I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 141 Before Taking Action (10K-word long chapter, please vote and subscribe)

Richard entered the room.

Emily's room was elegant and cozy, more like the residence of an artsy young woman than the room of an NYPD officer.

Debbie pouted and said in a low voice, "You've never sent me flowers."

Richard glanced at her: "This is Helen, my neighbor at the YC apartment building, and also a colleague at OCME."

"This is Emily, Helen's sister, who works for the NYPD."

"Debbie, you should all know her."

He gave a brief introduction.

Emily was very enthusiastic: "Your Highness! I'm so happy to have you here."

Debbie was a little embarrassed: "Don't be like that, just call me Debbie."

All four were young people, and although Debbie's identity was somewhat special, they quickly became familiar with each other.

Debbie asked curiously, "Emily, why did you invite Richard to dinner?"

"I sprained my ankle. Richard treated my ankle last time, and I've been wanting to thank him."

"Huh? You can treat feet? Aren't you a forensic doctor?" Debbie looked at Richard suspiciously.

Upon hearing the word "forensic pathologist," Emily got goosebumps all over.

Helen stole a glance at Richard, feeling extremely embarrassed.

Every time she saw Richard, she couldn't help but think of OF and the little toy under her pillow, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment!

Debbie cursed inwardly, "That bitch, she really knows how to seduce men!"

She suddenly realized that the two cousins ​​looked somewhat alike.

Ah! What kind of play is Richard up to now?

He's such a jerk!

If looks could kill, the Helen sisters would have been killed seventeen or eighteen times over.

Richard casually asked, "How is it now?"

Emily was almost fully recovered, but for some reason, she said, "I still feel a little uncomfortable. Could you take another look?"

"Does it still hurt?" Richard asked, puzzled.

It should hurt now, since all the cells were repaired last time.

Emily thought for a moment: "It doesn't hurt, but something feels off. I can't quite put my finger on it. But sprained ankles usually take a long time to fully recover, so it should be fine."

Richard became even more interested. Could it be that cells made from fresh flesh and blood are different from normal human cells?

"let me see."

"Huh?" Emily didn't resist much: "Okay, thank you."

Debbie started teething.

Richard ignored Debbie and took out a pair of rubber gloves from his pocket and put them on.

Debbie's eyes immediately curved into a smile.

Look, Richard is disgusted with your feet.

Emily was speechless: "Why do you always wear rubber gloves?"

Because he could kill someone at any moment. Richard said solemnly, "I am a professional forensic pathologist."

"Could you please not mention that word?" Emily sighed.

"This way." Richard sat on the sofa and patted it.

"Okay." Emily sat down on the sofa, raised her right leg, and placed it on the edge of the sofa.

She wore light-colored trousers today, with the cuffs rolled up above her calves, revealing her slender, snow-white ankles.

Emily took off her right sock, her toes curling slightly in embarrassment.

Richard noticed that she had a thin silver anklet on her ankle, which she hadn't had before.

Her instep had a smooth line, and her fair toes were painted with bright red nail polish, which was quite eye-catching.

This is something that didn't exist before.

Helen looked at her cousin with a puzzled expression.

She didn't like wearing nail polish before.

However, she didn't think much of it.

Debbie was furious.

Both sisters are bitches!

I was still watching from the side when a group of women pounced on me.

I got into Princeton and followed him!

Richard squatted down, holding Emily's small feet in one hand and her ankle in the other, and gently moved them.

"Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt, it's just a feeling I can't quite describe. It should be normal, right?"

This is indeed a very normal situation for ordinary people when treating a sprained ankle.

But I'm directly restoring cells, so why am I still experiencing abnormal sensations?

This is not reasonable.

Richard moved his thumb down from the ankle bone, pressing several key points in sequence.

On the surface, it was an examination of bones and tendons, but in reality, it was using the ability to reconstruct flesh and blood to view a three-dimensional image of the inside of her ankle.

In his field of vision, the three-dimensional structure inside Emily's ankle was fully revealed: fascia, tendons, nerves,

The direction of each layer of blood vessels unfolded in his perception.

Going deeper, we reach the cellular level.

After observing for a while, he finally understood where the problem lay.

He could clearly see that several tiny nerve endings were slightly misaligned when they reconnected after healing.

He did repair the damaged cells last time, but the newly grown nerve fibers grew a short section in the wrong direction, causing her to still feel an unusual pulling sensation at certain angles.

Furthermore, slight differences in the location of proprioceptive cells can lead to different sensations during neural feedback, resulting in slight discrepancies in somatosensory perception.

Unless you can perfectly replicate the distribution of all the cells before, you will feel a foreign body sensation.

piece of cake.

"No problem." Richard withdrew his hand, took off his gloves, pinched two fingers together, and threw them into the trash can. "Your nerves might feel a little misaligned during the healing period, but your body will readjust itself in a few weeks. You'll get used to it."

He washed his hands with hand sanitizer.

"Oh. Thank you so much." Emily withdrew her foot, lowered her head to put on her socks, and thought to herself: Actually, I washed them beforehand.

Also, the socks were brand new, and this was the first time I'd worn them.

Helen glanced at Emily, then at Richard, and felt that her cousin was acting differently today; something seemed off.

Lunch has officially begun.

Emily prepared four dishes: a roast chicken, a cream of mushroom soup, a vegetable salad, and a sirloin steak.

For people from East Asia, ordering so many dishes is a bit too little for four people.

The roast chicken was roasted to a golden brown and crispy perfection, and the mushroom soup was sprinkled with a layer of ground black pepper.

Generally speaking, these kinds of family dinners hosted by young people are quite casual. The fact that the hostess prepared these dishes shows that she put a lot of thought into it, as there wasn't a single pre-made dish.

Purely handmade, very rare.

In New York, this is more serious than a marriage proposal.

Richard took a bite of chicken and looked up at Emily in surprise: "Not bad."

This girl is quite nice; whoever marries her in the future will be a good wife and mother.

Emily smiled happily: "I usually enjoy cooking."

The four people sat around a round table to eat. They were all young people and didn't have many formalities.

Emily naturally sat in the main seat, Richard sat opposite her, and Debbie and Helen sat on either side.

The four of them ate and chatted, and the atmosphere gradually became strange.

Emily refilled Richard's soup bowl: "Do you rarely eat this kind of home-cooked food?"

"Sometimes I eat at Debbie's, sometimes I live alone, so I just grab whatever I can find."

"You can come often from now on," she said casually, as if she were an old friend.

But when she said "you can come often," she didn't look at Debbie or Helen; she just looked at the spoon in her hand.

Debbie put down her fork and said somewhat unfriendly, "Your family is really hospitable."

"Of course, Your Highness is welcome to come often," Emily replied with a smile.

Helen glanced at Emily, then at Debbie, her expression complex.

Debbie pouted, "No need, Richard likes Chinese food, my mom can cook."

Emily exclaimed in surprise, "Oh, I see! Then I'll learn a few Chinese dishes and cook Chinese food next time. Okay, Richard?"

Debbie stared at Richard.

Richard ignored her completely and said indifferently, "Fine."

Debbie's pout is so wide you could hang a bottle on it.

Helen joins the fray: "I've never had my sister's Chinese food before..."

'

The three women are scheming against each other, exchanging veiled meanings in their words.

Richard could clearly see three flames of desire above the heads of the three men: love, jealousy, and anger.

When did Emily fall for him?

Richard was very strange.

Next, the friction will increase:

Debbie took the last piece of chicken from Richard's bowl.

Emily silently moved the freshly roasted chicken in front of him.

Helen poured water for Richard.

The cutlery crisscrossed on the table, every movement like a battle.

While this level of emotional friction wasn't out of control, it made Richard somewhat impatient.

Desire-driven manipulation!

In an instant, the three women's jealousy and anger were suppressed to the lowest level.

Debbie suddenly felt that there wasn't really anything to be angry about, since Richard was still living in her house anyway.

Helen's expression relaxed a little.

One is a saint, so marriage is impossible.

One is her older cousin, who would never compete with her.

Richard did accept my keychain after all.

What was I thinking just now?

Emily stared at the dining table: When did I become so concerned about Richard?

The three women's emotions returned to normal from the brink of spiraling out of control.

Emily began to consider Debbie's future: "Debbie, isn't the canonization case a bit troublesome?"

After all, her family are devout Catholics.

She shook her head, looked back at Debbie, and began to talk about the recent online discussions she had seen about the saint: "By the way, Debbie, have you been going to church lately?"

Debbie thought for a moment, then said with a troubled expression, "I don't know either, it's so annoying."

"What about the Super Bowl? I've seen a lot of people talking about you online."

Debbie's face looked terrible.

"I just want to dance."

Emily frowned slightly.

She also thought that the saint shouldn't dance that kind of dance in public; it wasn't very...dignified.

But God has no objection to this matter, so who does he think he is?

Emily wisely kept her mouth shut.

Helen asked curiously, "Are you really chosen by God?"

Debbie shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really want to be this saint, but why do miracles and accidents keep happening to me?"

Debbie also became a little suspicious.

She looked up at the sky. Could that old man really exist?

"Huh?" Helen and Emily looked at each other in bewilderment.

A woman regarded as a saint by the outside world says she "doesn't know".

If those believers kneeling in the church to pray heard this, they would probably be stunned for a long time.

We were about to venerate you as a saint, so why did Your Highness back down first?

Helen finally spoke: "Are you afraid?"

Debbie looked at Helen: "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid those people will mistake you for—"

"Treating me like a god?" Debbie asked honestly. "A little. But I'm more afraid of not being able to go out. You know, there are police and FBI agents all over my house right now. I was only able to get out today by sneaking out of the garage..."

'

Emily couldn't help but laugh: "That's really terrible..."

'

Helen said cautiously, "Your Highness is indeed different from the saint I imagined."

"I'm just a brainless cheerleader! Who knows why that guy chose me?"

As they chatted, a flame of devotion rose above the heads of both Emily and Helen.

Emily, in particular, saw her flames grow ever brighter.

A moment later, an unclaimed faith appeared above Emily's head.

Richard's mana was quickly replenished.

The meal took about an hour.

This is lunchtime. Emily has to go to work in the afternoon, and Helen has to go to school, so they don't have much time.

Although the three women had some initial friction, things eased up later, and they inexplicably got along quite well.

"How about we have dinner together again next week?"

"Okay. Give me some time to learn a couple of Chinese dishes."

See you next time.

Richard drove Debbie home.

After eating her fill, Debbie lay in the back seat like a lazy cat, clutching her stomach.

.

I'm stuffed.

"I'll take you back."

"I don't want to go home," Debbie whined in the back seat. "I want to keep playing! Didn't you see the looks those FBI agents and cops gave me? They looked at me like that every time I was in the yard. I felt like I was back in the Middle Ages!"

"Don't you enjoy performing on stage and being in the spotlight?"

"I want to be on stage and perform as the best cheerleader, not a..." Debbie's limited vocabulary prevented her from finding the right words, so she raised her voice, "I feel like I've been transported back to the Middle Ages!"

Just then, Richard's phone rang.

The screen displays "Christina".

He answered the phone: "Hello, Dr. Shepard."

This was their agreed-upon code; his use of the formal title "Dr. Shepard" implied that someone was nearby.

Christina understood and quickly adjusted her tone, but her annoyance was still palpable: "Richard, the Hart Island corpse hazard research project has been confirmed and rejected by the city council."

Richard's fingers paused on the steering wheel for a moment: "So, we can't maintain a base on the island?"

"Yes." Christina was very annoyed.

For many years, no one in New York has stopped her research, especially research that sounds perfectly legal.

Even if it's just a charade, I, Christina, am already giving you face by using this charade, and you still don't want it?

Christina said unhappily, "Richard, if necessary, I can use other connections. It will definitely get through."

No one can ignore an academic clique, especially when they have money but insist on doing something stubborn.

Almost no one could stop them.

"No need," Richard said. "I have other ideas."

He hung up the phone.

Debbie asked cautiously, "Is something wrong?"

"This is a bit of a hassle." Richard didn't explain further. "I'll take you home first."

Debbie, unusually, didn't protest and was quite obedient.

"So—are you sleeping at my place tonight?"

Richard thought about it and figured it was unlikely.

Tonight is the Ghost Shadow Gang's arms deal; I wonder what kind of trouble they'll cause.

Let's talk about it tomorrow.

The monitors have left, and Lyon and the Monroe family have perfectly taken over the blame, so they shouldn't have too much trouble.

Debbie nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

Although she was usually very easygoing, she could tell that Richard's expression was different from usual.

Richard drove Debbie to the garage and watched her slip into the house through a small door on the inside of the garage.

Richard went into the house pretending to take something, then drove back to No. 1200, Baytop Villa.

On the way, he received another message from Debbie: "You haven't sent me flowers yet."

How stingy. Richard smiled and put his phone down.

The car continued its journey through the night.

He picked up his phone and called Brian: "How's the situation now?"

Brian calmly replied, "It's a bit troublesome, but not a big problem. Everything depends on tonight. We've made all the arrangements."

Richard said calmly, "Killian is blocking the way. You have to deal with Killian. I'm getting a little annoyed."

Killian has temporarily blocked his legal means of landing on Hart Island.

Therefore, Brian must successfully sabotage Samuel.

If they can't get rid of Samuel, then the water police's radar will prevent Richard from illegally landing on the island.

Whether illegal or legal, Richard cannot go to the island, so his [Skeleton Nest] cannot be built.

This is something Richard absolutely cannot tolerate.

It has to be done tonight, no matter what!

Brian's heart pounded at Richard's words. He had never heard Richard speak so angrily before. He immediately replied, "Okay, I'll take care of it."

Brian's face was extremely grim after hanging up the phone.

Killian!

Richard stood by the private dock, looking at Lyon's yacht.

The grayish-purple smog drifted over from the neighboring Oak Ridge mansion again.

It drifted across his yard, over the neatly trimmed lawn, towards Evan's house.

Richard stood there without changing his expression.

.

The nuclear contamination that drifted in caused Adam's family to develop cancer.

Are the people at Oak Ridge Mansion alright?

That's not very realistic.

I guess that bastard Alger suppressed the news.

You can look it up.

However, he doesn't have the time or inclination to deal with this matter for the time being.

At this moment, the mink puppet crawled out of the water.

Richard patted its head, retrieved its memories, and Hart Island was temporarily back to normal.

The mink will return approximately every two hours to relay a message.

People from KOM have landed on the island and are making preparations to bury the bodies.

After a while, a fly landed on his finger.

They brought back information about Antonio.

As expected, the BG gang leader was hiding in that slaughterhouse, with only seven men left under his command, which should be his last remaining force.

Antonio remained silent most of the time, but Richard still managed to get a crucial conversation:

One of the underlings returned.

"Have you found Dali?"

"no."

"It's okay, we'll continue tomorrow."

"Boss, even if we find Dali, can we replace him?"

"Don't worry, nobody knows what Dali looks like. I'll put on his mask, and I'll be Dali! You put them on, and you'll be the Ghost Gang!"

What a clever trick of using a corpse to bring someone back to life, or substituting one thing for another.

Richard narrowed his eyes, and another fly took flight, heading in Antonio's direction.

Antonio is indeed a capable man. He has survived for so long under the pursuit of the NYPD and other gangs, and he has managed to maintain the loyalty of his men even when his life is in danger. No one has betrayed him, and some people are even willing to provide him with a safe place.

This guy's abilities are ridiculously powerful.

For most ordinary people, let alone leading people to risk their lives, it would be difficult to even get all the employees to attend a company annual meeting, let alone manage to do so.

Even in such adversity, Antonio's men were still willing to fight to the death for him. Antonio's personal charisma and organizational skills were extraordinary. If he were in a chaotic era, he would definitely have become a great hero.

Just then, Brian sent a message: "O'Connor has made his move."

Richard put his phone away, revived the mink once more, and then submerged it in the water to continue monitoring Hart Island.

Richard returned to his room to read, silently waiting for night to fall.

The OCME corpse transport boat is a small ferry that can carry one hearse.

A skinny, tall man from O'Connor went down the well to disguise himself, wearing a fake beard and altering the position of his eyebrows, to impersonate a hearse driver.

Valerie Pierce sat in the passenger seat, her face pale, her hand gripping the seatbelt tightly, her knuckles white, clearly very nervous.

"Don't be nervous," the tall, thin subordinate said softly. "What are you afraid of?"

Valerie forced a smile but did not answer.

I'm a double agent now, do you think I'm scared?

Of course, she dared not say anything.

Upon reaching the water police checkpoint, a uniformed water policeman strolled over lazily: "Hey, Valerie!"

Valerie forced a smile: "Hey, Tommy."

The water policeman casually placed his hands on the driver's side window: "You don't look too good."

"I have a fever and I'm not feeling well," Valerie replied dismissively.

"Oh, that's terrible. Take care of yourself." He chatted with Valerie for a bit, then looked at the driver: "Hey, bro, are you new here? I've never seen you before."

The tall, thin subordinate said with a fawning smile, "Hey, this is my first time here."

"There aren't many people willing to drive a hearse."

"Making money is unavoidable. Old Pete is sick today."

"Why are you all sick?" The water police officer scoffed.

"Should we investigate?" Valerie asked.

"No need. What's the point of investigating? They're all corpses," the water police said dismissively. No one was willing to open the OCME's hearse.

It smells bad, and it's also unlucky.

"Let's go quickly."

"OK."

"What time will you be back?"

"Same as before, about an hour."

97

"OK, I'll talk to the dock dispatcher."

He casually patted the carriage, considered the inspection done, and waved for the brakes to let it pass.

The tall, thin man drove the car steadily onto the special ferry for transporting corpses.

The ferry swayed gently towards Hart Island. It was very close; we arrived at the Hart Island pier in less than fifteen minutes.

After the ferry slowly docked, the hearse drove out in reverse.

Valerie walked along the well and drove the small ferry, which only had a few staff members.

The captain was leaning against the railing, munching on a candy; the crew members were smoking and scrolling through their phones; and the ugly men were all employees of the water police.

"Hey Guy, I've got some good stuff for you." Valerie handed two packs of cigarettes to the ugly man: "Thanks for your hard work."

"Good cigarettes!" The captain took a pack.

The packaging clearly displays a red scalloped logo, making it obvious that it's a high-quality product with added DAMA.

The crew members happily tore open their cigarette packs, giving one to the captain and one to Valerie before putting one in their mouths, lighting it with a lighter, leaning back in their chairs, and resting their feet on the dial.

Ugly people are already bored, and sitting here is a waste of time, so he simply started chatting with Valerie.

Valerie wasn't beautiful, but she was still a woman.

The tall, thin man drove the car to the temporary parking lot, where the workers from KOM Company had arrived.

He drove the car and unloaded all the bodies.

One of the workers asked, puzzled, "Why does it seem like there are fewer corpses today?"

The tall, thin man shrugged: "I don't know, I'm just the driver."

"Fk, isn't less better? The less, the faster!" Another worker was quite happy.

The four workers then busied themselves transporting all the bodies away to bury them.

KOM does not support idlers; everyone must work hard.

The tall, thin man looked around to make sure no one was watching before rhythmically knocking on the carriage.

Bang bang bang.

Bang bang bang.

bang bang.

A slight metallic scraping sound came from the innermost wall of the carriage.

Then it shook and was pushed away.

There was a space of about 1 meter inside, a cramped space that squeezed six people in.

It was O'Connor and Isabella who were there.

He was dressed in camouflage and fully armed when he quickly jumped off the train.

"Is nobody here?"

The tall, thin subordinate nodded: "He's digging a hole to bury the body, hurry up."

People from KOM are burying the bodies.

The ship's captain is chatting with Valerie.

This is a rare and opportune time.

OK!

""

Taking advantage of the precious gap, the six of them quickly ran to a corner of a low cliff not far away.

There are many bushes there, and no one usually goes to that place.

Six people dressed in camouflage were squatting inside, with a camouflage tarpaulin pulled up, and the outside was simply covered with dry branches and leaves, so that people could not be seen from a distance.

To facilitate communication, he also brought an encrypted radio and six walkie-talkies.

About ten minutes later, he heard the ferry's whistle.

Valerie's voice came through the radio: "The body transport ship has returned."

He waited anxiously for an hour before the ship of the KOM company sounded.

The people from KOM have finally left!

O'Connor finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He kissed the cross hanging on his chest and prayed softly, but he dared not relax and continued to wait.

We can't move around freely now, as we might be spotted by drones in the sky or ships in the distance.

Ren was confined to a small space.

Isabella, her excitement tempered by nervousness, looked at O'Connor and licked her lips: "This place is quite nice—"

Isabella reached down.

"Hey beggar! Stop right there!"

Don't be shy.

O'Connor snapped, "Isabella, what kind of time corridor is this? What are you trying to do?"

"Hmph!" O'Connor's reprimand annoyed Isabella, but she held back.

She also knew that this was a very important time.

How dare that beggar extend his own suspension period?

She has to give it her all!

They waited until nightfall before emerging from their hiding place.

"OK, no more questions." The six of them made their way to the grove.

From here, you can barely see the trading area at the dock. A man climbed up a tree and sat on a branch to monitor the situation.

He familiarized himself with the island's terrain and quickly found an ambush location.

Blade is at K0M's house, Ugly is in the woods, and Ugly is at the low cliff from before.

O'Connor kissed the cross again and whispered a prayer: "God, Our Lady, Saint Debbie, please help me punish evil."

Isabella, ignoring O'Connor's prayer, scoffed, "You believe that little girl?"

O'Connor's expression was serious: "Of course. She shattered the evil coffin; she is a true saint!"

Isabella pursed her lips.

She didn't argue; arguing with someone about religious beliefs is incredibly stupid.

Respect is all that matters.

Once Valerie returned to shore, she immediately relayed the news to Muhammad: "He Kang has already landed on the island."

Mu Hao stood up: "Very good, you did well. The rest is none of your business."

"That—that ugly fifteen thousand dollars—"

Henghao said with some disdain, "You can keep it yourself."

Valerie's heart was pounding: "If O'Connor gets arrested, will he tell—?"

Mu Hao didn't say anything and hung up the phone immediately.

Samuel was also making final preparations.

After seven days of silence, trading can finally begin.

For the past seven days, everything has been normal in the vicinity of Hart Island, and no one has attempted to approach the island, so the last time Leon and his group landed on the island must have been a coincidence.

The man in the suit said coldly, "You'd better not have any illusions."

He didn't mention that Leon had been rescued by someone else.

Tonight's events seemed to him like only the ugly could happen:

First, the incident in Lyon was just an accident, and the Monroe Corporation did not want to publicly intervene in the conflict, so today's arms deal will proceed smoothly.

Ugh, today's deal went wrong. It means the Monroe family knows what happened on Hart Island, but I don't know why they had to get involved.

When Alger arrived at the corridor, he would naturally turn his attention to the Monroe family. The Monroe Group was doomed! No matter how powerful a family was, it was nothing more than a large ant in front of the King of New York.

Samuel sighed.

Just then, a voice suddenly rang in his ears: "Inspector Stone!"

He looked up in surprise and saw that it was Mumm-Carter.

Samuel was taken aback and quickly stood up, offering the head seat to Muhammad: "Director Carter, what brings you here?"

Samuel's appointment as Superintendent of Police, recommended by Pi, is a done deal, and the Ugly Man is currently enjoying the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

Muhao sat in Samuel's seat, staring at Samuel.

Samuel was initially puzzled, but quickly became nervous: "Chief Carter? What's going on?"

Mu Hao asked calmly, "What are you planning to do on Hart Island tonight?"

Upon hearing this, Samuel shuddered and broke out in a cold sweat.

He forced himself to say, "You—I don't know what you're talking about—"

Mu Hao picked up a cigar and started smoking: "My dear Chief Superintendent, is there anything you'd like to say to me?"

Samuel's fingers trembled: "Nothing, I really don't know what you're talking about—"

"Really?" Mu Hao said casually, "Alright, I'll take you to a nice place to drink, and we'll come back tomorrow morning."

"This..." Samuel certainly couldn't leave; he had to stay and take charge today.

Mu Hao sneered and said again, "I can tell you some more information: some people are lurking on the island with weapons."

Samuel's face went from ashen to deathly pale: "What?!"

Henghao calmly asked, "Don't you have anything you want to say to me yet?"

Samuel could no longer bear it. He had no idea how much Muhao knew, nor could he figure out Muhao's attitude.

If Mu Hao harbored hostility towards him, he shouldn't have recommended himself to the Chief Superintendent of Police.

"I'm here to save you, my Chief Inspector."

Chief Superintendent of Police?

Samuel immediately understood.

Like all police chiefs, Muller always wanted to control the entire NYPD and extend his power to every sheriff.

Even the lowest-ranking police officers.

However, every Commissioner General of Police would obstruct the Commissioner's actions, which was a testament to the Commissioner General's power.

If Mu Hao seizes upon his weakness and promotes him to Chief Superintendent of Police, then he will not swear to obey Mu Hao's orders.

Mu Hao thus achieved his goal of completely controlling the entire NYPD...

That's it!

Henry Carter, that bastard, is so cunning!

When exactly did he learn about Hart Island?

How much evidence of my crimes does he have?

Henry reiterated, "Either you tell me now, or you go and explain to the inspector and the judge, Mr. Chief Superintendent. You choose."

Samuel could no longer withstand the pressure and tremblingly recounted what had happened: "Years ago, I partnered with someone to trade some items on Hart Island—well, illegal items, mostly contraband weapons, and some human organs and drugs."

"Who is the real seller?"

"I have no idea."

Muli glanced at him: "There's a deal tonight, right?"

"Yes."

Who is the buyer?

"The Ghost Gang".

"So, the NYPD's efforts to combat Dahao have been ineffective because you were the one causing trouble!" Dahao said angrily.

Samuel quickly denied it: "No, no! It wasn't me! Chief Carter! I just made things easy for him on Hart Island, allowing him to conduct some activities there that weren't convenient to do in New York City."

"And then? Is smuggling involved?"

"Yes."

"What about the coast guard?"

"I don't know, I only know about things on my side. The man in the suit will handle the security detail."

"A man in a suit?"

"Yes, the seller's black gloves, his nickname is 'The Man in the Suit.' I don't know his real name, but the seller is very powerful and can do a lot of things."

Mu Hao narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

"I want you to kill all those who came to the island today."

"What?!" Samuel exclaimed in surprise. "Who is on the island?"

"O'Connor, and Isabella."

O'Connor! Isabella! Samuel clenched his fists tightly.

He instantly understood why the other party wanted to go to the island; O'Connor was vying for the position of Chief Superintendent of Police.

Isabella, that crazy woman, wants to step on my head to gain a lot of political achievements!

"That beggar!" Samuel silently clenched his fist.

"But—Chief Carter, why are you helping me?"

"I've chosen you. We're on the same team for now, and you'll have to swear an oath from now on."

Samuel's face fell.

Sure enough!

I doubt I'll have a particularly comfortable job as the Chief Superintendent of Police.

Who leaked the secret?

do not know.

However, now is not the time for Samuel to think about other things; he needs to get through tonight first.

"I see."

"The most important task is to kill O'Connor and Isabella! You must kill him! If he comes back alive, even without capturing Dahau, once the news of the arms deal on Hart Island leaks out, you're finished."

37

Samuel nodded gravely.

There's a hidden dock there, which certainly couldn't have been built overnight.

This easily leads to a question: if it is necessary to continuously go to Hart Island to build a dock, then why didn't the water police find anything, and why did the radar fail?

If the investigation continues in this direction, it will be easy to discover that Samuel periodically turns off the radar.

At that point, trouble will come to your own head.

O'Connor and Isabella must be killed!

Samuel said fiercely, "I want him dead. But wasn't Isabella your choice? Why did you let her..."

""

"That damn bitch is investigating me!" Muhammad Carter said, half-jokingly. "She's insane!"

Samuel realized that he had figured everything out.

He took a deep breath: "OK, BOSS, it seems we share the same goal."

Mu Hao patted Samuel on the shoulder with satisfaction: "So, can I trust you tonight?"

"Of course," Samuel said aggressively. "Killing O'Connor is the only way I can keep my position as Superintendent. Killing Isabella is the only way I can avoid being investigated by the Internal Affairs Department every day."

Mu Hao was very satisfied: "OK, you can't let someone take your place as Chief Superintendent of Police right now, it would be very embarrassing for me."

Lyon stepped off the plane and through the gate, feeling much more relaxed.

The surrounding environment was so new and different from New York.

Looking into the distance, the city was brightly lit and not as old as he had imagined; in fact, the city was better than he had imagined.

He quickly found a Hilton hotel to stay at, where the surrounding environment was very relaxing.

He stood nervously by the window, peering out, afraid that someone had followed him there.

Then, I discovered some scenes that I hadn’t seen in the United States: some people were jogging at night, and some women who were obviously working women were rushing to catch a bus.

Everyone was very relaxed, and no one seemed worried about the dangers of the night.

This made Lyon feel very strange.

Anyway, at least no one was carrying a gun, so I'm safe!

Lyon finally breathed a sigh of relief.

After nearly ten hours of fleeing, he finally arrived at a safe location and felt incredibly relieved.

Lyon picked up his phone and casually scrolled through the news. A headline caught his eye: "Monroe Group successfully acquires Hauser & Stall Arms, officially entering the arms industry. The acquisition, which lasted one year and three months and involved over $47 billion, marks a strategic shift for Monroe Group from traditional media and retail to the defense industry. Group CEO Elton Monroe stated: 'This is a key step for Monroe Group in its globalization strategy.'"

'

FXXK! Leon angrily threw his phone away.

After negotiating the business for a year, I realized I knew absolutely nothing!

Are you really that wary of me?

Am I still a son of the Monroe family?

He doesn't want to get involved with the Monroe Group, but you can't just keep quiet about it to me!

Just then, his phone rang. It was Matthias Monroe, his lovely but despicable father.

Lyon, being at the University of Tokyo, felt somewhat confident and decisively answered the phone.

Matthias asked in surprise, "Lyon, why did you suddenly go to Tokyo University?"

Lyon said angrily, "Because I'm afraid of dying."

Matthias grew increasingly astonished: "Who wants to kill you?"

"My brother, my dear brother, Elton Monroe!"

Matthias was completely bewildered and remained silent for a long while before saying:

"...Are you misunderstanding something?"

Lyon's pent-up fear and rage from the past few days erupted all at once: "What did I misunderstand? You have no idea what Ren Tian has gone through!"

"The other day I went fishing, and do you know what happened on the way back? The rudder went out of control. If it weren't for luck, we almost crashed into an island! It's winter now, if I had fallen into the water, I would have been done for!"

"Guess what happened? Someone snapped the rudder signal cable by hand! The ship had barely docked when that bastard's water police forcibly dragged us in for questioning! And then? Then he told me there was no problem! Everything was normal!" Leon laughed angrily, "If my old friend of many years hadn't told me that someone had snapped and then reconnected the rudder signal cable, I wouldn't have known this had happened! Elton even bribed the water police!"

Matthias remained silent.

"But—that doesn't prove it's Elton's. Maybe some repairman accidentally broke it—"

"Yes! Yes! Your lovely son Elton would never do such a thing! But do you know what happened to me yesterday when I fled to Canada? I was kidnapped! Kidnapped by that beggar!"

"I disguised myself, changed my clothes, and even drove the car my friend provided. That beggar bastard must have been bribed by Elton! Then, as soon as I got in the car, someone pressed a pistol against the back of my head! That beggar's .45 pistol, right against the back of my head! And it had a silencer!"

Lyon pointed to a spot on the back of his head, incredibly excited: "You know what? Mr. Monroe, I was just one trigger away from death!"

"And then..." Matthias said.

"That's all. I was lucky and got away." He deliberately omitted Richard's information.

Richard was his biggest asset in enabling him to have a better life at the University of Tokyo and return to New York.

It was impossible to tell her father.

Matthias paused for a moment, knowing that his son did not trust him and that he must have received help from certain forces to escape.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

"I'm not going back for the next three years anyway," Lyon said angrily.

"No, you have to come back! I need to find out what really happened," Matthias said in a deep voice.

For the past ten years, Ren has been working hard to eliminate direct conflicts between his brothers.

In the end, it still came to this.

"Elton shouldn't have done that; there must be some misunderstanding."

"Misunderstand?"

"Even after all this, you still don't believe me!"

"If I had run any slower, I would have been stuffed into a bucket of cement and thrown into New York Harbor!"

"That's true, okay, then just consider it a misunderstanding!"

Lyon hung up the phone immediately.

Matthias remained silent for a long time, his expression gradually turning ferocious.

Why do brothers have to kill each other?

what?

Why must brothers kill each other?!

Elton, I gave you everything, why did you still kill Leon?

He coughed violently, and a metallic taste of blood rose in his throat.

After his anger subsided, all he could do was sigh deeply; he had no more time left.

Over such a long period of time, Elton has completely taken control of the group, and his influence has penetrated every corner of the Monroe Group. Matthias is also unable to replace him with a new leader.

Matthias remained silent for a long time, then called to his trusted confidant: "Next, go and investigate this matter..."

""

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