John, still holding the loudspeaker, was stunned when Yang Xu requested he call someone over. "You want to make this a spectacle?" he asked, incredulous.
"Hehehe... haha..." A chilling laugh echoed from the hostage's phone. "Exactly, Sheriff. You're catching on!"
"I want reporters and the Police Commissioner here. I want to play a game." Yang Xu paused, then added, "But first, if I detect any attempts to cut power, send in armed men, or use smoke bombs, I'll do something irrational. Like shooting hostages or blowing up the bank."
"As a premeditated murderer, you know I'm capable of it, Sheriff." He softened his tone. "Your cooperation determines everything. Don't disappoint me."
John, seething, slammed his fist on a squad car. He grabbed the intercom, his voice tight. "Operation canceled. Retreat!"
The SWAT team, without question, withdrew.
"Good and obedient," Yang Xu said. "Now, you have half an hour to meet my demands. Don't make me unhappy." He hung up.
The hostage, as if in a trance, crawled back into the bank.
"Damn thugs," John muttered, grabbing a police-checked cell phone. "Report to Chief Stancy. Get his permission before contacting the press."
Inside, the hostage quickly dismantled the "bomb" – a paper tube filled with toilet paper.
Yang Xu, unfazed, tossed him a wad of cash. The man, no longer trembling, thanked him profusely, his eyes gleaming.
"I reward those who work for me," Yang Xu said, his voice smooth.
He sat on a suitcase overflowing with money, surrounded by stacks of bills. He gestured to a thin, blond young man.
The young man, his eyes fixated on the money, wore a cheap suit that hinted at his desperation.
Yang Xu crumpled some bills and tossed them at him. "What's your name?"
"Joey! Joey Morritt!" he stammered, clutching the money.
"And what's your dream, Joey?"
"Money. My family needs surgery. I need a lot of money!"
"I like smart people. What can you offer?"
"Anything," Joey said, his voice trembling. "Just pay me."
"Hehehe... haha..." Yang Xu laughed, then gestured with his gun. "Come and get it. How much is enough?"
Joey, glancing at the other hostages, cautiously approached the pile of money. He stuffed his pockets, his movements becoming increasingly frantic.
The other hostages watched, their eyes filled with envy and greed.
If Yang Xu hadn't been armed, they might have rushed him.
Joey, finally satisfied, glared at his former fellow hostages.
The bank was now divided.
"What about you?" Yang Xu asked, his voice laced with temptation. "What's your dream?"
Six men, their faces etched with hardship, stood up, their eyes gleaming.
"Joey, get their information," Yang Xu ordered.
The men eagerly traded their personal details for cash.
The newly formed group, now armed with stolen money and a sense of power, glared at the remaining hostages.
Fueled by Yang Xu's manipulation and the allure of easy money, more hostages joined the chaos, including the bank manager and wounded guards.
Once the mountain of cash was distributed, Yang Xu stood up.
He, with the manager's help, downloaded the security footage and deleted the originals.
He surveyed his new "team," a group of energized hostages ready for a fight. "Unqualified juniors, assemble!"
Unbeknownst to the police outside, the hostages were now firmly on Yang Xu's side.
A cell phone rang.