186: Chapter 183: Sleepless Nights

The police officers walking at the very front let out various exclamations, followed immediately by all sorts of strange noises.

Doug Hall walked over suspiciously. As soon as he entered, he smelled various strange odors—the scent of many homeless people relieving themselves, the stench of rotting animal carcasses, and some sour smells. The mixture of odors was nauseating.

As he approached the officers, his pupils suddenly constricted. He froze in place, unable to say a word.

Then, the nausea he had been suppressing surged up. Amidst the various stenches, there was now a thick smell of blood and gunpowder.

Looking at the scene before him, he felt as if he were standing on a pile of corpses, and in fact, he was.

Urgh!

One officer couldn't take it anymore and bolted outside, followed by a second, then a third.

After running out and vomiting, they realized that Deputy Commissioner Doug Hall hadn't come out.

"What are you doing? Mr. Doug Hall is still inside, and you just came out. What if he's in danger?" Police Commissioner Chief John Beers shouted in anger.

"Sir, it's... inside... I think you should see it for yourself, sir."

One officer wiped the filth from the corner of his mouth and stammered.

It wasn't that he lacked courage or hadn't seen the world; it was mainly the mixture of smells, combined with the sudden sight of a floor full of corpses in the dark, that made it impossible to hold back.

"Aren't they just the bodies of some thugs? It's not the first time you've handled corpses!"

Chief John Beers snorted coldly. Without waiting for anyone to say anything, he waved his hand and led the rest inside.

But when he walked in and saw the scene, his heart sank. His mental fortitude was strong, but his legs felt a bit weak. He looked at Mr. Doug Hall beside him.

He found that Hall was also pale and dazed.

"Mr. Chief John Beers, I think the two of us need to have a serious talk!"

Doug Hall looked at Chief John Beers, his superior, with a face full of rage.

"I... I..." Chief John Beers wanted to say something.

But Doug Hall pulled him to a corner outside.

"Mr. Chief John Beers, you said they were only dealing with one person, an ordinary Gang leader. Now you're telling me this is just a trivial matter?"

Doug Hall was going crazy; his anger was uncontrollable.

Finding dozens of corpses in ordinary clothes was nothing; the two of them could easily handle that. But what were they seeing now? A large number of combatants' corpses wearing military-grade protective gear and even carrying firearms.

It was obvious they weren't official personnel, but the consequences would be massive.

As the Police Commissioner, Chief John Beers naturally understood this, and he was also breaking out in a cold sweat.

This was too much trouble. First of all, in the US, while guns aren't banned, protective gear is strictly prohibited—even as strictly as guns are banned in Xia Country.

The protective gear these people wore was all high-quality military grade. Finding even one piece would be enough to cause a sensation locally; yet here were so many people, all dead, wearing sophisticated gear.

What did this mean? It meant the person who killed them was fully capable of wiping out a city's police department.

With such a force hidden in the shadows, any unrest they caused would be no different from a terrorist attack.

And in the US, terrorist attacks are always extremely serious matters.

As for why the US doesn't ban guns but bans protective gear, it's not exactly like ancient Xia Country, but the logic is the same.

In ancient times, especially during the Song Dynasty, swords weren't banned, but private possession of armor was strictly forbidden.

This was because someone wearing armor was essentially a "mini-superman." With just one weapon, a single person could easily slaughter dozens of unarmored people.

Similarly, an incident occurred in the US. Initially, there were no restrictions, just like with firearms.

But during an arrest of a drug trafficking organization—only about a few people—the police used personnel to suppress and kill them. Although it was eventually settled, because the suspects were wearing full bulletproof gear and were armed to the teeth...

Over a hundred police officers died before they finally managed to kill the suspects.

So now Chief John Beers knew very well that this matter was a huge deal.

There was no way to hide it. These officers all had records; he couldn't silence everyone.

"Mr. Doug Hall, I think we should calm down," Chief John Beers consoled.

"Calm down? Shit! To hell with calming down! What do you think we should do? We're definitely finished! God, I still have all kinds of loans to pay off, and now I'm ruined!"

Doug Hall scratched his head. The bribe money he had taken earlier was useless now, and he knew he was about to be fired.

"Wait, I'll make a call. We... we'll find a way."

Chief John Beers frowned deeply and rubbed his temples, his heart also filled with immense frustration.

These damn bastards, he shouldn't have cooperated with them.

—

In the heart of the Tenderloin District, at a place called the Blast Bar—

It was filled with people head-bobbing, a scene that looked like a dance of demons at first glance. Smoke filled the air, and one could see figures with hollow eyes, their bodies twisting in bizarre poses.

Men and women alike were there, and on the central platform, girls with hot bodies were performing seductive moves. As they danced, items of clothing were discarded like burdens.

Such actions always drew cheers and shouts from the crowd below. Many people held cash, dancing and shouting with all their might.

In a private room on the second floor, through the floor-to-ceiling window, a middle-aged man in a white suit, hands in his pockets and with a head of white hair, watched the chaos below calmly.

Compared to high-end areas, he preferred it here, even though he had plenty of money now.

Freddy, the leader of the Mexican Gang, the Vagos Gang.

The cigarette in his mouth continuously puffed out misty smoke. He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled.

"Hehe, it's about time. Time to move against those damn yellow monkeys!"

He chuckled and checked the time. 8:00 PM. This was the perfect time to cause a scene with great fanfare. He liked to be flashy; if it were late at night, it would lose much of its fun.

Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz...

Suddenly, just as he was about to take out his phone to call his subordinates, the phone vibrated on its own.

"Who is it?"

"Oh, it's my esteemed Police Commissioner. Is there something wrong?"

Hearing the familiar voice on the other end, Freddy smiled even more broadly.

These FBI guys were a pack of hyenas. Before taking action, he had to feed these insatiable fellows well. Even though he hated them, the rules couldn't be broken.

"What?!" Suddenly hearing the commissioner's angry words over the phone, Freddy's smile froze.