American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

“But that would require investigating all twelve cases,” Lynn said. “That would take a lot of time and resources.”

“I know,” Sarah said, “so I have a suggestion.”

"What suggestion?"

“Transfer this case to the Economic Crimes Unit,” Sarah said. “They have a dedicated team for corporate crime, with more resources and expertise. This kind of large-scale investigation is a better fit for them.”

Lynn fell silent, understanding that Sarah's suggestion stemmed from rational consideration. The Economic Crimes Unit was indeed better suited to handle such complex corporate conspiracy cases.

“And,” Sarah continued, “you’ve seen it too, there are powerful forces behind this case. They can influence judges and hire the best lawyers. If we continue to work alone, we might encounter even more obstacles. The Economic Crimes Unit has greater authority and more political support.”

“I understand your concerns,” Lynn said, “but I cannot agree.”

“Why?” Sarah asked, somewhat surprised. “Lynn, this isn’t the time to act impulsively. We need to practically consider how to bring these people to justice most effectively.”

“That’s precisely why I can’t transfer the case,” Lynn said, walking to the window and looking at the city at night. “Sarah, you’re right, there are powerful forces behind this. But that’s also why this case can’t be handed over to other departments.”

“I don’t understand,” Sarah said, frowning.

Lynn turned around. "Do you think the Economic Crimes Unit won't encounter the same obstacles? The same political pressure? The same judicial interference? Graystone Capital can influence one judge, so they can influence many more. They can bribe one lawyer, so they can bribe an entire department."

"But at least the economic crime unit has more resources—"

“Resources aren’t the key,” Lynn interrupted her. “The key is will. This kind of case requires more than just resources; it requires a relentless pursuit of the truth at all costs. The Economic Crimes Unit agents are professional, but they don’t understand this case. They haven’t seen Jack lying in a pool of blood, haven’t seen the fear in Mrs. Morrison’s eyes, haven’t heard the voices of those desperate workers.”

Sarah listened quietly without arguing.

“Furthermore,” Lynn continued, “large departments have their own problems. More people mean more vulnerabilities, more points of potential infiltration. A company of Graystone's caliber could very well have connections within the FBI. Once the case is transferred, the news could quickly reach their ears, and then all the evidence would vanish without a trace.”

“You mean there’s corruption within the FBI?” Sarah asked in a low voice.

“I’m not saying it’s possible, but I can’t rule it out,” Lynn said truthfully. “Sarah, how long have you been working for the FBI?”

Six years.

“Then you must have seen some things,” Lynn said. “You should know that when a case involves enough money and power, nothing is impossible. I’m not doubting our colleagues, but I need to be vigilant.”

Sarah was silent for a moment, then said, "So what do you plan to do? Take on the entire Graystone Capital and the forces behind them with just the few of us?"

“It’s not about confrontation, it’s about outsmarting them,” Lynn said. “We don’t need to be stronger than them, we just need to be smarter. Find that indefensible evidence, that undeniable truth. Then, no matter how many lawyers they have, or how much money they have, it won’t matter.”

“It sounds idealistic,” Sarah said, but there was no longer any objection in her tone.

“Perhaps,” Lynn admitted, “but sometimes we need to be idealistic. If we shrink back every time we encounter difficulties, if we give up every time we face a powerful opponent, then justice will never be served.”

He walked back to Sarah's desk. "I understand your concerns, Sarah. This case is indeed very dangerous and difficult. If you want to withdraw, I won't blame you. You've already done a lot, and no one can ask you to take any more risks."

Sarah looked at Lynn, remained silent for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Do you think I'm the kind of person who gives up halfway?"

"I just want to give you a choice."

“Then I choose to continue,” Sarah said firmly, “not for anything else, but for the workers who were exploited, for Jack, and for this damn justice.”

Lynn smiled. "Thank you."

“However,” Sarah said, “we need to act more intelligently if we are to move forward. Our resources are limited and cannot be wasted on ineffective investigations.”

“Agreed,” Lynn said, “so we’ll focus our efforts on a few key points.”

He walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and began writing down the action plan:
“First, Paul Jenkins, the factory accountant. He's the weakest link. Our first priority tomorrow is to find him and put pressure on him.”

"Second, the old dock warehouse. Send a team to search it and see if they can find any remaining evidence or clues."

"Third, track down that silver-gray Mercedes. Use the logo and model number to filter for potential owners and find the man in the suit who met with Mark."

"Fourth, continue to monitor Mark Darwin. Although he has been released on bail, his movements are restricted. Keep a close eye on him, see where he goes and who he meets."

"Fifth, conduct a thorough investigation into Greystone Capital's past acquisitions. If a pattern can be found, proving systemic crime, we can bring them down on a higher level."

After finishing writing, Lynn took a step back and examined the plan. "This is all we can do, with minimal resources, targeting the most critical objectives."

“There’s one more thing,” Sarah added, “We need legal support. Without the prosecutor’s cooperation, even if we find evidence, we might not be able to prosecute.”

“You’re right,” Lynn nodded. “I’ll contact the prosecutor’s office and find a prosecutor we can trust.”

"who?"

“Prosecutor Emily Chan,” Lynn said, “I’ve worked with her a few times before. She’s honest and unafraid to offend powerful people. Plus, she’s a labor law expert and very passionate about these kinds of cases.”

“That’s great,” Sarah said. “We really need a strong legal ally.”

The two discussed some details and planned their actions for the next day. They didn't finish their discussion until midnight, when they prepared to go home and rest.

As Lynn and Sarah walked out of the office building, they headed side by side towards the parking lot. The night air was cool, carrying a hint of autumn.

“Lynn,” Sarah suddenly said, “I have a question.”

"what is the problem?"

“Why are you so obsessed with this case?” Sarah asked. “I mean, we’ve handled a lot of cases, but I’ve never seen you this invested. Is it because of Jack? Because he almost died?”

Lynn thought for a moment. “Part of it is Jack. Seeing a good man get hurt for doing the right thing makes me angry. But more importantly…” He stopped and looked at the night sky. “More importantly, this case represents a much bigger problem. The rich and powerful manipulate the law, exploit the desperation of ordinary people for their own profit, and then use money and power to evade responsibility. If we let them get away with it this time, we are telling everyone that justice can be bought, and the law serves the rich.”

“But isn’t that just reality?” Sarah said somewhat pessimistically. “The rich always have more resources and better lawyers.”

“Yes, that’s often the reality,” Lynn admitted, “but that doesn’t mean we should accept it. Every time we successfully bring a wealthy and powerful criminal to justice, we are telling society that the law still has meaning and justice still exists. These small victories accumulate and slowly change this imperfect system.”

Sarah looked at Lynn, her eyes sparkling with understanding and respect. "I understand. That's why you're such a good agent."

“I’m just doing what I think is right,” Lynn said. “And right now, what I think is right is to put Graystone Capital and Mark Darwin in jail at all costs.”

“See you tomorrow,” Sarah said. “Get some rest; tomorrow will be a long day.”

"See you tomorrow," Lynn replied.

On her drive home, Lynn's phone rang. It was a call from the night shift expert in the technical department.

“Agent Holt, this is Marcus from the technical department,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “We have the results for the IP address you asked me to track.”

“Speak,” Lynn immediately focused her attention.

“The person who posted that message used a VPN, but not a very professional one,” Marcus said. “I traced the original IP address to an internet cafe in the small town of Hudson.”

"cybercafe?"

“Yes, it’s called ‘Digital Space Internet Cafe,’ on Main Street,” Marcus said. “According to the timestamp, the post was published at 3:15 a.m..”

"An internet cafe is still open at 3 a.m.?"

“That internet cafe is open 24 hours,” Marcus said. “I looked it up, and it mainly caters to night shift workers and gamers.”

“Very good,” Lynn said. “I’ll go to that internet cafe tomorrow and see if I can find the CCTV footage or registration records from that night.”

“There’s one more thing,” Marcus said. “I traced that IP address to several other websites that same night, including Greystone Capital’s internal email system.”

This information excited Lynn. "Are you sure?"

“Confirmed,” Marcus said. “Although I can’t access their system, I can see the access records. This indicates that the person who posted this has a direct connection with Graystone Capital.”

“Great, this is an important lead,” Lynn said. “Marcus, well done. Send me all the technical reports; we might need them tomorrow.”

“It’s already been sent to your email,” Marcus said.

At six o'clock the next morning, Lynn had already assembled a small task force in his office. In addition to Sarah, there were two experienced agents—Michael Brown, who was in charge of financial investigations, and Emily Rodriguez, who was skilled in on-site evidence collection.

“We’re going to be operating on multiple fronts simultaneously today,” Lynn said in front of the whiteboard. “Time is of the essence. Once Graystone Capital realizes we’re closing in, they’ll destroy all the evidence.”

"Specific division of labor?" Michael asked.

“Sarah and I are going to find Paul Jenkins,” Lynn said. “He’s the factory accountant, and he’s likely an inside man. We need to find him before he starts work, without giving him any time to prepare.”

“I’m going to the old dock warehouse,” Emily said, “with a team of investigators.”

“Michael, you’re in charge of tracking that silver-gray Mercedes,” Lynn assigned. “Contact the DMV and screen all vehicles that match the description, focusing on the blue and white badge.”

“And there’s the internet cafe’s surveillance footage,” Sarah reminded her.

“I’ve already contacted the local police department, and they will retrieve the surveillance footage from ‘Digital Space Internet Cafe’,” Lynn said. “If they find anything, they will notify us immediately.”

At 7:00 AM sharp, Lynn and Sarah drove to the town of Hudson. According to the factory's personnel records, Paul Jenkins lived in a small townhouse in a middle-class neighborhood. Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at their destination.

This is a quiet neighborhood, with houses built in the 1980s that are well-maintained. Paul's house is located in the middle of the street, with a small lawn in the front yard and a ten-year-old Honda Accord parked in the driveway.

“It looks like he’s home,” Sarah said, looking out the lit window.

“We’ll just knock on the door,” Lynn said, “to catch them off guard.”

The two walked to the front door. Lynn rang the doorbell and then knocked. A few seconds later, footsteps came from inside.

The door opened a crack, and a middle-aged man wearing glasses peeked out. He looked to be around fifty years old, with thinning hair, wearing a bathrobe, and a confused and wary expression on his face.

“Paul Jenkins?” Lynn flashed his badge. “I’m FBI Agent Lynn Hall, and this is Agent Sarah Wilson. We need to speak with you.”

Paul's face turned deathly pale. "FBI? I...I didn't do anything illegal."

“Then there won’t be a problem,” Lynn said, his tone calm but authoritative. “We just want to know a few things about Hudson Steel. May we go in?”

Paul hesitated, his eyes darting between Lynn and Sarah, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. Lynn could see the panic in him, a classic sign of guilt.

“Mr. Jenkins, we can talk here, or we can go to the precinct,” Sarah added, “but I believe you would prefer to stay at home, without disturbing the neighbors.”

The threat worked. Paul glanced across the street—a neighbor walking his dog was watching curiously—and then reluctantly opened the door.

“Come in,” he said softly.

The living room was tidy, but it was clear the owner hadn't been having an easy time lately. Bills and documents were piled on the coffee table, and a few pieces of clothing lay scattered on the sofa. Most striking were the several cardboard boxes in the corner, filled with office supplies and personal belongings.

"Packing?" Lynn asked, pointing to the boxes.

“The factory closed, I lost my job,” Paul said mechanically. “I’m packing up.” (End of Chapter)