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Chapter 504

~10 min read 1,967 words

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

Fu Polin ate a thousand-yuan meal that tasted like chewing wax, wasted three main courses, then stormed out and got in the car in a huff.

The previous Toyota SUV started up immediately, gliding all the way from the parking lot without stopping, forcing the gray-clad man to jog two steps to climb aboard before it accelerated, brazenly tailing behind.

On city roads, hitting 80 kilometers per hour already counted as reckless; the BMW's speed advantage couldn't be shown. The two cars arrived one after another at Fu Polin's temporary apartment. The gray-clad man familiarly hopped out and once again trailed behind Fu Polin.

"You don't mean to go in, do you?" Fu Polin's face was full of sarcasm.

The gray-clad man looked at him woodenly, as if watching an animal in a zoo.

Of course, when the Ogaku people taught them, the vivid parable was watching slaves.

Openly tailing someone until the target has no temper — any merciful gesture belongs to the weak.

Fu Polin hmphed heavily and ducked into the house.

The gray-clad man just stood under the eaves outside the building, the SUV beside him engine-off and parked, looking like he was standing night watch.

Fu Polin looked down from the window and saw squarely a KFC delivery motorcycle bringing a fresh, spicy family bucket…

The cash-on-delivery exchange between the two sides simply made his lungs explode with rage.

He first called the property management, having security come to drive them away while simultaneously calling the police.

Much like the scene at the restaurant, the security guards left upon seeing the Chen Family Martial Arts Hall credentials. The police command center dispatched a patrol car quite quickly; two uniformed officers ignored the SUV downstairs, came straight up to knock, and asked, "Did you call the police?"

"Yes."

"What's the situation?"

Fu Polin recounted it once, furious to the extreme.

The officer holding a notebook seemed quite sympathetic and immediately said, "Li Nian, you go downstairs and take a look. Sir, please state your basic information."

Three minutes later, the questioning continued.

Five minutes later, Fu Polin began impatiently asking, "I'm not a suspect, why do you keep asking me questions?"

"We need to fully understand the case details. Please bring out the property deed for us to see."

"This is a place I'm renting."

"Rental contract."

Fu Polin went to fetch it as told, then stood at the doorway, clearly not wanting to speak further.

The officer didn't care, directly dialing the number on the rental contract and having the landlord come over quickly.

The landlord lived in a suburban house, might have been eating; hearing it was a police inquiry, he agreed at once.

Fu Polin's eyes bulged: "I get it now — you're trying to annoy me to death, right?"

"Mr. Fu, sorry, we're just following procedure."

"What procedure?"

"You're the one who called the police, so of course we have to question the reporter's information."

Fu Polin, anger turning to laughter, said, "I called the police because someone is stalking me."

"Our officers have already gone down to handle it. You look — is the car downstairs still there?"

Fu Polin strode to the window and looked down; sure enough, the previous SUV was gone.

However, he instantly realized: now there's a police officer standing in the open doorway watching him, so why would they need a dedicated tail?

"Snakes and rats in the same nest!" He couldn't help cursing.

"Mr. Fu, watch your words. If you insult state functionaries, we'll have to take you back to the station for persuasion and education." This officer was actually a Martial Arts Hall student, but an in-service student, not the full-time kind from the early period.

Yan Hang hasn't been transferred away from Jiangning, after all.

With the door wide open, after waiting about one hour, Fu Polin's landlord finally rushed over. After a bunch of pointless talk, the officer apologized to Fu Polin: "If you discover any further stalking, definitely report it to us."

The patrol car left with its hazard lights flashing, looking perfectly diligent and responsible.

Half a minute later, the Toyota SUV returned horizontally from the community's rear alley to the building entrance below Fu Polin's unit.

The gray-clad man and the driver left the car as if ventilating it, continuing to eat the leftover family bucket.

Body Technique training consumes enormous calories; junk food that makes you fat is flawless in providing thermal energy.

Fu Polin gazed deeply downward once, then went back to sleep.

He clearly knew that if he called the police, he would get the exact same treatment, and might even have to drag the landlord back for another lecture.

He slept with his head buried for a whole day. Fu Polin got up extra early, resisted the urge to look at the SUV downstairs, and instead hummed a tune while knotting his tie.

He pushed open the door — a swath of gray occupied most of his field of vision.

The good morning mood vanished instantly.

"You didn't sleep? Just guarding my door?" Fu Polin asked coldly.

The student remembered the training points: treat the air as a fence, eyes viewing like watching an animal, not saying a single word.

"What's your name?"

"……"

"Young man, what you're doing is illegal. Your boss or whatever — he's using you as a fall guy."

"……"

"How much is he paying you?" Fu Polin directly pulled out his waist pack, revealing a stack of brand-new red banknotes, consecutive serial numbers!

The Martial Arts Hall student still didn't utter a word.

These tailers were all hand-picked members, every one a Level 6 or above Body Technique Inspection Team member, trained by Ogaku people skilled in assassination. They finally got a mission and were excited inside — not the slightest omission.

Like hitting a stone wall, Fu Polin's excellent social skills also failed to function; depressed, he closed the door, went downstairs, and drove to work.

Silent all the way, he arrived at the office building; the gray clothes stayed in the first-floor hall, rapidly blending into a crowd of Martial Arts Hall students, like fish returning to the sea.

Fu Polin returned to his office with a gloomy face; all he saw were staff members suffering from insufficient sleep, living in fear and trepidation.

"How many people are being watched?" he called Old Yu over to ask.

The latter's wine-lust-money-qi eye bags had practically turned into sleeping bags; with dry lips he said: "Everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Not even the temporary workers were spared. The few cleaning people all handed in their resignations to me today, and the few clerks hired for the audio-visual room too — they don't even want their wages. From now on employees will have to clean, heat fast food, and print documents themselves."

With a loud "Pa!" sound, Fu Polin's palm slammed heavily onto the table; he angrily rebuked: "Lawless!"

"Lawless!" Old Yu habitually echoed, but in his heart he disapproved.

Everyone can lose their temper, but people who can solve problems are few and far between.

Another "Pa!" sound — the Lintao Ornamental Inkstone on the table fell crashing down.

This time Old Yu knew for certain: Fu Polin was out of options.

Alas, after circumcision surgery, there are always various maladaptation symptoms.

Fu Polin waved his hand; Old Yu quietly withdrew from the office.

In the evening, fifty-plus accountants stayed together in the office. They claimed going back to the hotel was too terrifying; better to stay in the office building.

This meant increased overtime pay; Old Yu's persuasion was ineffective, so he stayed too.

The next day, more accountants and lawyers decided to stay inside the office building, enjoying the heating, security, hot water, unmonitored urination, and more colleague love.

Overtime pay flowed out like water; Fu Polin seemed oblivious.

The newly credited 10 million project funds couldn't last long; Old Yu couldn't bear it and performed another circumcision surgery, knocking on the office door and saying: "Boss, we're about to run out of money."

This time, he didn't even use anesthetic.

Fu Polin rested both elbows flat on the tabletop, looking like something out of a fantasy; in a soft, limp tone he said: "I don't have time to pay attention to these small matters right now."

"Boss, money is no small matter." Old Yu looked petty and insignificant, as if he had been castrated by numbers.

Accountants look at ledgers too much; at night they regard sexiness as numbers — castrated or not, it doesn't matter anymore.

Fu Polin let out a low "Hmph," eyes staring straight at the tabletop, as if there were a sexy number there.

Old Yu widened his wine-lust-money-qi bubble eyes, carefully observing Fu Polin, and the papers on the table.

"What's wrong?" Fu Polin suddenly spoke.

"You seem to be hesitating about something? The documents on top?"

"Nonsense. What would I have to hesitate about?" Fu Polin cursed, yet didn't even raise his face, only saying: "Money — I'll apply for more; you go out."

"Oh."

Just as Old Yu's retreating figure was about to disappear, Fu Polin called out again: "Wait, come back."

"Sigh." Old Yu turned back again, like a lively summoned beast.

"Go call the few senior lawyers over for me."

"Yes." The summoned beast trotted off again.

Three minutes later, he brought back 6 of the same kind.

7 summoned beasts stood before Fu Polin, instantly raising the office's utilization rate; gazes full of reverence rekindled the Bank President's lofty ambitions.

"Above has given us new support again." Fu Polin tried to sound high-spirited: "Each of you has a list — all West River Association enterprises, with their loan amounts, loan times, and other information. What we must do now is go separately to each enterprise to do work..."

He paused, letting the lawyers digest the idea, then said: "You must make them hand over all Gold Bonds currently in their possession to us. If they're unwilling, tell them they must repay loans early; I've already obtained the relevant authorization."

"All of them? Repay loans?"

"If they don't comply, force them to death. Any bank's loans can be handled this way; moreover, make them get as many Gold Bonds as possible. I've checked — the West River Association's internal bond trading volume is huge. Everyone, we've reached this step today — there's no way back. Don't care what outside employees think; us..." Fu Polin slapped his chest: "If we retreat, so many years of hardship will have been wasted!"

"Well said, Boss; we can't retreat." Summoned Beast Yu cooperated like performing a comic duet. He also understood what Fu Polin was hesitating about. Once this move is played, a huge amount of Gold Bonds in hand goes without saying, but a huge amount of hatred will also be attracted onto themselves.

The West River Association has hundreds or thousands of enterprises, meaning thousands or tens of thousands of merchants and big merchants. Fu Polin using the tyrant contract's favorable terms to force repayment... no one will like it.

Not everyone can fight the Central Bank, but everyone can hate Fu Polin.

The remaining 6 summoned beasts lowered their heads hesitantly.

Fu Polin didn't expect their full support; he clapped his hands, laughing: "Good that no one opposes — I was just worried you'd oppose. That's settled then; each person take your list; this afternoon I want to see the bonds delivered — remember, this is cash, be careful not to lose it."

Old Yu shoved and pushed everyone out; he's an accountant, he doesn't do this kind of offense-giving work.

... (Unfinished. If you like this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian. com) to vote recommendation tickets, monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)

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