabama Democratic Senator Hugo Black (later Supreme Court Justice), and West Virginia Democratic Senator Robert Byrd, among others.

After years of violence, the FBI began a sustained crackdown, causing the Klan to decline. Yet even today, dozens or hundreds of branches and thousands of members remain nationwide, with signs of resurgence.

The reason: In March 2016, former Klan leader David Duke frequently voiced support for Trump, and Trump failed to clearly distance himself, sparking widespread speculation.

Ao Xi suddenly understood. No wonder the crowd grew restless when the rapper blurted out those lyrics—the root cause was here. The rapper was reckless; a black man could have just rapped about guns, money, women, drugs, and it would have been fine, but he had to court disaster.

Plus, the rapper had ties to the Crips. The Crips and Bloods had fought for decades. Things had calmed down lately, but conflict would still erupt.

Reyes nodded. “Confirmed, it was a small-scale gang clash. That’s a relief—as long as it’s not a planned, large-scale shootout, it’s manageable.”

Shootings aren’t terrifying—even with more casualties, it’s not the real danger. The scary part is when shootings have no clear motive, requiring extensive investigation to uncover hidden threats.

Moreover, most of the victims were black, which could easily be manipulated to guide public opinion.

But now, things were clearer. If black people fight among themselves, there’s nothing more to say.

Just then, the female officer returned with Zhuo Ning, showing Mesa her notebook. Her notes matched Ao Xi’s statement.

Mesa returned the notebook, pondering briefly. “Ao Xi, did you bring your gun when you went out?”

“I did. It’s a backup registered at the station. A team took it just now for ballistic testing.”

“That’s standard procedure. You know, someone may have fired in the warehouse, then slipped out early, mingling with the crowd as if nothing happened.

If we don’t check, some people could be missed—unforgivable.”

“I understand, Chief.”

“So, do you mind undergoing additional tests? If possible, your girlfriend should as well.”

Here it comes, old fox—laying the groundwork earlier, weren’t you?

“I don’t mind, sir. If I’m innocent, I have nothing to fear, and neither does my girlfriend.”

Zhuo Ning nodded as well.

“Excellent.” Mesa gave a signal, and someone brought out gunpowder residue test papers. The test detects gunpowder traces on skin, usually by two methods: One uses a cotton swab soaked in 5% nitric acid solution, swabbing the skin and examining residue—this takes longer and needs equipment.

The more common method uses test paper scraped over areas likely to pick up residue, then drops a solution of 1% diphenylamine or diphenylbenzidine in sulfuric acid onto the filter paper. If a blue reaction appears, it confirms nitrate ions—meaning gunpowder residue is present.