Chapter 82 Power and Money
Everyone had more or less flaws and strengths. The difference was that some were obvious to see, while others only became clear when something happened.
Robert was the kind of person whose strengths and weaknesses were very apparent. He could be impulsive and reckless, but on the flip side, he was warm-hearted and never calculative or petty with friends, making him very likable.
If it were someone else, they might choose to lay low for a few days after provoking Chris to avoid trouble and observe the situation. But Robert didn't even change his place that night; he went back and slept as if nothing had happened.
The next morning.
Benjamin arrived at Robert's place and kicked him in the head.
"Fuck, who is it?" Robert woke up groggily.
Benjamin, hands behind his back, his face purple with anger, said, "You had a few drinks and caused trouble again. Who told you to mess with Chris?"
Robert, shirtless, sat on the bed, blinking, and said impatiently, "They hit me first. Everyone in the music bar saw it. What do you expect me to do?"
"Do you think I don't know anything? If you hadn't gone there to stir things up, would they have hit you?"
"Uncle Benjamin, think about the incident on Maple Street. Nick Anderson is gone, and my nephew got caught and probably won't get out. We've lost so many people," Robert said with red eyes. "We're a big family, but if we keep getting bullied, the guys won't work for you. Selling drugs at 11 pounds is enough to get you executed. The risk is the same for everyone, but if they work for the Patrick family, they will get booze, beef, and respect. However, if they work for us, they get nothing but worry about getting caught by the cops and slapped around by the other side. It's too humiliating."
Benjamin wavered at his remarks.
"Last night, I did lose control a bit, but you can't blame me. If they hadn't hit me, I would have left," Robert said dutifully, "Uncle Benjamin, I know what you're going to say. I'll be more careful in the future. Don't be mad, okay?"
"You need to grow up. Business isn't just about fighting." Benjamin sighed. "Didn't Alexander tell you? Samuel has repeatedly instructed us to keep a low profile lately. If you cause trouble now, they won't protect you anymore."
"Yeah, I got it," Robert, looking haggard from a night of drinking, said with red eyes and a sallow face.
"Look at you," Benjamin said, glancing at Robert and frowning. "Wash your face and come with me to the warehouse to check the goods."
"Okay." Robert nodded eagerly.
The drunken incident passed quietly. In the following week, the streets remained calm, and it seemed that Robert forcing Chris to kneel at gunpoint didn't affect the Anderson family and the Patrick family.
That noon.
At the entrance of a small restaurant across from the police station, Alexander, dressed in plain clothes, walked in with John.
"Alexander, come here and take a seat," a young man in his mid-twenties stood up and waved.
Alexander glanced at him and walked over expressionlessly.
"Alexander, is it too noisy here? We can get a private room if you prefer," the young man asked obsequiously.
Alexander hadn't felt the perks of power before, but since he officially took over as the leader of the third group, this subtle feeling had gradually emerged.
The young man in front of him was an immigration agent, mainly helping people from unplanned areas apply for permanent residency in District 9. But he had a powerful background, and he had many illegal operations in secret. One of his errand boys was caught by John a few days ago. The young man had connected with Alexander through Andrew, seeking for help to get out of trouble.
After sitting down, Alexander said softly, "You sit, too."
"Okay, okay." The young man sat down and immediately turned around and shouted, "Quick, bring us food."
Alexander crossed his arms and remained silent.
"Alexander, have you been busy lately?"
"Not too much."
"I heard there's been a lot of personnel changes in the police station recently. Some officers have been transferred to the precinct?"
"I've been out on fieldwork recently. Not very clear." Alexander shook his head expressionlessly.
At the table, the young man kept trying to find topics to talk about, but Alexander responded briefly, making it awkward. But more importantly, the young man was increasingly afraid of Alexander because he couldn't figure out the group leader's attitude.
After a brief silence, the young man took out a gift box from his bag, smiled, and said to Alexander, "Please help with that matter, Alexander. We will avoid making mistakes in the future. Andrew knows about this and scolded me. It's tough to make money these days."
Alexander paused for a moment, pushed the gift box back, and said, "I don't need this."
"Alexander, please don't refuse me!"
"Let me finish," Alexander interrupted, frowning, and continued, "Since Andrew talked to me, I'll find a way to help you with that matter. But one thing, if you continue to buy residency rights for deceased people, forge documents, and sell them at high prices, I'll take you down, too."
"Understood. Understood." The young man nodded repeatedly.
"What's your name again?" Alexander asked.
"Just call me Thomas."
"Okay, wait for my news." Alexander nodded at him.
"Alright, alright," the young man said excitedly, "Let's eat. Let's eat."
Less than five minutes later, Alexander took a few bites and found an excuse to leave, but he specifically instructed John, "You stay and talk to him about the case."
Back at the police station, Alexander was about to call Eric when John walked in leisurely, carrying the gift box the young man had tried to give Alexander.
"Why are you back?" Alexander was puzzled.
"You left, so why should I stay and eat with them?" John replied with a smile, "Didn't you want me to stay and bring back the gift?"
Alexander sighed helplessly. "You didn't get my point."
"Then... what did you mean?" John was also puzzled.
"He's an immigration agent who makes money by exploiting others. He wouldn't give you an expensive gift." Alexander frowned. "I wanted you to stay and get to know him better. People like him, though not high in status, have a wide range of contacts. Using him will make future cases easier."
"Oh, that's what you meant." John finally understood.
Alexander glanced at John, took the box from under his arm, opened it, and found a very ordinary watch and $300 inside.
"That's quite a bit of money." John smiled at the sight of the money.
"If you don't take his money, he'll never understand you. But if you do, you'll always be worth $300 and a watch to him," Alexander said bluntly, tossing the box on the table.
John thought for a moment and nodded. "Makes sense."
Alexander took the money from the box, kept $100 for himself, and said, "I'll take this, and the rest you guys can split."
"I thought you didn't want to take the money," John asked, puzzled. "Why take $100 then?"
"You brought it back, so I have to take it," Alexander said shamelessly, "I have a kid at home who needs some medicine, so I'm short on cash."
"What about the watch? Do you take it?"
"Don't wear a new watch in the police station; it reflects poorly on us," Alexander reminded softly. "Sell it somewhere."
"Got it."
"Remember what I said," Alexander said, sitting in his chair, "In the future, keep some smart people on the streets. We don't need their gifts; we can even give them some conveniences. Understand?"
"Yeah." John finally grasped Alexander's point.
Meanwhile.
Terry sat in the office, looking at the report and cursing, "Sales dropped by 30% this week. Can someone explain why?"
A bald middle-aged man on the sofa, legs crossed, responded, "What's there to explain? Benjamin started selling drugs, and they're more than half the price of ours. Anyone with half a brain would buy from him."
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