Chapter 947: Everything Requires Evidence

By the time the two of them were dragged onto the other car, their drunkenness had completely worn off.

The first time they had woken up was when the police had rushed into their friend's room and had dragged them out of bed.

When they had seen more than a dozen police officers surrounding them, the hearts of the two had instantly turned cold, and they had also known that they were finished.

They weren't sure if it was their friend's betrayal, nor did they know what kind of situation they were about to face, but they knew that they were finished!

Although murder was a serious crime in Rapa, this serious crime had a premise—to be able to catch the murderer.

If you can catch the murderer, then murder is a serious crime. If you can't, then it's not.

Without a doubt, they were now in the category of a serious crime.

At this moment, they were filled with regret for what they had done, and had even shed tears of regret.

It wasn't that they had realized what they had done wrong, but that they were just a little scared, scared of death, and the unknown punishment.

The moment they had been, with their heads pressed down, stuffed into the police car, the sky had already completely darkened.

If, up to this point, the wine they had drunk had only woken them up by half, then when the car they were in had, after a violent impact, stopped, and when they had seen several foreigners walk to the side of the car and had directly pulled the trigger on the two police officers in the front, their drunkenness had completely worn off!

At first, the bullets had just shattered their bones, their flesh.

The bullets that followed had caused the flesh and blood to start to splash, splashing everywhere.

They had screamed in terror, and had even peed themselves.

When the two had been dragged out of the car like dead dogs, their drunkenness had completely worn off, and the sky had completely darkened.

If someone had told them before that no matter how much you drank, until you were dead drunk, it was possible to make you completely sober in a very short time, they would definitely not have believed it.

There was also a high probability that they would have thought that the person who had said so was bragging, but now, they believed it.

Because they were really awake. There was no sleepiness, no drunkenness at all!

Not a single bit!

Not only that, but they had also burst into tears, and had even, uncontrollably, peed themselves.

They did not dare to speak, and had curled up in the car seat, letting these people take them outside the city.

They had come to a very special area. As people of Zhuolan, they didn't even know that this place existed.

It was on the edge of the city. It looked like all the buildings were brand new. There were also people standing guard here, holding weapons in their hands.

They had been brought in, and then the car had stopped. The car door had been opened.

The two of them had been, by their hair, dragged out of the car. Among them, the two young men who had been sitting in the front seat, after they had dragged them down, had begun to attack them.

An inhuman attack.

They had, without any regard for whether the two were dead or alive, fiercely kicked their bodies with their feet. While kicking, they had also been cursing.

"That'll teach you to piss in the car..."

"Fuck!"

One of them, the slightly stronger one, already had several cuts on his head, and his face was covered in blood.

He was holding his head and was lying on the ground, begging. At this time, their hearts were in the extreme of fear!

The next second, the person who was beating him had grabbed his hair. Amidst his screams, which were almost at the point of breaking his throat, he had torn off a piece of his scalp, but soon he had changed to another piece and had grabbed it, and had dragged him to the side of the car, and had pointed at the patch on the car, which was clearly exuding a foul smell of urine, and had said, "Lick it clean!"

The slightly stronger guy had not immediately done as he was told, and then the person behind him had drawn a handgun from his waist, had released the safety, and had pulled the slide.

The young man had immediately raised his hands and had cried out, "I'll lick it now!"

The person behind him had cursed "fuck," and then had straightened his attire.

He was so angry!

He liked this car very much, but two bastards had actually pissed in his car. He was so angry he had exploded!

Perhaps seeing that the other party had really licked it a few times, his anger had subsided, and only then had he snorted coldly. "You two, follow me..."

This was the land that Lance had bought. He had built some buildings here, all of which were made of federal steel-structured prefabricated parts.

They were transported over, spliced together, welded, and then simply decorated, and it was a building. The construction speed was very fast.

Lance stood behind the window on the top floor, watching everything that was happening in the parking lot. He said to Hiram without turning his head, "Your subordinates have a temper as bad as yours!"

Hiram blew at his hair, his face full of a triumphant look. "This shows that our temperaments are very compatible!"

He paused for a moment. "And then?"

"What are we going to do?"

Lance did not look at him, but just continued to look at the parking lot downstairs. After the group of people had entered the house, his gaze had then turned to the city in the distance.

A clean city.

Here, it referred to its air condition. There was no industrial pollution. At any time, when you stood on a high place and looked at this city, it was very clearly visible.

Large swaths of slums were surrounding a prosperous city center, and also the rich district in the southern part.

It was hard to imagine that in this place where a person's monthly income was less than five Federal Sols, there was actually a golf course that was comparable to the best in the Federation, and also a heated swimming pool, a tennis court, a basketball court, all kinds of sports facilities.

Those rich people were, on the sports field, dripping with sweat, and sighing at the dullness and boredom of life. But just less than a kilometer away from them, a large group of people were, in a river full of garbage, looking for some of the garbage that had been washed down from the "upper city," which could be exchanged for money.

What was garbage to those rich people, for those poor people, might be valuable things.

There were many people who made a living from this. They, without any protection, would stand in the sewage river, looking for the things that could bring him, and his family, a little living expenses.

"For these people to be able to endure until today and not to do anything, is something I had not expected."

"And this just proves that no matter who is the ruler, as long as they are not forced to a dead end, the rule will be stable."

"Most of the Yalan region is like this. Do you know what it makes me think of?"

Only then did he turn his head and glance at Hiram. Hiram shook his head. "I don't know."

Then Lance had turned his head to the side to look at the people in the back who were either sitting or standing. "What about you?"

They all shook their heads, not knowing.

Lance had once again looked at this city under the azure blue sky, and also at the jungle in the distance, the distant mountains, everything.

"I thought of God's pasture, and the gentle lambs in it!"

His gaze soon fell on the limit of his vision in the distance. Some police cars were, one after another, driving towards this side.

"And some wild dogs."

The one who had come was the police chief. When he had heard that the person had been hijacked, he had, at the first opportunity, mobilized a group of people with weapons and had gone to the hotel.

But the hotel had said that Lance and his group had not been resting in the hotel for several days. Then they had driven towards this piece of land that Lance had bought.

Along the way, he had not said a word. The atmosphere in the police car was very silent.

The mayor, after he had heard that the person had been caught, but had been lost again, had directly hung up the phone.

What does this mean?

It means that at the very least, the mayor has already sentenced him to death!

He doesn't want to die.

And he doesn't want to be in trouble. He just wants to, like any day in the past, to come to work safely, and then to go home safely, or to go out to socialize, and to constantly repeat this day.

Not like now.

He seemed to have already made a certain decision, a certain determination. He had, with that desperate and fervent determination, come here.

Lance had not seen the two culprits. For him, these two were not any important characters, and were not yet at the level where he needed to see them personally.

They were just, by a bit of bad luck, in a terrible incident, and had played an unlucky role, that was all.

They were important, but not that important.

What was important was their whereabouts, and what was not important, was their lives.

Seven or eight minutes later, six police cars had arrived outside Lance's territory. They had been stopped at the main gate.

Originally, the police chief had planned to force his way in, but when he had seen that the people here were basically either holding submachine guns, or were carrying rifles, he had felt that in fact, it was not necessary to force his way in. They could totally negotiate.

He had wanted to meet with Lance. Lance had decided to give him this chance, but only him alone, and at most one more person.

The police chief had chosen a subordinate whom he thought was worthy of his trust. The two had handed over their weapons, and after a strict body search, they had been allowed to pass.

They had been here before. This place was just a wasteland on the outskirts of the city. It had only been bought by Lance last year, and it was said that he was going to build a manor here.

But now, looking at this building, which was only nine stories, but whose overall height was probably higher than an ordinary ten-plus-story building, in the chief's mind, he could not find any connection with the word "manor."

From the moment he had entered the main hall, he had felt another kind of splendor. The two, under the guidance of a member of the Lance Family, had entered the elevator, and had soon arrived at the top floor, and had seen Lance.

"Sit," Lance turned his head, looking at him.

At this moment, everything that the police chief had seen, the visual impact was very strong.

The entire city, including the tiny Presidential Palace in the distance, had all, at this time, become Lance's background. He was a little dazed. In his daze, he had seemed to have seen the future of this city, of this country.

It was all under his feet!

It was not until his trusted subordinate, whom he had brought with him, had lightly touched him, that he had come back to his senses.

The determination that he had just made in his heart, at this moment, for some reason, had somewhat disintegrated.

Just as he had, in a very short time, made a decision, he had, in a very short time, untied himself.

His waist was, in an instant, not so straight, and then he had nodded, and had walked to the side of the sofa and had sat down.

Lance liked floor-to-ceiling windows. He liked the feeling of standing by the window and looking down at the whole city. This gave him a very special sense of control, as if the whole city was just a toy of his.

He had walked to the side of his desk, had picked up the ivory cigarette case that was on the desk, and had drawn out a cigarette.

The person who was standing by his side had immediately lit the cigarette for him. Everything had happened naturally, without a trace of a deliberate feeling.

He had taken a puff of his cigarette, and had looked at the police chief. "They told me that you were very insistent on seeing me downstairs."

"Now you have seen me. Why do you have nothing to say?"

Lance's words had made the police chief react. He had clenched his fists, and then had looked up at Lance. "Mr. White, can you return those two people to me?"

He had not mentioned the matter of a police chief being killed.

A police chief, that's all. If he could use the death of a police chief in exchange for this matter to be resolved in the way everyone wanted, then let alone one police chief dying, even if two, three, five, or even ten had died, for the gentlemen who lived in the rich district, it would all be acceptable.

It's just a police chief. If they just point at someone, won't there be another one?

In the end, they are still the bottom of society, the pariahs. No matter how many of them die, it won't make them annoyed.

Lance shook his head. He walked to the side of the sofa and sat down. "On what basis do you say that those two people are with me?"

The police chief had opened his mouth. After two or three seconds, he had finally said, "The eyewitnesses said they saw... it was..." he had turned his head and had glanced at the people who were standing around the room, "it was people who were dressed like you."

Lance shook his head again. "It's just that the clothes are the same."

"If I wear a police uniform, can I say that I am a police officer?"

"Someone is wearing the same clothes as them. It doesn't necessarily mean that they are also our people."

Lance's smile was very gentle, as if he couldn't detect that the police chief, at this very moment, was on the opposite side of him. "You see, you are the police chief, and you represent the executor of justice. To a certain extent, you represent justice itself."

"But the more it is so, the more you should be careful."

"Behind the power is the responsibility!"

"If you have no evidence, you can't, just because of the power in your hands that does not belong to you, to wantonly trample on the rules."

"You think those people are my men? It's very simple!" he had taken a puff of his cigarette, and had slowly exhaled, "Show me the evidence."

"If you have evidence, you say who it is, and I'll have them come here."

"If you don't have evidence..." a few more smiles had appeared on Lance's face, "you know, I'm not the same as those other foreigners."

"If they have been treated unfairly, they might, in order not to cause more trouble, choose to shut up. But I am not that kind of person."

"You will have to pay the price for what you have done, Mr. Chief."

"So I'll give you a well-intentioned reminder..." he had, with the hand that was holding the cigarette, pointed at the police chief, "...before you are really ready to be shattered, to be careful, to be cautious, is what you should do."

He had smiled after he had finished speaking. "I hope these words will be useful to you."

"So now, do you have any other questions?"

The police chief sat there. He did not speak, but just sat quietly. After a long while, he seemed to have finally recovered.

"Mr. White, do you know that if things continue to develop like this, it is possible that... many people will be killed or injured?"

Lance had raised his eyebrows and had looked at him. "So?"

A simple "so," had made the police chief a little unsure of how to answer this question.

Before he could answer, Lance had answered for him, "Anyway, in your eyes, the low-level people are no different from animals, are they?"

"Since when, did you actually start to cherish the lives of the ordinary people?"

He had laughed. "This may not be the funniest joke this year, but it is the funniest joke today!"

"Alright, Mr. Chief, if there is nothing else, and you can't produce any evidence, then you should go and find those people, instead of being here and telling me these."

"I can't help you."

He had stood up, and had, from a high position, looked down at the police chief and his assistant. His eyes were filled with indifference, and also a kind of an indescribable something, of looking down on them.

He had shaken his head, had turned and had walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and at the same time, had said, "See them out."

He didn't even need Hiram to act. Two of the combat captains had walked to the side of the sofa. "Please!"

"Mr. Chief."

The police chief had slowly stood up. He had looked at Lance's back and had stared for a moment, for about a few seconds, and then had turned and had left without looking back.

After he had come out of this building, his expression had already returned to calm. His trusted subordinate by his side couldn't help but say, "It was clearly them who did it!"

The police chief had said "hmm." "But they want evidence now."

A simple piece of evidence had stumped them.

In the past, they had never talked about such a thing as evidence. If they had felt that a certain person was a suspect, then they would have sent out the police to arrest this person, and then to take measures.

Very primitive measures, which were to beat, to torture, to force them to admit to the crimes they had not committed, and then in the end, to "bring them to justice."

In Rapa, there was actually a very interesting phenomenon.

In some of the more important cities, for example, a capital city like Zhuolan, the case-solving rate was 100%.

In other words, they had not let any criminal go unpunished. All the cases had been solved. Of course, here we are talking about criminal cases.

As for some of the cases that had not yet constituted a criminal case, they were not in this record.

But as long as it was a criminal case, it had reached a 100% case-solving rate.

They had never been asked to show evidence, until this moment.

His trusted subordinate was also at a loss for words, and did not know how to continue, "Evidence, where to get the evidence?"

A witness?

Which eyewitness would dare to point at this group of foreigners of Lance's?

They are the ones who dared to shoot and kill a police officer in the street!

To find some people to pretend to be witnesses?

This trick might be useful against the people of Rapa, but it's not very useful against these foreigners, and it's also not of much significance.

By the time they can confirm this, and to do it, they will have already missed the 24-hour ultimatum.

It was not until this moment that he had finally realized that he was actually no different from the ordinary people in this city who were struggling to survive, the pariahs in his eyes.

When the "great trend" had hit, he didn't even have the ability to resist. He would be knocked over by the great trend, and then would sink into the water, and then would become a part of the drifting.

This damn world!

He had returned to the side of the police car, had glanced at the police chiefs and officers around him, and had shouted with a cold face, "Get in the car, let's go back!"