Chapter 854: Doing what can be done and this is a choice

Sometimes, manic, loud, angry, cannot exert pressure and fear.

On the contrary, that kind of calm attitude can make people more afraid.

On the way here, Carl had been thinking about how to identify who among these people betrayed him and who didn't.

In his brain, he wanted to find something that made even himself feel afraid; finally, he thought of Lanse.

Lanse would never be like those people who tried to prove they shouldn't be underestimated, standing up, shouting loudly, or pounding the table, throwing things on the ground.

He wouldn't do that; he just watched calmly, like a gentleman, using a gentle tone and manner to say some things that made people feel terrified.

No need for any loud voice, no need to hold a weapon and gesture at you; he just sat there, and could make people feel afraid to the bone.

He had to learn.

And use his own way to understand.

And now the calmness he showed was what he had mastered from his contact with Lanse.

The calmer, the more unsettling, fearful, and terrifying!

He just said these words simply, without even using effort, and the guy sitting opposite him already had an uneasy expression on his face.

He was trying to convince himself.

"Carl, I promise, I swear to God, I absolutely never betrayed you or anyone else!"

He was very flustered, his eyes were a bit evasive, plus his body language, he seemed to be desperately wanting Carl to realize that he was not that kind of person.

Carl took a puff of the cigarette, slowly exhaled, and lowered his head to look at the cigarette in his hand.

He thought of himself when he was a child, being wrongly accused by his parents of stealing two coins from their pockets.

He was very angry when he was wrongly accused; fire could come out of his eyes; he stared tightly at his parents, telling them he didn't do it!

He wouldn't be like this person in front of him, flustered.

Being wrongly accused, either aggrieved or angry, but shouldn't be flustered.

After scratching his ear, which was suddenly itchy, "You said you didn't betray anyone, but the time you spent with them was the longest among everyone."

The middle-aged man shouted aggrievedly, "They just chatted with me about some messy things and didn't talk about the relationship between me and you at all."

"They deliberately stayed with me to make the time we spent together longer, to cover up their real purpose!"

"This is framing!"

Carl couldn't help but laugh twice, "What do you have that is worth framing?"

This sentence made the middle-aged man stunned for a moment, and his expression froze on his face.

He couldn't find any way to counter Carl's words; what did he have that was worth framing?

He… okay, he really didn't have the value of being framed.

After a while, about seven or eight seconds, Carl took another puff of the cigarette and then reached out and took a tie from his pocket and threw it in front of that person.

"You want me to believe you, it's easy!"

He pursed his lips at the tie, "Prove it to me."

The guy opposite him was stunned for a moment, and then subconsciously picked up the tie, looking at Carl with a blank face, as if asking what the hell this tie was for.

Carl pursed his lips, gestured two circles around his neck, and then pointed to the iron railing on the window beside him, "Prove it."

This guy understood, he looked back at the window on the wall with the tie, and a crying expression appeared on his face.

"Carl…"

Carl looked at him expressionlessly, "I don't like people who lie."

"Everyone might be influenced by others at some point; I was also influenced by others before."

When he said this, the image of Boni appeared in his mind; he had been influenced by Boni before, and for many years.

Recalling these past events now, he suddenly didn't have so many other emotions toward Boni, only a kind of ordinary heart toward the stupid things he did in the past.

He shook his head, "You can be deceived by them, influenced by them, but don't lie to me!"

"I trust you, chose you, this is also your request, but you tried to do things that hurt our friendship."

"Think about your family, think about the people outside."

"They are still waiting for you, they are still longing for a better life."

"You want to prove you are not that bad person now, so prove it to me."

"Either tell me what you said to them."

"Or prove that you didn't betray me."

Carl's words had no ups and downs, just such direct narration, but it gave the middle-aged man great pressure.

He could hear that Carl was threatening him, threatening him that if he didn't do as told, he would involve others.

A middle-aged man who could take such a big risk to do those things must not be entirely for himself; he had other reasons.

He looked at Carl, his eyes full of despair; Carl was indifferent to the despair in his eyes, just staring at him.

The middle-aged man slowly untied the tie, constantly cursing with dirty words in his mouth.

He stood up, carried the chair to the window, and looked back at Carl.

After the two looked at each other for a moment, he cursed and stood on the chair, let the tie pass through the iron railing on the window and come back, and tied a dead knot.

He stood on the chair, and it could be seen that he was very nervous.

Carl had been observing him; he felt this person had a problem; he spent the longest time with those lawyers, and his eyes were always evasive, and he also seemed flustered, but now it seemed he wasn't so sure.

Whether he was one of the people he was looking for, Carl had a headache.

He took another puff of the cigarette, looking coldly at this middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man's body was trembling; he slowly tied a dead knot with the tie, then put it around his neck, and stood on the chair looking at Carl, "Don't forget your promise to me!"

"Fuck!", he couldn't help but curse again, and then kicked the chair over.

Watching the struggling middle-aged man, Carl's butt suddenly left the chair, but the moment he stood up, before he had stood up, his movement paused.

The hope that flashed in the eyes of the guy hanging on the wall became dim again.

Carl slowly sat back down; he took puffs of the cigarette one by one, watching the middle-aged man hang on the wall, and finally, there was no movement at all.

He took one last puff of the cigarette and slowly exhaled.

The moment the smoke left his mouth, it rose up, blocking his sight and making his vision blurry.

"Sorry, don't blame me.", Carl stood up holding the table; his legs were slightly soft.

It wasn't that he felt afraid seeing someone die in front of him, but he associated it with if he didn't do this thing well, then one day he would also be like this person, killing himself with his own hands, so he felt a bit soft in the legs.

At the same time, he also swore that he would absolutely not let this day, this scene appear!

Actually, he didn't know at all who betrayed them and who didn't.

He was just bluffing, exerting pressure, letting them show flaws through psychological pressure; he didn't know if doing this was useful, but he knew that as long as he did it, it could have some effect, a warning effect.

Maybe everyone betrayed him, but it was also possible that no one betrayed him, just like this middle-aged man in front of him; he could hang himself on the wall, but did he really have no problems at all?

If he had no problems, it would be fine to take him down, but what if he had problems?

By then, it wouldn't be this middle-aged man making a choice here, but Carl making a choice.

He didn't want to become a person who had to do multiple-choice questions; he wanted to become the person who let others do multiple-choice questions, so he could only stifle all dangers in the cradle.

He went out from the room; the police officer outside looked inside and didn't speak.

The "script" had already been arranged; the branch chief here would resign in two days, just in time to take the blame for not being decisive in handling the parade and demonstration; two pots were carried at once, but only one consequence had to be borne; obviously, he earned it.

Lanse had already prepared a new job for him, a supervisor in the security department of the Imperial Chamber of Commerce; the people he managed were not as many as the people he managed now, but his income would be more than here.

In the chief's office, Chief Bulu sat in the branch chief's chair, talking to the branch chief like the owner here.

"They all think I was biased and chose you."

The branch chief didn't have any negative emotions because he was about to lose his chief job; his face was full of smiles, including his family, who all thought he had made a correct choice.

He said slightly boastfully, "This is luck!"

They chose who would take the blame by drawing lots, and he won!

God hoped to choose him, how could he lose?!

Chief Bulu sighed lightly, "Is your resignation letter written?"

The branch chief nodded, "It's in the second drawer on your left hand; maybe you can help me check it again?"

Chief Bulu didn't object; he took out the resignation letter and read it seriously, and also found several places that could be modified.

When Carl came out from the second room, the police officer glanced at the suspect who hanged himself again and took the initiative to greet Carl.

"Mr. Carl."

Carl was preparing to go to the next room; he looked back at this police officer, "Is there anything?"

The tone couldn't be said to be very good, nor could it be said to be very bad, giving people a feeling of being impatient.

The police officer explained the reason why he called him with a smile, "If there are so many people hanging themselves in our branch at the same time, it is possible to be guided, causing some situations that make us more passive."

Carl turned around and looked at him, his tone carrying a trace of vigilance and scrutiny, "What do you mean?"

The police officer didn't show any unease because of Carl's expression and tone; he just said with a smile, "Although letting everyone hang themselves can indeed deter others, it will also leave us with relatively large flaws and trouble."

"My idea is, next, if you still want to kill anyone, you don't need to do it yourself; I will take them to the ordinary detention room, and then someone will trigger a riot, and this person will accidentally die in the riot."

"It's also death, but I believe that death caused by a riot in the detention room will definitely bring less trouble than… hanging yourself in the room, and the deterrence produced will not be less."

Carl thought for a while and nodded, "What you said makes some sense; what is your name?"

The police officer told him his name, and Carl nodded, "I remember you."

Later in the evening, Carl picked out everyone he thought betrayed him; these people were detained in the same detention cell.

At night, I don't know why, a conflict broke out in the detention cell; some of them got knives from somewhere, causing the fact of multiple deaths…

At the same time, there was also a piece of gossip circulating among these arrested refugee attackers—

Those who died betrayed Carl, so Carl retaliated against them!

And, this message was followed by another message: Carl would keep an eye on them.

If any of them tried to betray themselves, then they, along with their families still outside, would all be finished.

For a time, this made these arrested refugee attackers become cautious; they didn't talk to others, became isolated, and it seemed only this could prove they didn't pass messages.

Carl didn't know what happened after he left; he returned to Lanse's office and narrated everything he did to Lanse.

Lanse listened quietly to him finish how he distinguished these people and how he disposed of them, and then nodded noncommittally, "Not bad!"

Carl was still a bit worried, "Mr. Lanse, I can't guarantee that everyone was picked out; maybe there are still people hidden among them, but I didn't discover them."

Lanse shook his head slightly, "You have already done the best you could do, but you also have to be prepared for the worst."

"Our opponents this time are not so easy to muddle through; maybe you will encounter some trouble, but I believe you can handle it, right?"

Without waiting for Carl to answer, Lanse signaled that he could go back, "Don't run around during this time; if there is any news, I will notify you at the first time."

Lanse could feel that this Mr. Walter was not a stupid person.

Carl was a good breakthrough point, if he couldn't hold on.

In the next few days, Mr. Walter had been visiting those workers injured in the conflict on behalf of the Labor Alliance; he had a very "politician" style; as long as he appeared in public, there would be quite a few reporters around him.

Reporters filmed the scenes of him visiting and sending some "condolence money" into the hands of the injured workers and sent them to the newspapers, which became the Labor Alliance caring about the health of the injured workers and also aiding them with some money.

Actually, what they aided, for those who were urgently in need of medical expenses now, couldn't be said to be of no use at all, but could only be said to be of no great use.

For example, Oge.

Oge also accepted the "aid," a total of fifty dollars, but what he was facing now was a bill of more than nine hundred and fifty dollars; what he needed was nine hundred and fifty dollars, not fifty dollars.

However… better than nothing.

In the morning, when the doctor entered the door, he saw Oge's wife leaving with a slightly angry face; he didn't know what had happened between this couple.

Actually, the reason was very simple: Oge wanted to take three painkillers because one painkiller was of no use to him, and two only had a little use; he hoped to increase the dosage to make himself more comfortable.

He couldn't afford the special painkillers that cost more than three dollars; now he was using painkillers, five cents a piece, a bottle of fifty pieces.

The effect of this painkiller was certainly not as fast as that injection, nor was it as comfortable as that injection.

After taking this painkiller, it could only reduce the pain and discomfort on the body, but there was still this obvious discomfort, unlike the special painkiller, where one injection down, the whole person, the whole world relaxed.

The doctor told him to take two pills a day, one in the morning and one in the evening.

But he was taking them four times a day, starting with two pills each time, and today he even planned to take three pills directly.

Maybe there were reporters following him, recording what he had done during this time, and his male chauvinism seemed to have erupted.

He had a quarrel with his wife; the woman left angrily, leaving only Oge.

This might be the best grace for Oge; he could do whatever he wanted now.

Actually, the drug effect hadn't exerted its effect so quickly, but under the psychological effect, he felt that his body was not so painful anymore.

He greeted the doctor with a smile, "Checking the room again?"

The doctor shook his head, "Vice President Walter Carriel of the Labor Alliance talked to our company, and we decided to postpone the collection date to the first weekend of May."

"This way you have about six days to raise medical expenses; if you still can't raise medical expenses like this, then we can only regretfully follow the hospital's process."

He didn't say what the process was like, and what the result was like; it was nothing more than suing Oge, asking him to pay this money; he couldn't pay it, so he could only auction it.

He knew the tricks of the auction very well; if his house fell into the hands of the bank, then his house would become worthless.

In the state of not being so painful, he felt the urgency again.

In the afternoon, a new patient came to the bed next door; as soon as he came in, he talked to the people around him about how he killed all sides at the gambling table last night.

"Do you know how much money I brought when I went over last night?", he said to his friend with all his strength.

His friend also replied very cooperatively, "Not very clear, a few hundred?"

"One hundred dollars, I only brought one hundred dollars; until now, I already have more than two thousand dollars; after I am discharged from the hospital, I will still go to find their trouble!"

Carl glanced at the patient in the next bed; he didn't believe what this person said, using one hundred dollars to win more than two thousand dollars.

Although he didn't quite believe it, the idea of quickly obtaining a sum of money through the casino was no problem.

People in New Jincheng were very familiar with gambling; almost everyone would play two hands!

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 855 =====