Chapter 197 Samuel is Too Cunning
In the hospital room.
Alexander looked at Samuel, furrowing his brows. "I have no clue who leaked the info to those thugs. But I'm sure someone in our police department is feeding them, and I think it's someone high up."
"There aren't many high-ranking people, but they're hard to find. This kind of tip-off is just a phone call away. Without concrete evidence, you won't be able to dig them out," Samuel replied, crossing his arms and frowning. "You need to be more careful in the future. Many pieces of information need to be kept absolutely confidential."
"I know." Alexander nodded and then asked, "So, what's our next move? Those thugs got hit in the Welfare District, so they're probably hard to find now."
"Don't rush to catch them just yet." Samuel waved his hand.
Alexander was taken aback and asked in confusion, "Didn't you promise the police department to solve cases regularly? If it's not urgent, what are we going to report?"
"Have you figured out the motive of these thugs?" Samuel suddenly asked.
"I'm not that dumb. I can see it clearly now," Alexander replied without hesitation, "They didn't kill Zephyr over some $80,000 payment; they were definitely targeting Adam."
"Do you think these thugs have a grudge against Adam?"
"Absolutely not," Alexander responded firmly, "If it were just a grudge, they wouldn't have bothered with Hubert and exposed the Wilde family's company's bad debts. So I'm sure these thugs are working for some big shot behind the scenes, deliberately targeting Adam."
Samuel smiled upon hearing this, looking at Alexander with satisfaction as he continued to guide him, "Do you think these people will stop halfway after causing such a mess?"
Alexander was stunned.
Samuel picked up the water cup beside him, blowing on the steam as he said, "Let these thugs continue to fight Adam. When they've chewed him up completely, it'll be time for us to act."
"That makes sense!" Alexander looked at Samuel excitedly, almost blurting out that he was so cunning.
"Keep an eye on Adam, and you'll naturally find these thugs," Samuel pointed out concisely, "And in the meantime, if you can gather solid evidence of the Wilde family's gun trafficking, we'll have the leverage to choose our moves. Understand?"
"But we only have a month. Can they resolve things with Adam during the time?" Alexander asked worriedly.
Samuel smiled, "Director Flores letting me continue handling this means he's not on Adam's side. So these thugs aren't the key; the key is how far I can push the gun trafficking case."
Alexander looked at Samuel in astonishment, "So that's what Director Flores meant."
"Alright, that's enough for now. Push things forward as quickly as you can." Samuel put down the water cup, stood up, and patted Alexander on the shoulder. "You're doing a great job, always getting injured in the line of duty. Keep it up!"
Alexander smiled knowingly and immediately flattered, "For you to have a strong voice in the police department, it's a little injury for me!"
"Your shameless face looks just like Andrew's," Samuel pointed at Alexander and scolded, then turned and left.
"Samuel, I'm seriously injured. Can you get me a third-class merit? If not, a commendation from the police department would be fine, too," Alexander shouted from the bed.
Samuel couldn't be bothered to respond and quickly left the hospital room.
Two days later.
In the Riverside District council, Adam had just finished hosting a small internal meeting. He walked down the hallway with a beaming smile, frequently greeting familiar high-ranking officials and nodding.
By the time he reached the third floor, Adam's smile had disappeared. His chest felt tight, and his face was sallow. He turned into the restroom, unbuttoned his pants, and stood by the urinal, taking two to three minutes to squeeze out a few drops of dark yellow urine.
Adam still hadn't figured out who was gunning for him. The constant stress was killing his sleep. Worse, not knowing where the enemy was made it impossible to defend himself. His urine was getting darker, and his thinning hair was falling out even more.
Middle-aged, having lost a son, and facing a huge career crisis, anyone else might have been knocked out by now. But Adam had come from humble beginnings and faced many hardships. He could still grit his teeth and hold on, confident that things hadn't reached an irreparable point.
After shaking off the last drops, Adam fastened his belt and walked to the window, dialing William's number.
"Hello? Mr. Wilde."
"How's it going?" Adam asked.
"He had thought about this day a long time ago and his will is very firm. Give me some time," William replied softly.
"Time is what we lack right now," Adam said, looking down. "I urgently need a direction."
"Hold on a bit longer. I'll give you a satisfactory answer."
"Make it quick, William."
"Okay."
"Alright." Adam hung up, pondered for a moment, and then turned to leave.
Outside the door, a young man in his early twenties hurriedly walked to the urinal, urgently unbuttoning his belt and peeing like a high-pressure water gun.
Adam looked down at the urine splashes on his shoes and quickly left.
That night, around ten o'clock.
In a dark basement on Main Street, Rodolfo's arms were handcuffed behind a chair, his head hanging low, swaying side to side like a pendulum.
In another room, a young man with his legs propped up on a computer desk glanced at the surveillance screen, picked up a remote control, and decisively pressed the red button.
A low humming sound echoed, and the wires tied to Rodolfo's body sparked blue flames. He jerked upright in the iron chair, his eyes vacant.
It had been three days, almost three whole days, and William and the others hadn't asked him a single question. They didn't let him sleep and just kept him in this room, occasionally using electric shocks to keep him awake.
Rodolfo had no idea how much time had passed.
He had no idea where he was.
In three days, Rodolfo hadn't eaten a single bite, but he no longer felt hungry. He just felt his consciousness starting to blur, his heart filled with immense fear and anxiety.
"Fuck, what do you want?" Rodolfo banged his head on the iron plate, shouting hysterically, "I killed Zephyr, I killed Hubert. Avenge them, kill me!"
In the first-floor hallway.
William, with one hand in his pocket, softly asked Enrique, "How's he doing?"
"He started shouting yesterday, but we haven't responded," Enrique replied.
"That's enough. Give him the injection," William ordered concisely after a moment of thought.
In the hospital room.
Alexander was just about to have someone bring him some food when the door suddenly opened.
"Hey, Alexander, did you miss me?" Andrew walked in, covered in frost and snow, carrying two bags of takeout.
Alexander was startled and cursed, "Damn it! You scared me!"
"Samuel told me you were injured. I was scared to death and almost rushed back that day. Seriously, why do you always get hurt every time you do something? Are you destined for gunpowder or bullets?" Andrew put the food on the bedside table and turned to grab Alexander's blanket. "Let me see, where are you hurt? I know an old doctor on Maple Street who specializes in treating gunshot wounds and is good with bones. If it doesn't work..."
"Stay away from me. I have small wounds that need to treat, and I'm not wearing pants."
"We're both men. Why are you shy with me?"
As the two were messing around by the bed, Emily walked in with some fruit.
Andrew turned around and grinned. "Hey, Emily!"
Emily glanced at Alexander in the bed and replied, "Are you...having sex?"
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