The Devil Comes to America

Chapter 116 Irony
"How did these people become like this?"

Jim frowned as he looked at the bodies in front of him.

Robin stood aside, his mouth twitching, "Is there some kind of irreconcilable hatred between them? These people are about to be shot into watering cans."

"Who says it's not true? I just saw a guy whose head was chopped off. I thought he was very miserable, but compared to these guys, that guy was actually quite lucky."

Jim said as he walked forward and came to an elevator shaft.

At this time, many police officers were trying to endure the discomfort in their stomachs and fished out the bodies one by one after collecting evidence.

"I don't know how to tell their families how they died. The internet has gone crazy." Jim's expression was a little heavy: "This kind of thing shouldn't happen in this civilized country."

"But it happened more than once. I might be transferred next." Robin said and looked at Jim: "LAPD, who do you think will take over this case?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "There should be no one else except me, right?"

"Finally, I heard some good news." Robin patted Jim on the shoulder and said, "Let's work together. You guys investigate this side, and I'll investigate the people behind."

Jim's face changed: "You are going to die!"

Robin took a deep breath and said, "I don't have a family, Jim. I was the one who stopped you from investigating this matter. Everything that happened here is my responsibility. Before I am transferred, everything here must be resolved as soon as possible."

Robin said as he walked out.

"Where are you going?"

"The Kovo Group, their headquarters is in Los Angeles, right?"

Jim shook his head slightly as he watched Robin leave.

There was one thing he didn't say.

I might be fine. The illegal immigrant could find the lair of these people in less than a day, and solve the problem here and expose it in one night.

It should be much safer for me to work with him now than with Robin.

Therefore, I am not necessarily in danger, but you, the FBI, are the real danger.

Hogan came up with a pale face and said, "Boss, what should we do with these bodies?"

"What else can we do?" Jim said helplessly, "After all the investigations and evidence collection are completed, send the body to the morgue of the hospital that we are cooperating with."

As soon as Jim said this, his phone rang.

Jim answered the phone, and Hansen's voice came from the other end of the phone: "Jim, I heard that he went to investigate that case. For the sake of our schoolmates and old friends, I can tell you clearly that you should not touch this case!"

"I don't have a choice, Chief," Jim replied.

"What do you mean you have no choice! How many years do you have left to retire? Five years? Or seven years? You have worked in the LAPD for more than 20 years, what do you plan to end up with? I wrote a letter of recommendation and handed this matter to Wilson, the idiot. If he can't handle it well, you will be the next chief!"

Jim thought about it and replied, "I didn't get to choose the chief. The LAPD has to do its job, right?"

"Are you crazy? We've known each other for almost thirty years, how come I never knew you were a good police officer!"

"Thank you for your concern, Chief. I know what to do. I wish you a happy retirement." Jim hung up the phone. He had no choice. If he thought Xiu Nuo was making fun of him last night, Jim now knew that the illegal immigrant might really have a way to do it.

Moreover, where is the core evidence of this case?
In the hands of that illegal immigrant! He really showed Jim that he had a chance to become director.

Most importantly, Jim knew that if he didn't do what he said, his fate might not be much better than those watering cans.

In downtown Los Angeles, a black man looked at the seven or eight people scattered around him and shouted in dissatisfaction: "What's going on? Didn't we say there would be a protest march today? Didn't our brothers see that those white people openly discriminated against us?"

"Or are they just doing well these days and don't need to go to the store to get something new?"

"There's no one here today, boss." A black guy looked at his phone and said, "Not to mention that we have no one here, even the group that opposed Xiong En has no one here. You know, although there was a riot during the march yesterday, it united those guys, but now..."

The younger brother handed over the phone: "Our people, including those guys' people, are all here."

The black man looked at the screen of his mobile phone and found that a building was surrounded by a crowd of protesters.

"What is this place?"

"From the wording, it seems to be something called Kovo. Some people say that the laboratory is their property."

"Isn't this too fast? How much does it cost to hold the sign over there?"

"It seems like many people went there spontaneously." The younger brother stood up and said, "Boss, let's change the day for our protest. I'm going to join in the fun, too."

The black boss suddenly became anxious: "Are you sick? We don't even know whether this is true or not. Why would you go there if you don't get paid?"

"I'm not sick, but my grandfather is, and he's from San Francisco." The black man calmly explained: "My father told me that he was on his way home, and in order to get home faster, he took a road that black people were not allowed to take at the time. After a white person called the police, he was arrested and thrown into jail."

"In prison, he heard that if he became a volunteer for a research project at the University of California, he could get a reduced sentence and receive US dollars, so he went. There were more than 2,000 people who went there at the time. In the end, do you know what this volunteer did?"

The gangster shook his head: "What? Drug experiment?"

"If it was just a drug experiment, I would thank God. Because maybe it would be the kindest thing for them to let these 'volunteers' use drugs with strong side effects. But the reality is that they will apply some highly toxic liquids on people to observe their reactions."

The black boss' eyes widened: "Motherfucker! What a bunch of bastards!"

"Don't get so excited, boss, because this is not the most unacceptable thing. You would never imagine that they would actually inject herbicides and disinfectants into people's bodies, and even inject them intravenously to observe people's reactions. Can you imagine that members of a well-known university would inject that stuff into people's bodies?

So, Boss, I don’t care whether this is true or not, because I know it must be true! "

The gangster's face almost turned red with anger: "This is fucking murder! Those bastards must have received the most severe punishment, right? Tell me! This must be the ending!"

But the black man laughed. "This happened fifty years ago. Everyone condemned that top university at the time. But the irony is that it wasn't until a year ago, yes, a year ago, that the University of California, San Francisco finally apologized and admitted that the experiment was conducted using 'questionable methods'. One of the two guys who conducted the experiment wrote an apology letter to the school. Damn it, he only apologized to the school."

The gangster clenched his fists: "What about the other one? He must have been torn to pieces, right?"

“Are you talking about William Epstein?” The black man shook his head slightly. “It’s a shame, sir, he’s alive and well, and he didn’t even apologize.”

"FUKC!" The gangster stood up and said, "Come on guys! Let's go to the Kovo Building today to see if there's anything we need!"

"I'll give you ten minutes to call your family and ask your mom what's missing at home!"

(End of this chapter)