You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Chapter 83 Power Has a Vacuum (4k)

The back room of the barbershop.

The soundproofing here is surprisingly good. Once the heavy security door is closed, the noisy rain and the buzzing of the queuing crowd outside are instantly cut off.

The furnishings in the house gave off a tacky, nouveau riche vibe.

Genuine leather sofas, a huge mahogany coffee table, and a poster of a scarred villain hanging on the wall.

Big T plopped down in an extra-large boss's chair, which creaked as it sat down.

Lyon sat down as well, originally intending to take the initiative and give this fat black man a warning, asking him if his act of showing mercy at the door today was some kind of wicked scheme he was plotting behind the scenes.

Before he could even speak, the big T on the other side couldn't hold back any longer.

He casually grabbed the cigar box on the table, but instead of fawningly lighting a cigarette for Leon like he had done in the backyard last time, he angrily slammed the lid down, his face clearly saying, "I'm really annoyed."

"Yo, Officer Vance. Since it's just the two of us here today, I'll be frank with you."

Big T spoke in a gruff voice, his tone full of regret: "I admit defeat about what happened last time."

"But I have to make this clear. It's not that I'm afraid of you, nor that I think you're so great."

"It was those naive brats down there who screwed me over!"

He pointed outside the door, his face full of disappointment: "Those idiots told me that you single-handedly took on five heavily armed robbers at the bank entrance, praising you like you were the Terminator."

"That's why I took out my best cigar to light yours, to give you face, even though you kidnapped my brother and I didn't say a word."

At this point, Big T snorted coldly, somewhat embarrassed and angry: "And then? I had someone inquire about it later."

"That's completely untrue!"

"Isn't that just a drug addict who's too high on himself to even hold a beat-up revolver properly!"

"Those guys whose brains are fried, my men can take care of any blind guy they pick off the street."

"You were just lucky to get a few shots fired at him."

"You're trying to show off on my turf with this kind of record? That's a bit underhanded, isn't it?"

The more Da T talked, the more aggrieved she felt.

He, the boss of two streets, was actually intimidated by an ordinary patrolman who killed a drug addict, and even bowed and scraped. How could he face the underworld if this got out?

"To put it bluntly..."

Big T leaned forward, trying to use his size advantage to put pressure on Leon, although Leon found the pressure somewhat amusing: "I'm giving you face because you're wearing this uniform, because you're a cop."

"But that doesn't mean you can keep shitting on my head on my turf."

"If it weren't for your badge, I would have had you thrown out long ago, based on the way you swaggered in!"

"Don't think that killing a drug addict makes you a Vietnam War hero. In this area, you still have to follow the rules."

Big T poured out all his grievances in one breath.

He certainly didn't really want to fight Lyon; he wouldn't dare to directly attack the police even if he had a million lives.

He just felt that his previous act of sliding to his knees at lightning speed was too embarrassing, and now that he had figured out the other party's background, he was eager to get back at them and show that he was not someone to be trifled with.

As Lyon sat opposite him listening to this righteous accusation, his expression gradually changed from calm to somewhat strange.

This is too much!

That's too primitive.

Big T's information network is really outdated.

The night before last, I wiped out a branch of the Blood Gang in the industrial zone, along with a whole team of mercenaries. Such a big thing, the press conference was already held this morning.

So this guy is still hung up on that drug addict outside the bank last week?

The information delay was so slow it was almost touching.

"Big T, oh Big T."

Leon finally couldn't help but interrupt his output.

He crossed his legs, looked at the gang leader who was still living in his own world, shook his head, and then looked at him with the kind of look of pity for someone with intellectual disabilities: "Seriously, you should consider getting a new batch of men."

"Or perhaps we could try a better internet connection?"

"Your source of information is absolutely terrible."

"You're so trashy I don't even know whether I should pity you or not."

"Does your underling gather intelligence by staking out kindergartens?"

"You're calling my intelligence garbage?"

Big T snorted defiantly, about to retort, "My informants are all over these streets," but before he could finish, Leon shut him down with a leisurely question.

"The other night, there was a huge commotion in the industrial area; even the FBI got involved. You must have heard about it, right?"

"Of course."

Big T curled his lip, looking like an insider: "That's the Blood Gang fighting with the police, and I heard they're adding those mercenaries who never do anything right. The commotion can be heard several blocks away."

"But that was a war of the gods."

Big T spread his hands, looking at him with an expression that said, "That's something for big bosses like gang leaders to worry about. I'm just a small-time boss who runs a barbershop and also manages some small-time dealerships on two streets."

"You can't exactly tell me that you were responsible for that massive incident that resulted in the deaths of over a dozen people and even caused a major setback for the task force, can you?"

By the end, Big T himself was laughing, as if he had heard the funniest joke ever.

'

Lyon sighed, speechless and somewhat powerless.

He didn't say anything, but silently took out his phone from his pocket, unlocked the screen, opened Twitter, randomly found a news page full of high-definition live photos, and then gently pushed the lit side of the screen onto the coffee table in front of Big T.

"Take a look."

"What the heck—so mysterious—"

Big T glanced at Leon suspiciously, muttered something under his breath, leaned forward, and squinted at his phone screen.

At first, his expression was disdainful.

But two seconds later, his eyes widened suddenly.

On the screen is a high-resolution photo of a battle scene in an industrial area.

Big T stiffly raised his head, looked at the person in the photo, and then at Leon, who was sitting opposite him with an innocent look on his face.

He lowered his head again and swiped the screen with his finger.

The next photo is of Leon pointing his finger at an FBI agent and cursing.

"Gulp."

Big T swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

"Holy shit—"

He let out another desperate groan, his expression shifting rapidly from shock to terror, and finally to utter speechlessness and a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Then, as if his spine had been removed, he slumped into the boss's chair, his imposing aura instantly collapsing, replaced by a pained expression.

"Boss————"

This time, Big T didn't even call him "police officer" anymore, directly addressing him as "boss," his tone as soft as noodles: "No—do you have some kind of problem with me, sir?"

"With your skills, you could win over the Mexicans or run for mayor."

Why are you staring at me like that?

He pointed to his own nose, looking aggrieved: "I'm just a small-time boss! Little Karami!"

"I only have about ten core brothers who can fight, and the rest of the scattered kids on the periphery don't even add up to more than a few dozen people."

"The little bit of goods we sell is like breadcrumbs compared to the ton-based businesses in the industrial zone—it's like comparing a whole cake to breadcrumbs!"

"This little bit of money isn't even enough to fill a tooth gap, is it?"

"We've never had any grudges against each other, and I even lit a cigarette for you last time!"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you harping on me? If you're short on sales targets, how about I go catch a couple of robbers on the next street for you? Stop messing with me!"

Big T really wanted to cry.

He just wanted to quietly sell some medicine, collect some protection money, and live a comfortable life.

As a result, Lyon would come here every few days, and each time he came he would bring news that was enough to make his heart stop.

Who can stand this?

Seeing that Big T looked like he was about to cry, Leon waved his hand.

"Alright, stop howling."

Leon took his phone back: "I didn't mean to mess with you, nor did I intend to arrest you. Your petty affairs aren't on my agenda right now."

"I came here today simply because I was passing by."

"I was planning to go home and sleep, but then I saw this long line blocking half the street. As a responsible police officer, I had to come down and check if someone was organizing an illegal assembly."

"The result was unexpected—"

Lyon pointed outside the door: "You're actually doing charity work? Has the sun risen in the west?"

Hearing this, Big T breathed a slight sigh of relief. After confirming that Leon hadn't come to wipe out the whole family, he regained a bit of his boss-like demeanor, but he didn't dare to be as arrogant as before.

"Hey—you mean this?"

Big T picked up his cigar again, twirling it in his hand without lighting it, his eyes flickering slightly: "Well—it's a holiday, isn't it? Halloween."

"Give the neighbors some perks so they can go back and roast a turkey and have a good holiday. We're all neighbors, it's only right, it's only right."

Speak like a human.

Leon leaned back on the sofa, looking at him with a half-smile: "If you keep talking nonsense with me, I'll start to suspect that you're hiding drugs in the turkey's belly, and then I'll have to call the police."

"No, no, no!"

Big T quickly waved his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally sighed, revealing his true intentions with a hint of helplessness: "Uh—okay, let's win people over. Is that alright?"

He gestured towards the door with his chin: "Boss, you know what kind of mess this neighborhood is."

"If I want to do business here, I need someone to protect me. But who will protect me?"

"Other gangs either demand protection money from me or want to take over my territory, so I can only rely on the people who live here."

"Otherwise, how could gangs establish themselves in this place?"

"My guys, Tony, and that idiot doorman from earlier, didn't they all grow up on these streets?"

"Their mother, grandmother, all their aunts, uncles, or cousins ​​live here."

"If things get chaotic here, or if all the residents hate me to the core, how am I supposed to do business?"

'

Leon nodded, signaling him to continue.

Big T was indeed not talking nonsense to himself.

Gangs don't appear out of thin air; they are poisonous weeds that sprout from the soil of the community, their roots intertwined with the people here.

"If all I know is how to collect protection money, or how to intimidate people with a gun, then sooner or later I will be shot in the back, or sold to the police by some traitor who wants to climb the ranks."

Big T rubbed his hands together: "That's why I have to support them."

"I give out some meat during holidays, I cover some of the tuition fees for someone's child, and I lend some money to an elderly lady who doesn't have money for medicine. Although interest is still charged, at least I'm willing to lend. Would the bank lend to them?"

"A little favor."

"But as long as I do this, these people will remember my kindness and treat me as one of their own."

1

"As soon as a cop with an unfamiliar face enters this street, within two minutes, an old lady will tip me off."

"If any outside gangs try to come in and take over our territory, they'll help me drive them out."

"Even if the police come to arrest someone, as long as it's not a serious crime like murder or arson, these neighbors will help block the way, make trouble, and even help me hide the person."

At this point, a hint of pride, mixed with a touch of helplessness, appeared on Big T's face: "Besides, I support these dozens of people. Although they do dirty work, at least it's a job that keeps them fed and prevents them from starving to death."

Lyon listened to these words and fell silent.

He looked at Big T's greasy, chubby face and suddenly felt a sense of irony.

This is the fundamental reason why the police have such a hard time moving around in these communities.

It's not because there aren't enough police officers, nor because their equipment isn't good enough.

It's because here, the police badge represents trouble, tickets, and putting their kids in jail.

Big T, this kind of vampire, plays the role of protector to some extent.

"call----"

Lyon sighed and stood up.

Big T was startled when he suddenly stood up, thinking he was about to get beaten up, and instinctively shrank back: "Big... Boss? What are you doing?"

Lyon neither drew his gun nor made a move.

He walked up to Big T, reached out, and patted him on the broad shoulder.

"never mind."

"Anyway, just like you said, the government won't give out relief in this godforsaken place, and banks won't lend money to these poor people with zero credit scores."

"Although your money was obtained illegally, but—"

"Whether your initial intention was to win people's hearts or to sell more drugs, at least today, you are indeed letting them have a good holiday."

"I won't cause you any trouble, just for today."

Big T was stunned.

He blinked, clearly not quite understanding the deeper meaning behind Lyon's words.

"What do you mean? You're not going to arrest me?"

"There is no vacuum of power. If the government withdraws, someone else will naturally fill the void."

Leon looked at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "Although this method of filling the gaps is terrible, it's still a kind of order, isn't it?"

"If you don't understand, that's fine."

Leon didn't explain, he just shook his head, reached into his pocket, pulled out a gummy candy he had just bought, and tossed it to the ground.

"Whoosh."

The candy arced through the air and landed in Big T's arms.

Happy Halloween, Fatty.

After saying that, Leon pushed open the back door without looking back and walked into the alley in the rainy night.

Big T hurriedly caught the candy, watched Leon's disappearing figure, then looked at the pink strawberry-flavored gummy candy in his hand, and his chubby face twitched a couple of times.

He still didn't quite understand what Leon was talking about. With his level of education, it was too difficult for him to grasp such concepts. This way of winning people over was something he had only learned from the previous gangsters in this area.

"I'm a gang leader—and I'm not a kid."

"Why are you giving me candy?"

He muttered something, but instead of throwing the candy away, he hesitated for a moment, then unwrapped it and put it in his mouth.

So sweet.

'

"—No, wait, I have diabetes—!"