The Devil Comes to America

Chapter 143 Abnormality
Lucas stared at the scene in front of him with a grim expression. The burning flames seemed to be burning his heart.

Contraband can be burned at will in the slums, so what if it's all over Los Angeles?
The worst off are the guys in the slums.

But it’s not right to burn it here!
Lucas now just wanted to grab Xiunuo's collar and ask him loudly, "No work, right? No work, right?!"

What else can you do besides burning contraband?

Although these rich people have some "quirks", you can't come up and treat them so harshly!
Lucas didn't know how much was in the car, but judging by the thick smoke, it was probably quite a lot.

Someone had already opened the door, with a smile on his face: "Hey, Mr. Officer, are you done?"

Seeing that this guy still looked rational, Lucas quickly said, "It's still dangerous here, sir, please go back quickly."

Lucas looked at his team members and said, "Contact the fire department! Quick!!"

The man who came out looked at the burning truck and slapped his forehead: "It seems you need our help, officer!"

The man said this and ran back into the house, and when he came out, he was holding a bottle of Perrier in his hand.

Lucas thought that the man holding a bottle of mineral water worth more than ten dollars was trying to thank him. He was still thinking about whether to take it or refuse it, when he saw the man running to the burning car with the mineral water, unscrewing the bottle cap and pouring the water in.

Lucas was stunned. What are you doing?
"It's no use." The man took a deep breath and continued to run into the house. When he passed Lucas, he said, "There are many police officers in my house!"

A masked police officer walked over and looked at the man who went back into the house and took out a box of mineral water. He asked in confusion, "Is this how rich people put out fires?"

Lucas was so angry that he cursed: "He's fucking high and you're high too, right? Go get medical help! Then contact LAPD and evacuate everyone here immediately! What the hell were you doing just now, you idiot?"

Lucas ran towards the man and shouted, "Hey, hey, sir, no need. We have already contacted him."

The police officer felt unhappy when he saw Lucas coaxing and deceiving the man back into the house.

"I had two fevers worse than this before, and I didn't say anything about contacting medical help."

Fortunately, Lucas didn't hear this.

The fire department was the first to arrive. The last fire was much bigger than this one, but they didn’t arrive so quickly.

Lucas's men didn't dare to leave either. They had to make sure everyone stayed at home and didn't rush out and dive into the fire after getting high.

The burning flames were quickly put out, and the medical help Lucas called for was proactive.

Because there were already a few guys who were smoking so hard that they were puffing.

The LAPD was the last to arrive. Lucas was a little surprised to see his old friend: "Jim, you are the chief now, do you still need to go to the scene in person?"

"Shut up, Lucas! You'd better tell me what's going on here!" Jim's face was terribly dark: "Why are there drug dealers here! Damn it, can you DEA be more reliable? I thought I could have an easier time as the director, but you guys are really going to cause me a big mess!"

Jim's identity was different now, and Lucas no longer had the arrogance he had when they first met. He just explained, "It's not our fault. We were just trying to catch a drug dealer, but the boss ran away. How could we not chase him? Then this bastard drove here. We wanted to kill him in the car, but we didn't do that because we considered where this place is!"

"So, Lucas! So you guys just blew up this car! And filled this neighborhood with the sweet, sick smell of contraband, huh?"

"First of all, we didn't know there were contraband items inside." Lucas's face was a little angry. "Secondly, God knows how this car caught fire! I hit a person!"

"Do you know what this bastard is going to do? He parked his car here, ready to grab someone hostage! What else can we do except shoot, and the bastard shot at us first!"

Jim curled his lips. "It's no use explaining this to me, Lucas. You should think about how to explain it to your boss, the Los Angeles City Hall, and the people living here. Oh! Damn it, someone should stop him!"

Jim glanced in that direction and was immediately startled to see a man lying on the ground chewing grass.

"Where's the doctor? Get a doctor over here to check it out!"

A police officer ran over and said, "Chief, I think we'll need reinforcements."

Jim was stunned: "Isn't it enough that I brought thirty people?"

"Obviously not qualified to be the chief." The police officer pointed at the guy who was chewing grass and was now being pulled up by medical staff. "He said he was a sheep and said that we are all happy sheep. This is not an isolated case."

The police officer said helplessly: "Did you see the third house, Chief? A big poodle in that house is beating a doll."

"Is this something new? Isn't it said that the poodle is also a kind of teddy dog?"

"It's not about the dog, it's about the owner who was also doing the same thing to the poodle when we pulled them apart and he was saying they were really in love."

"So Chief, I think we need more people, knocking on doors to make sure these residents are safe, or... whatever is in their homes is safe."

Jim: “.”

He looked at Lucas, "Look what you've done Lucas!"

Lucas's expression at this moment was so aggrieved.

Police cars appeared in this community one after another, and those who didn't know would think that some major case had occurred.

Someone posted the video online, and people began to speculate whether a crime had occurred. Someone commented: "The people who live here are either rich or powerful. Could someone have died? I see police cars and fire trucks are here. There are also quite a few ambulances."

But someone immediately retorted: "Do we need so many police officers to come because one person died? Look at those police cars. There should be at least 30 of them, right?"

The guy who posted the comment was a little unhappy: "If not so many, how many should come?"

The guy who refuted it also had a point: "How would I know how many police officers should come? But when my dad was shot and killed at home, only two police cars came."

The guy who posted the comment was enjoying the air conditioning at the moment. He looked at the reply on his phone, typed several letters and then deleted them all. He had repeated this action many times.

In the end, he could only say in a very frustrated tone: "Sorry."

However, someone soon gave the correct answer.

"I got the news from my buddies at the LAPD. They said the DEA was chasing a drug dealer. The dealer drove his car into this community and started a gunfight with the DEA. Then, for some reason, the dealer's car full of contraband exploded. So many ambulances went there to save the guys here, and so did the police."

But under the video that tells the truth of the matter, people's reactions are different.

"Damn it! These rich bastards, they even want to snatch free contraband from us!"

A group of people below called him a psycho.

But more people were mocking, saying things like, "This isn't the first time this has happened in Los Angeles. The previous fire in downtown was worse than this, but were there half as many police cars and ambulances back then as there are now? I went to the emergency room at the hospital and was told I had to wait in line for four hours."

"Four hours is not bad, man. When I found myself hallucinating, I went to the hospital. They told me that I would have to wait until five days later. I actually went back. When I woke up the next day, I thought that five days later was just an illusion. It wasn't until I received a call from the hospital that I realized it was real!"

This incident wasn't actually that popular, but there were quite a few people who came to watch for fun.

After all, this time, no matter the amount of burns, the duration of burns, or the scope of impact, it is completely incomparable to the previous two times. Most people come here just for the fun of watching the rich get into trouble.

When Lucas returned to the office, he wished all the drug dealers were killed.

You can run if you want, but what's the point of running with the contraband? If you had gone to another place, I might have let you go!

Lucas wanted to contact Xiunuo, but found that he couldn't get in touch with him at all.

Lucas really wanted to scold Xiunuo, but he knew he didn't dare.

He wants to pass the buck, but this time they are all his own people, who can he pass it to?

He wanted to pretend to be dead, but the place where the contraband was burned this time was so bad that even if he really died, he would be dug out of the grave and whipped.

Lucas even suspected that the hoodie man was trying to kill him.

No. He didn't need to do this to kill himself.

Lucas could only pray now that the credit of busting up a gang and arresting a bunch of criminals with solid evidence could offset this mess.

So, Lucas stayed up all night and started to organize the evidence.

The next morning, Lucas turned on the TV and, as he expected, the mainstream media reported last night's events in a big way, and then used all the critical words they could to criticize the DEA's mistakes.

Lucas was annoyed. When you scolded Tolan, you didn’t scold me as harshly as I did!

Lucas had already anticipated that what would follow would probably be a scolding call from his boss, and a group of reporters blocking the door waiting to interview him, and then asking questions that would make him wish he died.

He decided not to go out and continued to organize the evidence.

It was not until the afternoon that Lucas returned to his office exhausted.

His partner is waiting here.

Lucas walked in and collapsed on his sofa exhaustedly, his tone filled with helplessness: "Tell me, old friend, how many calls came in today to scold us?"

His partner pursed his lips and said, "There was no call from the head of the phone, only from the old boss. He urged us to quickly collect the evidence and hand it over to him."

Lucas was stunned: "Didn't they come to scold us?"

"Yes."

"Where are the reporters? Are there any reporters?"

“There’s no head either.

"Didn't they scold us on the show? The trolls on the Internet didn't scold us as badly as they did. Why didn't they show up?"

The old partner looked puzzled: "I was thinking about this question too. Were we also high and haven't woken up yet?"

At this moment, Lucas was completely stunned.

What's happening here?
(End of this chapter)