As expected, upon hearing Zhao Youzhi's words, the middle-aged police officer nodded and said:
"Rest assured, we will handle this case diligently."
"Thank you, thank you."
Zhao Youzhi repeatedly expressed his thanks, then glanced at Zhang Xiaomeng and said:
"Officer, this boy is the murderer. Why haven't you cuffed him yet? If he runs away, that would be troublesome."
After finishing his sentence, he turned to Zhang Xiaomeng and said:
"Zhang Xiaomeng, you shameless bastard, how dare you injure my son! Just wait, once you're detained, I will immediately find a lawyer. If you're not sentenced to ten or eight years, I'm not called Zhao Youzhi."
"I've said it was self-defense, there is no wrongdoing on my part. They won't detain me, and they certainly won't convict me."
Zhang Xiaomeng's expression was calm, but his tone was firm and decisive.
"Whether it is self-defense or not is for us, the police, to determine. Put your hands out and spare me the talk."
