Chapter 389: The Real Demon

Translator: Lan Editor: Efydatia

Dazzling sparkles were ejected from the cold muzzle. The students screamed out. They broke the windows in an effort to escape from that hell. Blood was flowing around the hall during the afternoon tea break.

Qin Guan felt tired. He kicked a corpse away and picked up a cup of warm tea. White smoke was hovering over it. Before his lips could soak into the water, his partner walked in.

Feeling a little delight and excitement, Alex recalled the moment he had shot the principal in the head. He stopped Qin Guan, who was trying to drink the tea.

"Watch for herpes..." His voice sounded like the students’ who had used to bully Eric.

Qin Guan smiled dangerously and put the cup down gently. Gus pushed the camera forward to zoom in on his face.

There was an unyielding flame in Qin Guan’s eyes. "What about you? All dead?" he asked Alex calmly.

"I killed everyone in the principal’s office," Alex answered arrogantly, waving his smoking weapon around.

The boy, who admired Qin Guan a lot, wanted to share the joy of his success. Suddenly, Qin Guan took action though. He pointed his gun at Alex and shot him without hesitation.

Bang!

A bullet went through his blonde head, blood spraying against the white wall.

Alex had an incredulous expression on his face. He couldn't believe that his lover had killed him in such a calm way, although they had decided to commit suicide together.

Qin Guan stood up silently with a poker face, paying no attention to the corpses on the floor or to Alex, who had been talking to him one minute earlier. He was showing extreme indifference and brutality.

What Qin Guan had done was reasonable though. He wanted to find the most popular boy at school, the captain of the football team, the crush of every girl and the bully in his class.

That was the student who had thrown gum at his coat.

The boy and his girlfriend were hiding in the kitchen. The final shot had scared the girl and forced her to make a sound.

Qin Guan smiled suddenly, as if he had been relieved of a heavy load. Nobody felt relieved when they saw his smile though.

As he chewed gum, he recalled the past and pointed his gun in the right direction.

He went around corners fast. There were no cracks from the burning wooden stairs or screams from the escaping students. Only his unceasing steps echoed in the hall, announcing the arrival of death.

"Wow! Who is this? Guess who it is!"

Finally, the hunter had found his prey. Qin Guan's poker face changed, and his expression became arrogant and vindictive.

In the kitchen was a large freezer. The alarmed boy and girl were hiding between the freezer and the wall. The evil black figure finally entered the kitchen.

The scene stopped there abruptly, ending in an anticlimactic way.

Qin Guan held the gun silently for a minute before Gus shouted, "Okay... finish it!"

Everybody had thought that he had fallen asleep.

Qin Guan put the gun down, which was the most expensive prop in the entire film. Most of the budget had been spent on it.

Rubbing his arms, which had gone numb from maintaining that posture for so long, he asked Gus, "Are we finished, director?"

"Of course!" Gus answered without looking up, watching the playback in satisfaction.

"I think we need an ending scene to complete the story though. Why just stop there? What about Eric’s end?"

Gus reached the final frame and closed his hurting eyes. Then he smiled.

"This film is based on a real event. I don't need to shoot the aftermath. Nothing could be changed, neither in film or reality. It's not a commercial Hollywood film. No one will save the day, and no policemen will arrive in time to catch the culprit."

"The meaning of the film lies in its open ending. You can picture any possibility, or just rethink its most interesting points. Every character has their own story. Anyone could be the main character of the film."

"That’s enough for me. What about you?"

Qin Guan shrugged. He realized that Gus was very much like the directors of the 6th generation in China, who wore shabby clothes and gathered in old warehouses.

Directors of indie films were always different from ordinary people. They had their own unique way of thinking. Only someone with a common goal would be able to understand them.

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