Chapter 61: Gang War and a Gift

By the time Roger walked out of Mrs. Luoyide's house, he had a general understanding of the so-called soil theft.

According to the nanny, Mrs. Luoyide had first noticed the soil missing a month ago.

Since retiring, she had become obsessed with cultivating her own garden, and nearly all the vibrant, brilliant flowers in the yard were planted by her own hands.

But recently, she was diagnosed with a series of age-related illnesses and is currently undergoing treatment, so she entrusted the yard to the nanny for maintenance.

Yet a month ago, Mrs. Luoyide suddenly claimed the garden's soil had been stolen, and insisted with great seriousness that it decreased by two ounces every day.

Two ounces? Goodness, it wouldn't even fill half a cup! In a flowerpot, it's just a thin layer.

How could anyone possibly determine that precisely with just their eyes?

So the nanny paid no attention to it; even her son and daughter-in-law believed it was just Mrs. Luoyide's memory loss flaring up.

But Mrs. Luoyide stubbornly held to her view, insisting the soil kept diminishing, and accused others of being blind for not noticing.

To prove herself, she began calling reporters and police every day, urging them to come and investigate carefully.

At first, the police were quite enthusiastic, since in Meilijian, police performance evaluations prioritized arrest rates over case resolution rates.

That's also why Meilijian police always prefer to arrest people first, no matter how trivial the matter—because arrests mean performance points, and performance points mean bonuses.

Whereas putting in the effort to fully solve a case only earns a basic monthly salary.

Anyone would choose the more efficient way to make money.

As a result, detention centers are often overcrowded; suspects are locked up and often wait several days before getting a chance at bail.

By then, their jobs are already gone.

No job means no income. No income means they can't pay their mortgage or car loan. Can't pay the loan, and the bank repossesses and auctions off the house and car.

It's a death spiral.

That's why those arrested always resist a little—because resisting might still spare them, but if they don't resist, their 'life' is already dead.

So after Mrs. Luoyide wasted police resources several times without uncovering any leads, the police stopped responding to her.

Every time she called, they'd just give her vague, dismissive replies.

But to Mrs. Luoyide, this treatment felt like a lack of trust in her.

Her mental state deteriorated further, and her temper grew worse. During her recent medical visit, doctors directly diagnosed her with severe delusional disorder.

A pitiable person must have something hateful about them; conversely, a hateful person must have something pitiable about them.

Facing this lonely, elderly woman on the brink of mental collapse, Roger suddenly felt his earlier ordeal wasn't such a big deal.

Because he knew Mrs. Luoyide was telling the truth—the intelligence system confirmed it.

"Then how should I investigate?"

Roger found the matter tricky; as a non-resident, he couldn't move freely like he did in Xin Yidunweier Shequ.

Just the patrol officers would be enough to give him trouble.

If he entered too frequently, he might get arrested and interrogated at the station.

Sitting in the car for a moment, he decided he still needed Vanessa's help.

……

"158, 159, 160... huff!" After finishing his workout and setting down the dumbbells, the man jumped lightly to relax his body.

【Physical Function: 10.7→10.8】

The system issued a real-time alert.

"That felt great."

Roger picked up a towel and wiped his body; just as he was about to put on his clothes, footsteps suddenly sounded outside the garage.

"Open up, it's me."

It was a slightly familiar male voice.

Roger opened the garage door and found standing there none other than the curly-haired Black man—Robbie of the Crips, the guy Fiona had nursed when he was two years old.

"What's up? What do you want?"

Roger raised an eyebrow, looking at Robbie and the two henchmen behind him.

"I came to warn you," Robbie said seriously: "Don't go out at night recently, and protect Fiona and the others for me."

"What?" Roger frowned: "What do you mean?"

"You don't need to know why. Just remember it."

Robbie turned to leave.

But Roger called out: "Wait, buddy. Are you the Riddler from Gotham? Speak plainly, or I won't warn Mrs. Fiona."

He hated people who didn't speak clearly.

Hearing this, Robbie turned sharply, grabbed Roger's shoulder: "Listen—the Mexican Gang is at war with us. If you don't want to get caught in the crossfire, stay indoors. Got it?"

"Alright, got it."

Robbie nodded and walked away.

Roger's expression grew grim: "Looks like I need to be careful in the coming days."

Even though his physical condition surpassed ordinary people, under gun barrels all are equal—better to avoid conflict whenever possible.

Just as he returned to the garage, the door was knocked again.

"Robbie, what else?" Roger opened the door and found Natasha standing there.

The girl wore a black tank top with a skull print, paired with black shorts and sneakers, radiating energetic vitality.

Her hands were behind her back, her face full of curiosity:

"Did Robbie just come by?"

"Yes."

"What did he want? Did he want you to join the gang?" Natasha asked, intrigued.

"You'll know in a bit."

Roger planned to bring up the matter at the dinner table.

Natasha's eyes swept once around the garage, then she suddenly asked:

"Roger, have you been looking for a place these past few days?"

Roger spread his hands in surprise. "How could I possibly have the money to rent a place!"

"Really?" Natasha narrowed her eyes. Seeing the man's expression unchanged, she then broke into a bright smile. "Fine, then this is for you."

She brought her hands out from behind her back and handed a fluffy pillow to Roger.

"This is…" Roger was a little surprised.

The little girl huffed lightly. "You've been sleeping on that old pillow every day—doesn't it bother you? Now you can switch to a new one."

Roger took the pillow, a little touched.

"Thank you…"

"Don't thank me!" Unexpectedly, Natasha suddenly bristled like a kitten with its fur standing on end and retorted, "I bought this with the money you gave me, so you don't need to thank me—and besides, we're family now."

"Uh, you've got a point." Roger reached out and rubbed her head. "Then I'll accept it."

"Hmph."

Natasha stretched out a foot and gave the man a light kick. "Let's go, Fiona made something good today."

"What did she make?"

"Chocolate pineapple cookie pie."

"Are you sure you're not joking? Those three are one dish?"

"Of course, that's how we all eat it. There's also a lot of frosting and jam inside."

Thinking of the white-person meals in his memory, Roger suddenly felt his blood sugar getting a little unstable.

"Can I eat a little less?"

"Don't even think about running. You have to eat a whole piece today!"

After a while, the two of them, bickering and play-fighting, gradually disappeared past the doorway.

Early the next morning.

Roger, who had slept soundly after switching to the new pillow, woke up and immediately called Vanessa, arranging a time to meet.

Upon hearing he had another news lead, the female reporter agreed without a second word and drove her black Mercedes over.

The two met downstairs from the Seattle Times building, after which Roger got into her car.

"Why are you dressed so formal today? You don't even look like yourself." Vanessa was very surprised when she saw the man in a checkered shirt and wearing a pair of glasses.

Roger didn't mention that he had put on a bit of Camouflage, only saying, "There are a lot of cops in Yushujie Shequ. I don't want them watching me."

"I've heard of that community—it's a well-known middle-class community in Seattle. What kind of lead there has you so interested?"

Vanessa was wearing a light-gray shirt paired with a pencil skirt and black pantyhose today, with glasses on her face as well, looking both intellectual and sexy. Especially when she leaned her back against the seat, her curves became even more alluring.

Hearing her question, Roger immediately told her his guess.