Chapter 204

Mr. Wade's acquaintance with Polly originated from Polly's most famous battle.

At that time, Polly was still a street boy looking for work at the station; "street boy" in Jingang City was just a general term, as they were actually divided into several groups.

For example, harbor boys, industrial zone boys, and so on—each district had not just one gang, but many, and this remains true to this day.

Even now, you can still see many half-grown boys wearing peaked caps, carrying coarse cloth sacks, and scrambling for jobs at stations and docks.

According to current federal law, children aged ten and older may work in non-hazardous industries, which is one of the main ways capitalists reduce labor costs.

The wage for one adult is enough to hire two children, and federal law also stipulates that as long as working hours do not exceed ten hours, it is legal and reasonable.

But some children are less obedient, such as those from welfare homes and orphanages, who refuse to become tools for their directors' profit and escape early into society.

Society is a cruel place; facing adult competition, these children have no choice but to band together for survival—that's how street boys came to be.

During a dispute over a loading job, Polly and his group clashed with several adults, all of whom wanted the same position.

The adults, relying on their size and age, shoved and insulted these half-grown boys, trying to drive them away.

A fight broke out, but the job dispatcher turned a blind eye—in the station, whoever is stronger gets the work.

Those who are weak have no job.

Whoever wins, ultimately they must serve them, and they also prefer stronger gangs to work for them, as it reduces trouble.

During the conflict, Polly seized the opportunity and slashed one man, killing him outright.

Mr. Wade witnessed everything firsthand; he admired Polly's decisiveness and ruthlessness, believing this boy would become famous one day.

So he called the chief of the industrial zone police station, and Polly was released without even serving time.

The reason given was that in the chaos, no one could definitively identify who struck the blow, and the workers who accused Polly, as participants, lacked legal standing to testify.

Because of his word, Polly avoided prison—in the federation, juvenile offenders are still punished; being underage is not a shield for misbehavior.

After learning of this, Polly was deeply grateful to Mr. Wade, though they had not yet met.

Nevertheless, rumors began circulating about Polly's connection to Mr. Wade, and with these rumors, Polly quickly drew the attention of the then-weak Brotherhood.

Mr. Wade is one of the city council members, part of Jingang City's "power triangle," representing the entrenched local political faction, like Senator Williams and others.

Their family has lived here for generations and holds federally recognized status as plantation owners.

As Jingang City's strategic importance grew, the Wade family began transitioning from traditional landowners to a political dynasty.

They own vast tracts of land; without their cooperation, Jingang City cannot develop—this became their secret to rapidly climbing the social ladder.

Land transactions brought them social status and immense wealth, while the plantation workers became the city's citizens.

Officially citizens, yet these people still worked for the Wade family—this was the early manifestation of political power.

After generations of inheritance and expansion, the Wade family became one of the local aristocratic clans, just like the Williams family.

After Polly became the leader of the Brotherhood, he handled several matters for Mr. Wade.

With the current situation so dangerous, if anyone could still pull him out, it would surely be Mr. Wade.

So he kept dialing this number, waiting two days until it finally connected.

"Polly, was it you who planted the bombs?"

"I need the truth—only the truth can save you now."

Polly paused for a moment. "The first bomb wasn't mine; the second one was."

"I can assure you, sir, I'm not stupid enough to bomb them on purpose."

"But I don't know why someone bombed them, or why everyone insists it was me—so I… lost control out of rage."

After a few seconds, Mr. Wade continued: "What were you thinking? Why plant the second bomb?"

"Was someone instructing you to do this?"

Polly's expression twisted. "I… Mr. Wade, I just wanted to threaten Dale, to make him know this is your Jingang City—he, an outsider, must follow the rules here…"

Mr. Wade picked up his words: "So you detonated the second bomb, killed several people, and made sure Congress and the President now know your name."

"Polly, what can I even say to you?"

"You bombed federal law enforcement agencies—agencies under intense scrutiny by Congress and the President—do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?"

He sighed; this case was beyond the reach of a mere "minor" city councilman like him. When senators and the President are paying attention, Polly has only one path ahead.

Of course, before that, he must arrange a few things.

"You can't stay anywhere in the federation anymore. Be grateful we're a coastal city—I'll arrange a ship to take you to Ailan. When you can return? That's up to fate."

"When my people arrive, go with them. Then I'll find a way to transfer your funds so you won't be destitute over there."

"I hope this teaches you a lesson, Polly—every choice has options besides 'force.' You don't always have to pick this one!"

Polly listened, almost bowing his head, but how could he respond?

He didn't hear a word—but he knew Mr. Wade was willing to reach out and save him, and that lifted a crushing weight off his shoulders.

The suffocating sensation of death creeping closer finally receded—he could breathe deeply again, no longer choking!

It made him want to cry!

"Mr. Wade…" His voice choked up; he wanted to say something, but finally only managed: "I'm sorry."

"Where are you now? I'll send someone to pick you up."

Big Poli was just about to state his location when, suddenly, as if struck by a flash of inspiration, he gave a wrong house number.

The building was the same, but he gave the address of the neighboring unit.

It wasn't that he didn't trust him—after everything he'd been through, he'd grown a little wiser.

"Good. Stay put. My people will be there soon."

Polly hung up, ate something, and kept watching outside. Though he believed Mr. Wade unlikely to betray him, he remained cautious.

To survive, his mind was sharper than ever before.

Minutes later, two cars suddenly pulled up outside; Polly saw several men in felt hats and trench coats stepping out.

Eight men total—three stayed downstairs, five entered the building. They didn't look like they'd come to escort him out of Jingang.

His expression changed; he cursed under his breath, yet still clung to the last shred of trust in Mr. Wade.

Maybe they came in such numbers just to protect him?

He checked his weapons and stood quietly by the door.

As a faint metallic click echoed down the hallway, the elevator doors opened—and Polly knew Mr. Wade's men had arrived.

He was tense, forcing himself to breathe slowly, so he could clearly hear his own heartbeat.

These people seemed to make no sound as they walked, deliberately softening their steps to avoid alarming anyone.

The room's lights were off; only the hallway remained lit.

The light cast their shadows against the walls and floor; as dark silhouettes kept crossing beneath the door, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

Soon, a knock came from the adjacent room: "Polly, are you in there?"

"Mr. Wade sent me to take you away."

The knocking lasted over ten seconds—then suddenly, the neighboring door opened. A young woman's curse was cut short.

Immediately, footsteps entered the adjacent room. Polly's temple throbbed with a visible vein.

There was no doubt—these men weren't here to rescue him; they were here to kill him!

That's not the same thing at all!

He cursed silently in his mind—cursing Mr. Wade, cursing Chief Dale, cursing… everyone, even the mayor now seemed irrelevant.

Over a minute later, footsteps echoed again down the hallway. He suppressed his curses and listened intently.

"He's not here, but he has the building's address. If he's not here, he's in another apartment nearby."

"Call for backup—don't let him escape…"

"Secure all exits. Two of you go to the roof; the rest fan out around the building…"

"Fuck!" Polly opened his mouth, uttering a silent curse.

How could these people be so smart?

Polly suddenly felt he truly couldn't escape.

He walked back to the window, watching the three men smoking below on the street—he couldn't get out that way.

Damn it, he shouldn't have trusted these politicians!

He knew perfectly well why Mr. Wade wanted him dead—he'd done dirty work for him before, and… as the "mastermind" behind these horrific bombings, if anyone discovered his link to Mr. Wade, the elite would be ruined!

In the end, a man can only rely on himself!

He walked to the phone, picked it up, and considered calling Chief Dale.

A living Polly was far more valuable to Dale—desperate to prove he wasn't a failure—than a dead one.

But he didn't know the Hazardous Materials Bureau's number.

Nor did he know the telegraph office's number—it seemed like a dead end…

Yet, under the threat of death, humans always keep pushing their limits, constantly breaking through them!

Seven or eight minutes later, a young man arrived at the Hazardous Materials Bureau's first-floor lobby, looked at the receptionist, and shouted loudly: "I know where Polly is…"

In an instant, nearly everyone stood up—indeed, both the Hazardous Materials Bureau and federal police had just issued new reward notices.

A living Polly was worth $30,000; a dead one, only $10,000.

Of course, this wasn't meant to encourage killing the bomber—just to ensure hunters could still claim the reward if they shot him in self-defense during resistance.

The man behind two horrific bombings truly deserved this price—some would say it was far too little for what he'd done!

But… Chief Dale could only secure this much in reward money. Still, even this sum had mobilized the public.

Even ordinary citizens were discussing Polly—if they found him, wouldn't they instantly become rich?

No one expected that, right after the reward was announced, someone already knew Polly's location—money's power was truly boundless!

News spread quickly: Polly had been found. Jingang City trembled.

"... Charlie, I don't know how to say it, but I remember your help this time."

"No need for thanks, Mr. Wei De. After all, I'm also a part of Jincheng City!"

"Once spring comes, find a time and we'll play a few rounds together."

"Alright, definitely..."

Mr. Wei De sat in his chair, thinking. The turn of events had exceeded his expectations. That fool Big Poli had finally decided to play clever at the last moment—what a damned bastard.

If he'd played clever earlier, things wouldn't have deteriorated to this point!

Now his greatest fear was that Big Poli knew he had arranged someone to kill him—if so, Big Poli would surely reveal things highly damaging to him.

Though each time he had arranged everything meticulously, with no concrete evidence linking him to orchestrating Big Poli's murders or any other acts.

But for those who set the rules, evidence didn't matter—what mattered was a reason, an excuse.

It's like when you decide to reward yourself with a craft project: your reason isn't the naked girls in those magazines—you simply want to do it.

Then you go find a magazine or something else, and complete your goal.

It's not that you saw the magazine first, then made the decision.

And this matter isn't simply about someone finding out—it involves broader political implications and maneuvering.

If he falls at a disadvantage in this game, he risks being eliminated.

Over the years, how many people Jincheng City has eliminated, he can no longer remember—he doesn't want to be the next.

After much deliberation, he dialed a number he almost never called himself.

"Pas Lei Tuo, I need you to repay me a favor..."

He didn't want to use this favor—but now he had no choice.

At this moment, Mr. Pas Lei Tuo was washing his face. He lay in a barber shop, the scalding towel just removed from his face. Barber Tony stood in the corner, while Pas Lei Tuo 's men stood outside the door.

This was Sumuli District—he was absolutely safe here.

"Rare indeed, Wei De. Your call is unquestionably the best gift I've received this year. So how do you want me to repay this favor?"

As a "local," the relationships among politicians, these families, and gangs were extremely complex—sometimes opposed, sometimes aligned.

Mr. Wei De had once helped him, so he owed a favor, and had ever since.

He had mentioned it many times—he disliked owing favors—but Mr. Wei De never brought up repayment.

As long as the favor remained unpaid, he felt uneasy—who knew when the other might demand something?

So even though his tone was light, his expression showed no trace of ease.

"Big Poli may have surrendered to Dai Er. He knows some terrible things—I don't want those revealed."

"I sent someone to deal with it, but he slipped away. Now Dai Er may have found him—I need your help."

Mr. Pas Lei Tuo thought for a moment. "You've given me a difficult problem, Wei De."

"You know this has nothing to do with me. But if I intervene rashly, I can't say whether it will benefit or harm me—or my family."

"I owe you a favor!"

Mr. Pas Lei Tuo fell silent for a moment. "Remember your promise!" He hung up, called his men outside, whispered to them briefly, then lay back on the chair.

Then he turned to look at Barber Tony. "What are you waiting for?"

Barber Tony immediately began reapplying hot towels to his face and swung the family heirloom razor back and forth on the strop.

About ten minutes later, under Director Dai Er's personal supervision, they found Big Poli in a building, arms raised.

He was cuffed and taken downstairs. Director Dai Er's face showed little excitement as he carefully studied Big Poli.

This man had made him stumble twice—but this same man would become his stepping stone.

Suddenly, he felt he ought to thank Big Poli—his foolish recklessness had granted Dai Er, and the National Hazardous Materials Administration, greater authority!

¤￠o

Now everyone knew this was a dangerous job. Without more privileges, they couldn't do their work.

"Ever since you called me, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Big Poli."

But his answer was a burst skull—he stood frozen, blood splattering over him...