21: Chapter 21 FBI Raids Home! Director Murphy and his associates are arrested!

At 9:00 AM the next morning, at the 127th Precinct.

The air was filled with the smell of stale coffee and the sweet aroma of donuts.

The dispatchers were lazily handling emergency calls, while a few veteran officers gathered around the water cooler, discussing last night's game.

Everything was as stagnant and peaceful as always.

Until a row of black Chevrolet Suburbans pulled up neatly in front of the precinct, looking like a funeral procession.

The car doors flew open, and dozens of agents wearing dark blue bulletproof vests emblazoned with "FBI" filed out.

They carried M4 Carbines in their hands, moving with a crisp efficiency that made it look like they were about to tear the building down.

The woman leading them wore a beige trench coat, her high heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

Jessica Vance.

The moment she pushed open the precinct doors, the entire lobby fell into a deathly silence.

"Everyone step away from your desks! Hands behind your heads! Get away from the keyboards!"

The shout shattered the silence as the FBI agents flooded in like a black tide, quickly securing every exit and key position.

"What do you think you're doing? This is a police station!"

The receptionist officer at the front desk tried to stand up, only to be shoved right back into his chair by the dark barrel of a gun.

Jessica didn't even look at the small fry, walking straight toward the Chief's office.

"Chief Brian," she kicked open the half-closed mahogany door and slammed an arrest warrant, stamped by a federal judge, onto his broad desk.

"You are under arrest. The charges include bribery, money laundering, conspiracy with organized crime, and... complicity in murder."

Chief Brian was chewing on half a donut, his fat face a mask of complete shock.

It was the most humiliating moment of his life; powdered sugar still clung to the corner of his mouth as the silver handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists.

"You can't arrest me! I want to call the mayor! This is a political persecution!"

Chief Brian squealed like a fat pig bound for the slaughter as two strong agents hoisted him up and dragged him out, his feet dangling off the ground.

At the other end of the hallway, Murphy was trying to slip out the back door.

He had heard the commotion—it wasn't just footsteps, it was the sound of hell knocking on his door.

"Detective Murphy, don't move."

Two agents blocked the back door.

Murphy's hand instinctively reached for the holster at his waist. It was pure instinct, and a desperate madness.

Thud!

It wasn't a gunshot, but an agent delivering a flying kick straight to Murphy's stomach.

Murphy doubled over like a shrimp, vomiting stomach acid all over the floor.

Immediately after, a heavy boot stepped on his face, pinning his greasy cheek hard against the floor.

"Ah—!" Murphy shrieked as his cheek scraped against the rough floor, leaving bloody streaks.

Chen Mo stood near the entrance of the breakroom not far away, crouching on the ground with his hands over his head, looking utterly "panicked."

He had chosen his spot perfectly—unobtrusive, yet offering a clear view of the entire drama.

As Murphy was dragged down the hallway, his bloodshot eyes suddenly locked onto Chen Mo.

It was the gaze of a dying beast.

In that instant, all the clues connected in Murphy's chaotic mind.

The USB drive, the non-existent contact, the inexplicably leaked information... and Chen Mo's overly clean hands at the auto repair shop that time.

"It was you!!"

Murphy suddenly began to struggle like a madman, the veins on his neck bulging as spit flew from his mouth.

"It was you, you bastard! You sold me out! You have the USB drive, don't you? It was you!"

His voice was shrill and distorted, echoing through the quiet hallway.

All eyes instantly turned to Chen Mo.

Chen Mo shrank back violently, his face pale, his eyes filled with innocence and fear.

He looked at Murphy, his lips trembling. "Sir... Officer Murphy, what are you talking about? I don't know anything..."

"It was you! I'm going to kill you!" Murphy tried to lung forward, but the agents pinned him down ruthlessly, one even pressing a knee into the back of his neck.

"Take him away! The madman is raving." The lead agent frowned, clearly dismissing Murphy's words as the desperate thrashing of a cornered dog.

Jessica stopped in her tracks.

Standing in the middle of the hallway, her gaze swept past the crowd and landed on Chen Mo.

The young Asian officer was crouching on the floor, looking small and helpless.

The colleagues around him were all looking at him with sympathy—everyone knew how Murphy usually bullied this intern. Now that Murphy was going down, he still tried to drag a scapegoat with him. He was truly scum.

But Jessica didn't move.

A woman's intuition, or rather, the instinct of an excellent hunter, told her that something was off.

It was too perfect.

The young man's fear was too textbook, as if it had been rehearsed.

And beneath that mask of fear, Jessica seemed to sense a calmness—a deep, ocean-like tranquility.

She walked over to Chen Mo and looked down at him.

"Robert Chen?" Jessica spoke, her voice cold.

Chen Mo looked up, a perfectly timed flicker of awe toward the federal agent crossing his eyes. "Y-Yes, ma'am."

"The hero who shot Marcus?" Jessica's gaze scraped across Chen Mo's face like a blade.

"Just lucky... ma'am." Chen Mo swallowed hard.

Jessica stared at him for a full five seconds. It wasn't until the agent beside her nudged her that she withdrew her gaze.

"If necessary, we will contact you to assist with the investigation."

With that, she turned and left.

As the last FBI vehicle roared away, the 127th Precinct felt like a hollowed-out beehive.

Chen Mo slowly stood up from the ground and brushed the dust off his knees.

An older officer nearby patted his shoulder. "Don't mind him. That bastard Murphy has gone mad. You alright?"

"I'm fine, just... a bit shaken up." Chen Mo squeezed out a forced smile.

He looked at the bright sunshine outside the door and let out a soft sigh.

Murphy was locked up, and so was Chief Brian.

The sky over this district was finally clear.