I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 122 The Second Fire! (6K Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets and Subscriptions)

"Giselle's investigation has been going on for a week. The last group to be investigated is Daniel and the Katrina Clinic."

The medical examiner estimated the time of the fall into the river to be between 16 PM and 21 PM yesterday. Gisele had just visited Katrina's clinic and then fell into the river. Brody turned to the last page of Gisele's investigation report: "However, I don't think it could have been Daniel. A resident, killing her silently an hour or two after the investigators finished their investigation? That's something only the FBI or CIA could do; a mere resident couldn't possibly do it. So, I think she was discovered a few days earlier while investigating others and then made the arrangements."

This analysis is very reasonable.

Everyone in the office nodded in agreement.

Corbyn did not refute this.

In front of him lay Daniel's background check report, from his elementary school report card to his college loan records, to the body types of his several girlfriends, clearly showing his BBW preference.

It's safe to say that Daniel's entire family history has been exposed, making it impossible for him to have any hidden information.

He was an outgoing and good student, but not exceptionally so.

The highlight of my life was entering Christina Shepard's laboratory.

The only slightly unexpected thing is that this kid seems to have suddenly had a breakthrough recently, his surgical skills have improved by leaps and bounds, and then he went to work as a private surgeon at Katrina's clinic.

This behavior is definitely against the rules; no doctor in a public hospital is allowed to solicit private work at a private hospital.

But no one in this office cares about such trivial matters.

Because most doctors do this.

Corbyn tapped his fingers three more times on the table and said coldly, "No need for analysis. A full-scale crackdown is needed. Arrest those bastards, and we'll naturally know who did it. I want him to rot in jail!"

Queens Hospital.

Spencer arrived at the office in a good mood, but not seeing Daniel, he frowned and asked, "Where's Daniel? Wasn't he on duty last night? Where did he go?"

One resident complained, "I don't know. A man came looking for Daniel last night, and then he never came back. His phone is always busy; nobody can reach him."

Last night was incredibly busy; if it weren't for the help of other doctors, things would definitely have gotten into trouble.

But Daniel just disappeared without a trace last night.

I have no idea where that jerk went having fun, he didn't even take me with him!

Not brotherly enough!

The resident doctor was furious when he thought about the patients he had treated like they were in a battle last night.

Could it be...? Spencer felt a surge of joy.

They've been taken over by OMIG!

He exchanged a glance with Wesley.

When two men exchange this kind of look, it usually has only two meanings: dividing money, or celebrating someone else's funeral.

Wesley scoffed, "When he gets back, have him come find me. He's vanished during work hours, what's going on?!"

"OK." The resident doctor was also confused. "I'll call Daniel again."

Spencer and Wesley walked back to the office.

Wesley closed the door, and the two exchanged a glance.

Spencer laughed first, a laugh that had been suppressed for a long time and was finally triumphant, which came out of his nose.

Wesley smiled too, but more restrainedly, only the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"He's finished. He was probably secretly questioned or secretly taken into custody."

"Even if they aren't prosecuted, they won't be able to keep their license."

"Katarina's clinic is probably going to be summoned, and it'll have to close down right after it opened."

Spencer leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

During this period, Daniel has been going to Katrina's clinic whenever he has free time, and it is said that he even bought a Porsche a few days ago!

snort!

A petty person becomes arrogant and rampant when he gains power!

Things are different now. Daniel is finished, and that private clinic is finished too. I'm still the attending physician, and Wesley is still the chief physician.

Everything returned to normal, and life was as beautiful as ever.

Wesley comfortably rested his feet on the edge of the desk, the soles of his shoes facing Daniel's work schedule, which was still stuck to the wall and hadn't been torn down yet.

Just then, a commotion broke out outside, and someone shouted in the corridor, "Why are there so many cars at the entrance?"

"What's all the noise about!" Wesley said angrily, walking to the window and looking down.

More than a dozen cars arrived at the front and back entrances of Queens Hospital at the same time. Their uniform black bodies lined up neatly in front of the gray building, like a row of silent tombstones.

"It's an OMG car!" Spencer exclaimed excitedly.

Wesley paused for a moment, then said, "But why are so many here? Is it really necessary for someone as insignificant as Daniel?"

Then, more cars arrived.

FBI, IRS, state attorney general's office...

The entire Queens Hospital was completely blocked off.

Every car kept its engine running, humming softly in place, like a pack of hunting dogs waiting for a command.

All exits were blocked, and no one was allowed to enter or leave.

The simultaneous appearance of FBI, IRS, and state attorneys general usually has only one explanation: they want to ensure that the person being investigated is too weak to even call a lawyer.

"What? The FBI too!" Spencer felt a strong sense of unease.

As soon as he finished speaking, the computer's network was cut off, and the mobile phone's network was also cut off.

"WTF!" Wesley's smile was still on his face, but the curve of his lips hadn't changed, and his eyes were no longer smiling.

The difference between a smile and fear was only a few seconds.

The two stood side by side, watching the agents in bulletproof vests file out of their cars downstairs.

The black uniforms formed a silent defensive line in front of the hospital's gray building.

This isn't just targeting Daniel, it's targeting everyone!

Spencer's hand slid down from the windowsill, leaving a sweaty trail on the glass with his fingertips, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"This doesn't make sense..." He trembled violently. "We just reported Daniel! Why are so many people here!"

The two men considered a terrifying possibility: "Could our report have led them to investigate the entire hospital..."

1

Otherwise, it's impossible to explain why such a large-scale operation was organized.

But isn't this happening too fast? I just reported it, and less than three days later, the FBI, IRS, and the state attorney general's office are already blocking my door.

How could the federal government be so efficient!

"It's all over!" Spencer was ashen-faced and sweating profusely.

The reason he dared to report it was that the hospital's resale of equipment was an open secret, and nobody cared about it.

But now...

"Fuck! What a brilliant idea!" Wesley roared, immediately unlocking the computer and starting to format it, cursing under his breath, "F*** you! Spencer! If I'm finished, you're not getting away with it!"

Spencer realized what was happening and, forgetting his argument with Wesley, hurriedly ran to his office.

He rushed into the office, opened the safe without saying a word, and took out all the documents inside.

Contracts, photos, invoices...

Some things that seem insignificant in ordinary times can become incredibly heavy once they're brought to the forefront—the kind of heaviness that could send someone to a federal prison for 20 years.

As a plastic surgeon and an upper-middle-class individual, Spencer earned an annual income of $35 and lived a comfortable life. Suddenly, he was thrown into prison.

Do not!

no way!

He will try every means to escape sanctions, although the chances are slim.

But in an emergency, his adrenaline surged and his heart pounded, leaving him no time to think about what to do.

He lit the lighter, the flame licking the edge of the paper, the orange glow dancing in the dim office.

As if it were a signal, smoke began to drift out of many offices.

Brody, the head of the medical fraud unit, stood downstairs, coldly watching the scene: "Hmph. A desperate struggle. Burning the evidence now will only make their charges worse and get them another five or six years in prison."

The FBI project manager ordered, "Move out immediately."

A large number of agents stormed into the hospital building: "Listen up, everyone! Keep your hands away from the computers! Don't make phone calls! Don't send messages!"

"Squat down! Everyone squat down!"

Click! The power to the entire building was cut off, and all the computers shut down on the spot, becoming completely unusable.

"What happened?"

"What happened?"

When nurses, doctors, and administrative staff see this situation, they immediately unload their computers, offer no resistance, and let the other party handle it.

Most people neither benefited from it nor participated in the resale.

They had heard that the hospital's higher-ups were selling equipment, but they were too low-ranking to have any access to it.

Now that the investigating authorities have suddenly rushed upstairs, these people are not afraid, but excited.

They couldn't wait to see those usually arrogant and domineering high-ranking officials suffer misfortune, and they had a rather gloating feeling about it.

Such a large-scale event was bound to cause trouble for someone, and all the pent-up resentment from before erupted.

One nurse even jumped out on the spot: "I can testify! I saw them take away the newly purchased equipment!"

"OK! Come over and register!" The agents already had someone specifically prepared to handle this: "Tell me everything you know!"

One person raised their hand, which inspired a second and a third.

Like a domino effect, except these dominoes don't fall to the ground, but instead smash those in power into the abyss.

Many people began reporting to the authorities, naming and shaming individuals, and making records.

Spencer was burning documents when the FBI stormed in, pinned him to the ground, extinguished the flames, and rescued many documents.

"Why did you burn the data?" The FBI agent grinned and lifted him off the ground.

"I, I..." Spencer argued, "I just accidentally lit it while smoking."

Spencer didn't even have a cigarette in his mouth.

"Hmph! Go tell that nonsense to the judge!"

Someone rushed in and took all the photos of the scene to preserve the evidence. Spencer covered his face in horror.

"No! Don't film me!"

Soon, a voice came through the FBI supervisor's walkie-talkie: "The hospital director, deputy director, warehouse manager, chief physician, and all the other key suspects have been apprehended without exception!"

Brody laughed.

"We are heading to the archives and server room to seal all the servers."

Dean Jacob stood in his office with several staff members, staring in shock at the convoy outside.

The internet was cut off, phone calls couldn't be made, and all external communications were disrupted.

"Has this place been attacked by terrorists?!" Jacob shouted in terror. "Can anyone tell me what happened?!"

With multiple departments working together to enforce the law, he probably already guessed the reason, but he was just unwilling to admit it.

The employees exchanged glances and silently moved a step away from him.

The Queens Hospital's computer room occupies an entire floor in a low building next to the woods.

Richard had already opened the windows of the server room beforehand.

In the chaos, no one noticed that an owl flew into the machine room carrying a bag of gasoline and threw the plastic bag onto the machine.

Whoosh!

The plastic bag broke, and gasoline spilled onto the server.

Then the owl flew out again, disappeared into the bushes, retrieved a bag of gasoline, flew back, and sprinkled it on the ground.

After several attempts, it finally finished transporting all the gasoline, and its entire body was covered in gasoline.

It even managed to pull out a lighter and fly into the server room.

A rat, appearing out of nowhere, decisively gnawed through the signal cable of the fire-fighting equipment in the computer room.

The owl then tried to light a lighter in the server room!

Anyone who saw this would be stunned.

Click!

Click!

After several repetitions, flames erupted, and the owl instantly ignited, transforming into a firebird.

The owl puppet was completely unfazed by the heat, flying throughout the entire server room, trailing flames behind it.

Flames roared into the sky!

"Hands up, everyone!" FBI agents stormed into the control room, guns drawn.

One person decisively unplugged all the power supplies in the server room to prevent anyone from deleting the data.

All screens went completely black instantly.

All the staff immediately raised their hands in surrender; they were just ordinary office workers, and no one would risk their lives.

The detective picked up the walkie-talkie with satisfaction and reported, "The control room is under control!"

Access cards for data center administrators were also collected to prevent anyone from entering the data center and causing damage.

With the situation stabilized, the agents relaxed.

Just then, a pungent cloud of smoke rushed in, seemingly carrying a hint of gasoline.

"What happened? Where is the fire?"

"Upstairs, right? Those deans are burning evidence."

"Huh? Something's not right, there's a smell of gasoline!"

A panicked voice shouted over the walkie-talkie, "The server room! The server room is on fire!"

"WTF! Put out the fire!" An agent rushed to the door of the server room and grabbed the doorknob.

"Ah!" he screamed as blisters formed on his palms.

"Fuck! It's too hot! There's a fire inside, we can't open the door!"

"Arson!"

"Fuck! Who did this?!"

"Fire! Fire!"

The acrid smell and black smoke seeped out from under the door of the server room, and everyone knew it was beyond saving.

"Where are the fire safety systems? FXXK! Just like the NYPD! The fire safety systems aren't working!"

Katrina Clinic.

Catherine is checking the surgery schedule for this week at the front desk.

Three men in dark suits and a woman carrying a briefcase pushed open the door and walked in at a very fast pace.

Catherine looked up, her face now displaying a warm and professional shopkeeper's smile: "Hello, how can I help you?"

The female leader immediately flashed her badge, her tone implying, "You know why I'm here: OMIG is conducting random checks. No prior notice is needed. Please cooperate!"

After she finished speaking, her gaze went over Catherine's shoulder and scanned the entire clinic's internal equipment.

The three men immediately bypassed Catherine and began working, giving her no chance to stop them.

"They've come!" Catherine thought to herself, but her face betrayed a perfectly timed expression of surprise: "You, what are you doing here?"

"Maurice, the leader of the OMIG medical fraud team." Maurice stared intently at Catherine with a scrutinizing expression, trying to detect any fear or unease.

Unfortunately, after being modified by Richard, Catherine's level of composure far exceeded what ordinary people could imagine.

Catherine perfectly portrayed the surprised proprietress: "Medical fraud? I'm just a private clinic, what does that have to do with medical fraud?"

Morris scoffed. "Hey, don't play dumb. Catherine Dixon, I know your name. You're the mother of that famous cheerleader, Saint. I hope your actions don't bring shame upon Saint."

As she spoke, she quickly made the sign of the cross on her chest.

Two fingers, not the three or five fingers traditionally used in Catholicism.

He merely made a casual gesture to draw the cross, which appeared very frivolous.

Catherine understood.

Morris was a Protestant.

"Damn heretics!" Catherine roared, faithfully playing the role of the Catholic saintly mother.

Morris didn't take it seriously.

She was overjoyed to have the opportunity to expose the hypocritical saintly mother's true colors.

Religious wars have always been about who is closer to God.

If someone is closer than you, the best way to win is naturally to kill that bunch of bastards who are closer.

Morris pointed triumphantly at Catherine, as if to say, "I'm going to catch you today."

Catherine's expression turned cold: "So what exactly are you investigating?"

"Do you know what I'm doing? This equipment was bought from a Queens hospital; is it just normal end-of-life equipment?"

"Of course!" Catherine said confidently.

Morris sneered, "Heh. I hope you can stay this calm in a moment."

The two women fell silent.

The three men have already taken their respective posts.

One young person was in charge of taking photos, one middle-aged person was in charge of verifying the equipment models, and another person was in charge of monitoring the entire scene to ensure that no one was hiding anything.

Claire and the receptionist were both stunned, not knowing what had happened, and were very worried that their boss would be arrested and they would lose their lucrative jobs.

The receptionist had no idea where the equipment came from; it was already there when she arrived.

Claire... took a closer look at the liposuction machine and immediately noticed something different: there was a scratch on the machine yesterday.

It's gone now.

The equipment has been switched!

"That's great..." Claire breathed a sigh of relief, glanced at Catherine, and said nothing.

As long as I can keep the clinic and my own income, that's enough.

Soon, all the equipment information was registered and sent to Morris.

Morris glanced at it, and his face immediately darkened.

The serial numbers of all the devices had been ground off, but the production dates were still stamped on them, indicating that they were all old products, at least 5 years old, or even more than 7 years old.

They really are all scrapped equipment!

Morris was very disappointed, as he had thought he could catch them in the act of reselling new equipment from public hospitals.

Morris, unconvinced, examined all the equipment before finally glaring at Catherine and threatening, "Why did you erase the medical device serial numbers? That's a felony!"

"What! The serial number has been worn away!" Catherine was shocked, as if she was hearing this for the first time.

Catherine had long since honed her facial expression control by studying her two ex-husbands.

She had long understood this principle: a woman who can perfectly control her facial expressions is more dangerous than a man wielding a weapon.

Damn it! Morris gritted his teeth.

Morris knew he couldn't find any fault with Catherine.

As long as Catherine denies knowing anything, the worst that can happen is a fine or bail.

These devices will certainly be confiscated, resulting in a loss of $40 to $50, but that's about it.

The most crucial evidence was not caught!

In fact, if Catherine had hired a good lawyer and insisted that she didn't understand the technology, only recognized the equipment model, and that the equipment was usable after a professional evaluation, she might have been spared from confiscation.

Morris took a deep breath: "I investigated your equipment purchase contract; the amount is too low. How do you explain that?"

Catherine said aggrievedly, "I'm just a small private clinic. Of course, I'll buy whichever equipment is the cheapest, as long as it still works. You must have already investigated my situation. The first branch of Katarina Clinic used to have an annual income of only $10. I started this clinic entirely with loans, and I'm under a lot of financial pressure."

"I know about that loan." Morris had obviously investigated it, and he gritted his teeth, consumed by jealousy.

That loan, worth a staggering $200 million, had an incredibly low interest rate and a repayment period of up to 50 years!

50 years!

Fifty years later, Catherine's bones will be completely rotten!

Given that the lender is Mellon Bank, which has close ties with the Catholic Church, it goes without saying that this is definitely another instance of support from the Catholic Church.

It is perfectly reasonable for the church to provide the saint's mother with a loan that she would never have to repay.

How can this be called corruption? This is called faith!

The interest on faith is never calculated in US dollars.

"So, with my budget, I only care about the price; I don't care where the equipment comes from," Catherine said.

Morris was extremely disappointed: "Using a device without a serial number is a crime!"

It's definitely a crime.

For non-violent felonies of level 3 or 4, release without bail is permitted, and no bail is required.

Catherine had already investigated the situation thoroughly before doing these things; it was nothing more than a fine of tens of thousands of dollars.

"According to the law, your equipment must be sealed up immediately and scrapped."

"OK, no problem." Catherine was very cooperative.

Although losing a batch of equipment was painful, she had fulfilled her master's request: to save the clinic and Daniel's license.

Morris wanted to ask something else.

Catherine firmly refused: "You can discuss the rest with my lawyer."

The fire was raging.

Brody's face was extremely pale.

Two fires have occurred at government facilities in New York City, one at the NYPD and the other at a public hospital.

All fire-fighting equipment is out of service!

This is a direct slap in the face to the regulatory authorities.

Richard was standing in the middle of a group of detained patients, exclaiming in surprise along with everyone else.

Dean Jacob was dragged out with disheveled hair, sandwiched between two burly detectives.

The once arrogant dean is now dejected, his face ashen, as if he has witnessed the end of the world.

Richard stood among a group of patients who were being detained, and a thought struck him.

The magical hand reached out silently.

As Jacob walked, he suddenly raised and lowered his head.

He cried out, trying to cover his heart, but his hands were handcuffed behind his back and he couldn't move.

"Behave yourself!" the detective said irritably.

"MAN!"

At this moment, Jacob's face changed from sallow to ashen.

In just a few seconds, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, his forehead hitting the concrete with a dull thud.

"Fuck! What's going on?" The agent escorting him was startled and quickly squatted down to press on his carotid artery, but he couldn't feel a pulse.

The scene was chaotic. Emergency room doctors rushed over and performed CPR for a few minutes, but eventually shook their heads in resignation.

"Acute myocardial infarction, approximately left main coronary artery occlusion, large anterior wall infarction, no hope." The emergency doctor stood up: "It could be from fright, or it could be from pre-existing heart disease, or it could be from certain medications... um."

He implied that Jacob committed suicide out of guilt.

Brody and the FBI director both had dark expressions.

In this death, the least important thing is the truth.

When a hospital director dies of a heart attack in front of the FBI, no one asks "why he died," no one believes Jacob died of his own accord, everyone just says the FBI used excessive force or is hiding some conspiracy.

"FXXK!"

"This is a huge problem!"

Richard stood in the crowd, joining in the gasps of surprise, as if the matter had nothing to do with him.

Now, the blame has been firmly placed on the dean's head.

Dali watched cautiously as the small boat slowly approached the shore in the distance: "Back? Does it have a tail?"

"No! Everything went very smoothly." Several men unloaded the cargo containers from the ship and drove them back to the warehouse.

Upon opening the box, a mouse suddenly darted out.

This startled everyone.

The mouse, in a panic, scurried into a corner and disappeared.

"Damn, this place is infested with rats!"

Dali cursed.