Chapter 2561

Gordon's expression suddenly became inscrutable. He sat back down, looked at Shiler, and said, "Professor Shiler, since Officer Clay is accusing you of attacking him, I think you might need to cooperate with the investigation."

"I would be very happy to," Shiler nodded and said, "However, I have classes tomorrow. You cannot occupy my working hours, otherwise, I won't be able to explain to the Dean's office why I was absent."

Gordon nodded. Shiler stood up first, lowered his eyes to look at Clay lying on the hospital bed, and said, "It seems this officer has a deep misunderstanding of me. I hope the Cat Getan Police Department can help me clear up the misunderstanding between us."

"Actually, you don't need to worry too much, Commissioner," Shiler looked at Gordon gently and said, "I am a psychology professor. I have seen many victims who have experienced such major cases suffer from the same post-traumatic stress disorder, and I am very happy to provide them with help."

Gordon reached out and shook hands with Shiler, saying, "Thank you for your generosity, Professor. Sorry for the trouble."

After Shiler and the other two left, Gordon sat down with an unreadable expression. Clay was very agitated, even trembling all over. He said to Gordon, "The murderer is clearly right in front of you, why won't you arrest him?! I know who attacked me, I am not lying."

"Perhaps Shiler did attack you," unexpectedly, Gordon did not continue to argue, but said, "Based on my understanding of him, it is also highly likely that he attacked you."

"Then why don't you arrest him?"

Gordon put down the water cup in his hand, looked at Clay, and said, "Do you think I have the ability to arrest him?"

"Isn't it possible? You all have guns, and he is even here right now."

Gordon shook his head and said, "We can indeed point our guns at his head and arrest Shiler Rodriguez, but how are we supposed to arrest a professor at Cat Getan University and a world-renowned psychologist?"

Clay stared blankly at Gordon, thinking he was talking nonsense.

"I will emphasize this to you one last time, Mr. Clay. Being a police officer is not as simple as you think. The weight of the evidence determines how high-status a person we can arrest."

"Your testimony might allow us to arrest a small-time thug, but not a scholar, and certainly not a well-known scholar. You need more evidence to convince me, and also to convince the media and the public."

"But the facts are right in front of us, why can't..."

"Because right now, your suspicion is just suspicion," Gordon said. "In a situation where such suspicion is not supported by any substantive evidence, it cannot affect his status or position in the slightest."

"Don't even talk about arrest; unless there is surveillance footage of him committing murder, it will be very difficult to even get a search warrant approved."

"Then why can't we find evidence first..."

"Didn't you go look? Did you find any?"

Clay was choked for words.

This was a vicious cycle, and everyone present understood that if you want to investigate such a big figure, you must have evidence, but without evidence, they won't accept your investigation.

But Clay didn't believe it. He thought that for Gordon to become Commissioner in a city like this, he must have dealt with countless big figures, and in his career, he must have brought down many people like Shiler.

He could do it back then, so why can't he now? Isn't this just favoritism?

Clay indignantly pointed this out, but Gordon said with a slightly contemptuous look, "I went to great lengths, even risking my life, to bring those big figures down for the sake of justice."

"Isn't it the same now? Isn't it evil for him to kill people wantonly?"

"If you were walking down the street and were suddenly knocked unconscious by him, sewn into human skin, and dumped in the center of the police station lobby, I wouldn't be wasting my breath with you here; I would immediately choose to arrest him. But when I asked you about the crime scene, how did you answer?"

Clay opened his mouth to speak, but the words were quickly stuck in his throat. He remembered how he had answered; he said the crime scene was at the Rodriguez Manor.

Shiler had knocked him unconscious at the Rodriguez Manor.

Then why was he at the Rodriguez Manor?

"It is you who made it impossible for me to uphold justice," Gordon said. "A police officer driving a police car into someone's home and ransacking the place—it's a miracle he didn't shoot you dead."

"If I were to arrest him with great fanfare now because of the injuries you sustained, because of his status and position, this matter would definitely make the headlines. Once the follow-up reports come out, if he tells the media about your actions, the entire Cat Getan Police Department will be mired in accusations of police brutality because of you."

Gordon looked away, his expression dark, and said, "I don't care if you're impulsive; there are plenty of impulsive people here. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have been able to bring down so many big figures. Your only mistake is that you were too stupid; you rushed in, but didn't find any evidence."

After saying this, he got up and left the room. The other police officers also wandered off, but Bullock sat down by the hospital bed, calm and collected, and lit a cigarette for himself.

"Justice and common sense are sometimes the same thing, and sometimes they conflict with each other. It's strange, isn't it?"

"It was clearly Shiler who killed people, sewed you into human skin, and hung you directly in the police station. From the perspective of justice, he is simply evil to the core."

Clay's face was livid, but Bullock's words eased his emotions slightly.

"But from the perspective of common sense, you are a police officer who violated the law and trespassed on private property, while he is a diligent, world-renowned psychology expert. The public won't be on your side."

"That's because the public doesn't know what he did!"

Bullock smiled and said, "James is right. As long as you have evidence to prove what he did, Gordon would dare to arrest anyone."

"But since you don't, both sides are just making claims. It's a contest of who has more influence. Do you think you can win against Professor Rodriguez?"

"... Yes, I have to leave by five o'clock in the afternoon. I still have to tidy up the house to host the housewarming party I didn't get to hold. Thanks for your concern, ma'am. I had already anticipated getting involved in all sorts of trouble when I started this line of work."

"Hello? Hild? I've read your first draft, but let's change the meeting time to the day after tomorrow. I have to go to the police station for an investigation tomorrow... It's not really a big deal, a police officer who broke into my manor got injured..."

"... Yes, the group meeting is canceled, we'll hold it this Saturday. Remind them to clear an afternoon for it, and don't forget to bring their results. Don't think about trying to fool me with last week's work."

"Hello? Victor? Has the principal returned yet? How is the renovation of the new school building going?... I won't go to visit, I've been too busy lately. Yes, I'm going to the police station tomorrow afternoon..."

Shiler made several phone calls in a row. He put down his phone, shook his somewhat stiff neck, and saw a dark shadow poking its head around in the backyard.

Shiler opened the back door and found it was Martin. He beckoned to Martin, and Martin nimbly climbed over the backyard wall.

He pulled a party mask with feathers from behind his back, put it on his face, made a funny expression, and then handed it to Shiler, saying, "Just consider it my early gift for your housewarming party."

"I thought that crystal ball was the gift."

Martin smiled and said, "Of course not, that's a curse."

"Where did you get it from?"

"Family tradition. Ahem, my mother was a witch, and our whole family believes in the Ancestor God, so I know a thing or two about this."

Shiler took him into the house, opened the drawer of the broken refrigerator's freezer, handed the top two drawers to Martin, and took the bottom drawer himself.

The two of them crossed the backyard door again and arrived near the large pit. Shiler threw the drawer, along with the red things inside, into the pit.

"It's a pity about such a good refrigerator," Martin said, and then threw both drawers in as well. The drawers were overturned, and the red things inside fell out—they were unmistakably human limbs that had lost their skin.

"I'll go buy a new one tomorrow," Shiler said. "Actually, I wanted to move the one from the manor over here, but it's too big, and the decor style doesn't match."

"You have such great taste, sir," Martin sighed from the bottom of his heart. "I never expected the final product to have that effect. I believe the Ancestor God will be very happy when he sees it."

He took out the crystal ball, which now had energy again. He held the crystal ball up to his eyes and tapped it gently. Shiler heard a sound like the wind.

"Don't actually summon some god here," Shiler said. "The refrigerator is broken now, there's nowhere to put it."

Martin put away the crystal ball and said, "Thank you so much. That group of drug dealers had been watching me for a long time. I live in a busy downtown area, so I really had no way to offer them all to the Ancestor God. It's different with you here."

Shiler walked to the sink to wash his hands, then used the hand towel nearby to dry them while saying, "Let's talk about your connection with the Penitent Cartel. I mean, with the revolutionary army."

Martin revealed a sarcastic smile and said, "That would be the old revolutionary army. I have nothing to do with this bunch of idiots now."

The two of them walked to the sofa and sat down. Martin slumped comfortably into the chair and said, "It's so good to be rich. When I have money, I'm going to buy a villa this big too."

Shiler said nothing. After he finished sighing, Martin yawned and said, "It's nothing complicated. My father was originally a fisherman who knew how to repair boats and cars. After coming to Guazhou, he was quite capable. Our family had a very large piece of land in the village, which we had been using to grow poppies for those drug dealers."

"The people who hired us before were local bosses. Although they were a bit stingy, they were pretty good to our family. After all, my dad had technical skills, and by maintaining a good relationship with our family, they could maintain a good relationship with the villagers."

"The share from the poppy harvest wasn't much, but this stuff definitely made more money than food. My family's life used to be pretty good."

"But suddenly one day, that drug trafficking organization called the Penitent Cartel, probably to expand their territory or seize plantations, killed our original boss."

"At that time, my dad was very ill and couldn't stop them. Not long after, he passed away. My mother, the villagers, and I started working for the Penitent Cartel."

"This bunch of guys were not only stingy but also particularly vicious; they didn't give anyone a good look. The villagers were all fed up with them. We weren't just farmers who would honestly let them bully us."

"The villagers got some guns, took out the cars and weapons the old boss had hidden, and had a fight with them. I wasn't young anymore at that time, so I went up to help, and we finally drove them all away. We started doing it ourselves."

"Business was going pretty well. My mother took me to the city, where I studied, preparing to use my dad's old friend's connections to go to the United States to work when I got a bit older."

"Who knew we would run into the damn Penitent Cartel in the city again. This time, without the villagers' help, my mother and I were outnumbered and were chased home by them."

"My mother was shot dead by them, and I ran away. But I knew my mother wouldn't let them off like that; she had the power of the Ancestor God in her."

"Sure enough, when I returned home, I found a mummified corpse. It was my mother's body. All her blood had been drained, and the statue of the Ancestor God she had been worshipping was shattered."

Martin raised his eyebrows, showing little sadness, only a hint of anger and sarcasm. He said, "She used her own life to curse everyone in this organization. The tattoos on the backs of the Penitent Cartel members are the Ancestor God's death warrants."