Chapter 89 The Storm Hits
The next day, a little past nine in the morning.
Inside a hotel room, sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a golden hue across the floor.
On the bed, Robert was holding a woman, snoring loudly. Clothes were strewn haphazardly on the floor, along with a pile of tissues and condoms.
A rapid knocking sounded at the door, and someone outside shouted, "Robert, Robert, are you in there?"
Robert groggily woke from his sleep, rubbing his eyes and shouting, "Who is it?"
"It's Carl. Hurry up and open the door."
After regaining some soberness, Robert glanced at his watch and cursed, "It's still very early.Can't you let me get more sleep in the morning?!"
With that, Robert hastily picked up some clothes from the floor, threw them on, and opened the door.
"Robert, something serious has happened."
"What is it? Did the President die?" Robert asked, yawning.
"No joke. Something serious happened," Carl said anxiously, "Last night, our drugs killed two people. Now, forty or fifty people who bought the drugs have stormed the warehouse. Matt just got back and was beaten up."
Robert instantly sobered up. "People died? How did the buyers find out where our warehouse is?"
"No idea." Carl shook his head. "I tried calling you but couldn't get through. Benjamin is freaking out and wants you to contact him immediately."
Robert shook off her reverie and returned to her senses, immediately turning and running back into the room.
On the bed, the woman lazily opened her eyes. "Honey, why are you in such a rush?"
Robert rushed over and slapped her away. "Pants, find my pants quickly."
"Aren't you wearing them?"
Across the street from the Anderson family warehouse, Benjamin, looking pale, pushed open the car door. Wearing a military coat, he led three or four people towards the crowd not far away.
"Don't go over there. Don't."
At that moment, Matt and a young man, both covered in blood and in tattered clothes, rushed over from the side and grabbed Benjamin's arm.
"What are you two doing here?" Benjamin asked, stunned.
"There are over a hundred people inside and outside the warehouse, all old customers who have bought drugs from us. They're all crazy, attacking anyone they see," Matt said, holding his head wound. "You shouldn't go in there; they won't listen to anyone now."
"Nonsense. I have to explain myself," Benjamin shouted urgently, "Our drugs can't have any problems."
"It's no use," Matt said, gripping Benjamin's arm tightly. "Two people really died. Those customers are very emotional and won't listen to anyone. Plus, the police are here and have sealed off the warehouse. If you go in, you won't come out."
Benjamin, furious, shouted, "Why didn't you move the goods as soon as something happened?"
"I didn't even know what was happening. Suddenly, fifty people stormed in and started attacking," Matt replied helplessly. "Forget the goods; if I had been a few minutes later, I might have been beaten to death inside."
Benjamin was speechless.
"Listen to me. Let's go back and figure out what's going on," Matt said, pulling Benjamin into the car.
At the warehouse entrance, over a hundred regular customers were truly desperate. They blocked the entrance, shouting continuously.
"Benjamin, you heartless bastard! We used our hard-earned money to support you, but you sell us fake drugs that kill people!"
"Come out, and bring out those selling the drugs, or we'll storm in and beat you to death."
"In Maple Street, without us protecting you, what does the Anderson family have to compete with others? We protected you just to get some cheap drugs, but you did something so despicable!"
The shouts, cries, and chaos erupted in front of the warehouse. These poor brothers, who had scraped together money to buy drugs, were truly desperate. They hated the Anderson family for their actions, but even more, they feared that without the Anderson family, they wouldn't have access to cheap drugs and couldn't survive.
These emotions caused the crowd to lose control, starting to smash the warehouse's front door. The few police officers present couldn't stop the crowd's anger and had to retreat to the back door, calling for reinforcements.
On the street, Chris sat in a car, laughing and cursing, "Damn Robert, let's see how arrogant you can be this time."
"Chris, what should we do over there?" David asked.
"Kill them," Chris said without hesitation.
David was stunned. "Isn't that too much? Just let him go."
Chris frowned at this. "No mercy. Find someone to kill him immediately."
David felt uncomfortable hearing this but didn't say anything due to his lower status.
Around noon.
Samuel, wearing a somber expression, marched back into the precinct. The moment he stepped in, he barked, 'Summon Alexander to my office. Now."
A moment later, Alexander hurried into the office, closing the door behind him. "Samuel."
"What the hell is going on?" Samuel asked, looking very displeased. "Have you been drinking too much lately, selling rat poison as life-saving drugs?"
Alexander stood across the desk, not responding.
Samuel suddenly slammed the table. "Speak up. What happened?"
"Honestly, I don't know yet," Alexander replied, frowning. "I just heard about this."
"Before I came back, someone from the police department called me personally, informing me that this case is related to the fugitive Benjamin, so it's being handled directly by the criminal investigation department," Samuel said, "After hearing this, I immediately asked around and found out that the goods in Benjamin's warehouse have been confiscated and are being examined."
Alexander was stunned.
"Still don't get it?" Samuel asked, glaring.
"I get it." Alexander nodded immediately. "The Patrick family did this."
"I can understand the Patrick family doing this," Samuel said, standing up and shouting angrily, "But I can't understand why fake goods would be released if the Anderson family was guarding them. What the hell is Benjamin doing? Does he have a death wish?"
Alexander was also puzzled, not understanding how the Patrick family could have tampered with the Anderson family's goods.
"The police have taken the two deceased back to the police hospital," Samuel said, pointing at Alexander. "If their cause of death matches the confiscated drugs, do you know what that means?"
Alexander broke into a cold sweat.
"It means the Anderson family's reputation will be ruined, and they won't be able to sell a single box of goods," Samuel said, glaring at Alexander. "Many people know we're backing the Anderson family. If their reputation is ruined, think about what that means for us."
Alexander immediately responded, "I'll go to the Anderson family right away."
"Keep it confidential, and don't let anyone know," Samuel instructed.
"Got it." Alexander nodded and left.
Two minutes later.
The phone rang in the office, and Samuel quickly answered, "Hello?"
"This is serious; the other side is prepared," a friend on the phone said concisely, "Andrew has been hanging out with Robert a lot lately. Be careful they don't frame you."
Samuel thought for a moment and quickly distanced himself. "Andrew has many drinking buddies; he doesn't represent me. Besides, I have no contact with the Anderson family."
"Take a stance. If the Anderson family falls, don't let it affect you," the friend advised.
"Understood." Samuel nodded.
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