Chapter 673 The Great Reshuffle
Scarface responded with a quick "Got it," and started directing his men to clean up the scene.
Michael walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the busy port and the cargo ships coming and going. The businesses he once took pride in now felt like heavy chains, suffocating him.
He pulled out a faded red string from his pocket and gently wrapped it around his finger.
"Celeste," he whispered to the wind outside the window, "they say you're gone, but I still feel you're here. Look, I'm cleaning up the mess for you. Just wait for me, okay?"
The wind swept through the empty living room, lifting the unburned cigarette butts from the floor, like a silent sigh.
Three days later, Sunterra's largest underground market abruptly shut down, all gray-market goods at the port were destroyed, and the once-dominant Auris Group announced its transformation, with all illegal activities vanishing overnight.
Some said Michael had gone mad, others claimed he was scared off by his enemies. Only Michael knew he just wanted to finish what needed to be done quickly, then go find the girl who had waited for him for so many years.
He stood before Celeste's gravestone, burning a share transfer document for her. The flames licked the paper, reflecting the dead look in his eyes.
"I've donated all the businesses. No one will bleed over these things anymore." He watched the ashes scatter in the wind. "You once said you wanted to go back to Dreamscape Peak to see the ocean. I'll take you back."
He bent down and tied the red string to the gravestone, then slowly stood up and bowed deeply to the stone.
As he turned, Scarface handed him a gun. "Michael, the northern forces won't back down. They want revenge for their fallen men and have already surrounded us."
"Perfect, saves me the trouble of finding them." Michael took the gun, weighed it in his hand, and suddenly smiled. "I need you to do one last thing for me. Once it's done, you're free."
"Michael, my life is yours. I'll always be your man."
Michael gave a bitter smile. Celeste had said something similar once, and now Scarface was saying it too.
What had he done to deserve this?
Three days later, Scarface slammed a document down in front of Michael. The photo showed a sniper in camouflage, half his face hidden behind the scope, but the crescent-shaped scar on his hand was unmistakable—the mark of the Gutierrez Gang.
"It's Kirk's man," Scarface growled. "We found this in the sniper's safe house. It's an assassination order signed by Kirk himself."
The memory flashed back to a few days ago.
Michael had clearly warned Kirk not to touch his people. Kirk had laughed sinisterly, holding his wine glass, saying, "Michael's people? I wouldn't dare." But it turned out he had never intended to spare her.
"Michael, should we take down the Gutierrez Gang's base now?" Scarface clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "Kirk's been expanding his casino and arms business in the north, thanks to his connections with the police chief. It's time we took him down!"
Michael silently lit a cigarette.
Through the smoke, he looked at Celeste's photo on the table. The red string on her wrist stood out vividly in the old picture. If he used the most brutal methods to wipe out the Gutierrez Gang, would Celeste be happy? She had urged him to "stop" before she died. She never wanted violence to be met with more violence.
"No need," Michael said, putting out the cigarette, a steely glint in his eyes. "Send all the evidence we've got on the Gutierrez Gang to Interpol anonymously. And tell the trust fund to donate all profits from Auris Group's legit businesses in Sunterra to anti-crime organizations."
Scarface looked shocked. "Michael? What about us..."
"Us?" Michael's smile was cold. "It's time for us to step back."
He didn't want bloody revenge. He wanted Kirk to be taken down in broad daylight, for the crimes hidden in the shadows to be fully exposed. This was the peace Celeste truly wanted.
Half a month later, Interpol launched a sudden raid on Sunterra's northern district. The Gutierrez Gang's casinos, armories, and underground banks were wiped out. The police chief was suspended for bribery, and Kirk was caught trying to flee the country. Three crates of unregistered arms and a ledger of international transactions were found on his private plane.
In the interrogation room, Kirk glared at Michael through the one-way glass, screaming, "Michael! You traitor! Using such low tactics to get me, what kind of man are you?"
Michael ignored him, turning to the Interpol officer beside him with a slight nod. "The rest is up to you."
The officer handed him a document. "Mr. Russell, based on the evidence you provided, all core members of the Gutierrez Gang, except Oscar, have been arrested, and their operations have been completely dismantled. Additionally, this is your reward for the information, and..." He paused, his tone complex, "Interpol has decided not to pursue your past illegal activities, provided you permanently leave Sunterra."
Michael took the document but pushed the reward money back. "Donate it to the victim relief fund."
As he walked out of the police station, the sun was shining brightly. Scarface was waiting by the roadside, quickly opening the car door when he saw Michael. "Michael, where to now?"
Michael looked up at the sky. Sunterra's sky was a deep blue, much like the ocean at Dreamscape Peak. He took out the red string from his pocket and gently tied it around his wrist.
"To the airport." He got into the car, his voice calm and steady. "Back to Lakeside Haven, Dreamscape Peak."
Scarface paused, then nodded firmly. "Got it!"
As the car left the city, the radio was broadcasting the news: "Following the Gutierrez Gang's downfall, Sunterra's crime rate has dropped by 72% compared to last month. Citizens are taking to the streets to celebrate..."
Michael watched the passing scenery outside the window. The corners once shrouded by gray-market activities now glowed with the light of everyday life. He could almost see Celeste standing among the crowd, her ponytail blowing in the wind, smiling at him. "Michael, see, isn't this better?"
He closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek, landing on the red string on his wrist like a belated star of redemption.
Perhaps he could never fully atone for his debt to Celeste, but he had preserved the peace she had wanted in the way she had hoped.
Dreamscape Peak's ocean was still waiting for him.
Lakeside Haven had seen three days of rain. Emma stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the news on her phone: the Gutierrez Gang had been destroyed, and Kirk had been killed while resisting arrest.
In the living room, George was peeling apples for Seraphine and Lucas, the sound of the knife slicing through the peel particularly clear amidst the rain. Oscar sat in a single armchair, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his coffee cup, the steam from the cup blurring his features.
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