America? No, it's the warp!

"Sir! Did you call the police?"

Stephen pretended not to know Logan, using the scripted approach.

"I called the police, officer. There are seven black men stealing from this mansion. They've been fighting amongst themselves for some reason and they're all passed out on the floor."

Logan stood at the entrance of the villa, without sunglasses or a handbag.

"Okay, sir, we'll take all these black guys to the police station. Thank you for reporting it."

Stephen waved his hand:

"Let's go, colleagues, arrest all the criminals who threaten the safety of the citizens!"

A dozen police officers, brandishing pistols, stormed into the villa one by one, handcuffed the unconscious black men, and then stuffed them into police cars.

This is the reason Logan prepared it for Stephen: an urgent case doesn't require a search warrant, but it's necessary to confirm that the raid is meaningful and that he dealt with these blacks, reducing the difficulty of the raid.

Logan walked into the villa and returned to the office. He had become familiar with almost all the police officers involved in the operation. Everyone knew that reporting a crime was just a procedure, so naturally no one really treated him as an ordinary person who had filed a report.

The two black men in the office had already been moved out, and Stephen was staring at the safe, looking worried.

"Excuse me, let me drive."

With a suspicious look in his eyes, Stephen made way for Roger, who bent down, put on gloves, and pressed his ear to the safe door, pretending to unlock it by sound.

"Oh! You can do this too!"

Stephen's surprise was palpable.

"It's just a low-quality little passage, not worth mentioning."

Logan waved his hand, unwilling to discuss the matter further.

After all, if Stephen really asked for details, he couldn't make it up.

"You've really saved us a lot of trouble. I was prepared for a gunfight here."

The young deputy sergeant spoke casually, though he was actually extremely nervous before he arrived.

Without any conflict, every police officer on duty felt relieved.

But then he changed the subject,

"These black guys all have guns on their waists. Next time, it's better not to deal with them alone. What if they shoot you?"

You are the benefactor who brings me credit, so I can't afford any problems.

The words contained both self-interest and genuine emotion.

Logan patted him on the shoulder:

"Don't worry, I know my own limitations. These black guys are all focused on moving things and don't have time to spare, otherwise I wouldn't have taken the risk."

Besides, I don't want to die; I haven't even enjoyed the good life yet.

Logan walked to the desk, opened the drawer, took out the stack of photos inside, then walked to the bookshelf and pulled out the few hidden in the art book.

"These photos, along with the notebook in the safe, are strong evidence. You police officers should know better than I do what happens next, right?"

"Of course, of course."

Stephen also put on gloves, as the evidence couldn't have other people's fingerprints on it, otherwise it would interfere with the testing process.

He glanced through the account books and the photos in the album, his expression gradually turning into extreme anger:

"That damn nigger, these crimes are enough to put him in jail for the rest of his life!"

He raised his head, his eyes burning.

"Brother, thank you for discovering this evidence. On behalf of these girls, I express my deepest gratitude to you. Although you are not a police officer, you are more noble than many American police officers."

"It's all I should do."

Logan had countless reasons to do this: to bring down Terren, to crush the Crippled Gang, to win the mayor's favor, and to gain more merit in this mission.

Of course, he had to do this for the sake of the emperor.

The operation went incredibly smoothly. The police arrested all the black men in the villa and took them to the station. The others who arrived later used the pretext of checking the "stolen property" to ransack the villa from top to bottom.

On the other side, at the Blood Gang's stronghold, the central tavern, there weren't many customers because it was afternoon.

On the first floor, several black men were divided into two groups, one with red headscarves and the other with blue headscarves.

The Blood Gang and the Crippled Gang stood facing each other in silence, seemingly waiting for some kind of instruction.

Upstairs, Eddie took a box of cigars from a drawer, lit one for himself, and then invited the person opposite him to smoke one.

"Come on, try one, and see whose is better, yours or yours?"

Tren, sitting on the opposite single sofa, looked ashen-faced and was in a bad mood.

One by one, the underlings were arrested, none of the men sent to ambush the man returned, and the police even wanted to search his house. The police chief was utterly useless.

It all stemmed from a leader's sudden whim, a provocation against the Blood Gang.

Teren regretted it. If he hadn't tacitly approved the robbery of the jade store, perhaps none of this mess would have happened, and he wouldn't have had to go deep into someone else's territory to negotiate just because the Blood Gang leader made a phone call.

He took the cigar, cut off the end, lit it, and took a puff.

"not bad."

The smoke Eddie exhaled smelled of smugness; the person opposite him had never been so humble.

It all started with that robbery. He got involved with the police, and the police seemed intent on dismantling the gang. Although he didn't know why Terren's connections with the police had suddenly stopped working, he was determined not to let this opportunity slip by.

He wouldn't place all his hopes on Logan, after all, this homeless man was just a vagrant who only knew how to use violence and wouldn't understand that some things could be obtained without fists.

"Teren, my friend, it's been a long time since we've gotten together like this, hasn't it?"

Eddie lied without batting an eye; in Tren's memory, they had never gathered like this before.

However, hypocrites hate being exposed, so Teren could only suppress his disgust:

"Ah...it's been a long time..."

"Anyway, the reason I called you here today is to discuss the fact that the police have been keeping a close eye on you lately."

Eddie's hypocrisy is a kind of obedience test; those who conform to hypocrisy must lack confidence.

For example, you can tell from the way Teren, who is in front of you, is trying to make peace that he is exhaling smoke in a disorderly manner.

"That robbery was definitely not something I ordered."

Terren's explanation was meaningless, and Eddie raised his hand to signal him to stop:

"That's not important, Teren. You know, what we need to talk about now is how to clean up this mess."

"Alright, I won't beat around the bush. What should I do to stop that man from keeping grabbing my underlings and to stop the police from watching me?"

Teren believed that Eddie had instructed him to do both things.

Eddie thought so too.

"It's simple, just give up the entire territory of Pioneer Square and Bell Town."

Teren jumped up:

"Then our territory is only West Seattle left!"

"If you don't agree, then all your territory will become ours, and you yourself will go to jail. You know the police can get evidence."

Teren remained silent for a dozen seconds, then slowly sat back down on the sofa and reluctantly agreed:

"Fine, I'll have my men withdraw. You'd better keep your promise, or I'll have no choice but to fight to the death."

Eddie extended his right hand, as if making a deal:

"Don't worry, I'm not interested in West Seattle."

Teren stiffly extended his right hand, completing this costly transaction.