Chapter 892: The Great Scandal

The deputy governor slowly ran his free hand back through his forehead hair twice, his motion gentle.

But the next second, he suddenly flicked the cigarette in his hand at the director, then hurled the ashtray beside him as well.

The director didn't dare to dodge—he only covered his head and took the ashtray's blow head-on.

The ashtray hit the floor with a sharp clang, and at that moment, the butler's voice sounded from outside the door: "Master, shall I come in?"

The deputy governor's butler stood at the door, asking.

The deputy governor shook his shoulders, letting his sleeves, raised by the sudden movement, fall back down. "No, I'll call you if I need you."

He looked at the director. "And then?"

The ashtray had struck his arm directly, and fortunately he had raised his hands—if not, that single blow would have split his skull open.

The deputy governor had shown no mercy at all—he'd aimed straight for his head, which was also a sign of his fury.

If everything the director said was true—that Marshal Ma Xiu, this "key lead," had fallen into the other side's hands and been interrogated for information—the director would be the first to go, and he'd be the second.

In fact, evidence isn't always necessary to act.

Government administrative orders aren't laws; they don't need to comply with specific regulations to take effect—just one word from the governor, a signature, and things can race headlong toward the worst possible outcome.

Even laws don't always guarantee true fairness or justice.

Once public opinion is stirred up, the governor might sacrifice them to quell it.

The deputy governor was still thinking about running for the next governor's seat—he hadn't even considered that his own position as deputy governor might already be unstable. How could he possibly remain calm?

Most people in power have bad tempers—not because they lack manners or are inherently evil.

Simply because the power they hold makes them center themselves more often than not.

If their thoughts or demands aren't met, they feel insulted and get angry.

Some, however, can hide these negative emotions and always project positivity to the outside world, making themselves appear noble and upright.

They still lose their temper. They still have foul moods—just like right now.

The director rubbed his aching arm slightly, gritting his teeth to continue: "While searching for him, we found some clues..."

Before he could finish, the deputy governor interrupted: "Then why the hell aren't you bringing him back?"

"What the hell are you waiting for?!"

The director lowered his head further. "He was taken away, and the other side may have used a private doctor."

The deputy governor's wide eyes narrowed sharply. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head up, eyes closed. "Useless!"

If a private doctor was involved, this wasn't just about the Lans family or any other gang.

"What do you want me to do for you?" he asked.

This was exactly why the director had come here and told him all of this.

Like a child who can't handle something alone, his most likely move is to find his parent—the director hoped to use the deputy governor's connections or other avenues to uncover traces they couldn't find themselves.

The director whispered: "The incident started with the Lans family. If we end it here and pay some price, could that serve as a compromise?"

The deputy governor lit another cigarette, thinking seriously, occasionally glaring at the director.

After a while, he reluctantly nodded. "You can try."

"I want to ask—this Ma Xiu you mentioned—how much of the Lans family's goods did he steal that they'd resort to such measures against him?"

The director whispered: "About two million in market value."

When the deputy governor heard that number, he was... speechless. The figure shook him—he suddenly understood why Marshal Ma Xiu had wanted to embezzle the shipment.

Because it was too much!

Two million—no exaggeration—a normal family would never save that much in a hundred lifetimes, even if they never ate or drank.

But right in front of him, those two million—maybe even more—had fallen like an unclaimed wallet on the street.

All he had to do was lead his officers to intercept the trucks, dispose of the bodies as usual, and those wines worth at least two million would become theirs!

They were highway police, officers of the state police bureau—who the hell would think this shipment wasn't stolen by gangs, but by the police themselves?

Unfortunately, he hadn't pulled it off.

The deputy governor looked at the director. "How much did you take from it?"

The director lowered his head, smiling bitterly. "You probably won't believe me—I haven't received my share yet."

The deputy governor couldn't help laughing twice. "And now it's all a mess."

"You haven't even licked the bottom of the pot—are you joking with me?"

The director shook his head. "He might give it to me—but after everything ends, we won't live to see that day."

The deputy governor sighed. "You always break my lowest expectations of you!"

He paused. "Go do your job. I'll keep an eye on things. If I get any news, I'll call your office or home."

The director didn't refuse—he had no right to refuse now.

After the director left the room, the deputy governor's frown deepened.

While the director was still here, he'd already thought of something—but he hadn't said it.

He picked up the phone and asked a few political friends, who gave him one crucial piece of information—

In Denuozhou, Wei De was not the only mayor from Likaizhou, but he was the first mayoral candidate from Jingang City to be successfully elected.

Likewise, the Lans family was a local evil force in Jingang City.

The deputy governor didn't believe they had zero connection.

Perhaps Wei De knew something—but he wasn't ready to call him yet.

He disliked Wei De. Since this outsider arrived, he'd pushed economic development and local growth with unyielding force, leveraging his influence and connections from Likaizhou to rapidly boost the city's economy.

In this overall economic downturn, one city was thriving against the tide.

More jobs, more social welfare—rumor had it their food vouchers were more generous than elsewhere, plus vital shelters and free meals.

The city's tax revenue was higher than anywhere else!

All of this told a simple, unadorned truth—Wei De had the ability to manage an economy well.

For federal citizens, the most basic desire was a stable job and steady income.

Even if they lost their job, they could still survive on odd jobs and food vouchers, enough to fill their stomachs.

And if, by the remotest chance, they became homeless, at least they had free food and warm shelters to survive the winter, avoiding starvation.

Many supported him—including the state government. Some believed Wei De truly was an economic expert.

He'd accumulated substantial experience developing Jingang's economy, and those results had been clearly replicated in other cities he governed—proving the model could be copied.

If it could be copied, more cities could improve their economies. That was the people's simplest wish: enough to eat, and a little extra to handle risks.

This made the deputy governor's path to governorship far more difficult—Wei De was a formidable rival. So he didn't want to call him.

But things had reached this point—it was no longer about what he wanted or didn't want.

After a long while, he gathered his emotions and dialed Wei De's number.

His mental preparation might have been wasted—Wei De wasn't in.

The secretary said Wei De would call him back once he returned.

After hanging up, he kept thinking—but now he wasn't thinking about Wei De, or that damn Ma Xiu—he was thinking about the director.

Should he protect him—or not?

Just hearing the director describe Ma Xiu and the insane highway police's actions made him break into cold sweat.

Ice-cold sweat, no warmth at all—the already chilly weather made him feel even colder!

These bastards were truly insane—he'd never imagined people could sink this low!

If he forcibly tried to protect the director...

He felt a headache coming. He might pay a huge price, gain no real benefit, and ruin his governorship campaign entirely!

If he didn't protect the director, the director knew too much—how could he make him stay silent?

Though the deputy governor hadn't directly participated in these horrific acts, the flow of benefits existed—even if he himself was unaware.

Even if he could clear most accusations, a charge of bribery and official misconduct was inevitable—his campaign dream would be over.

Headache.

The director was right about one thing—they were in trouble.

Later, Wei De called back on his own—he answered.

"What does the governor need me to do?"

Holding a strong hand, Wei De's tone was light and cheerful—no trace of the old irritation and dullness from when they'd had to speak before.

Now, he was like a boy dancing in the rain, radiating pure joy!

This emotion only strengthened the deputy governor's belief—that damn Ma Xiu was in Wei De's hands.

"I want to make a deal with you, Wei De," the deputy governor said bluntly—he had no patience for dancing around someone he disliked.

Wei De seemed to sense it too—a man who never contacted him suddenly called to confront him—it couldn't be about surface matters.

"What deal?" he asked. "I don't have anything valuable. I don't even have much money myself."

The deputy governor refused to play games. "Marshal Ma Xiu is with you, isn't he?"

"Hand him over. Name your terms."

If there was any way to avoid deciding whether to protect the state police director, it was only one: Ma Xiu was in his hands.

Wei De laughed. "Do I have this man?"

"How would I know?"

The deputy governor's mood darkened further. "Are you refusing?"

The words carried a threat—but Wei De wasn't afraid. "If you think so, then think so. I don't care."

The deputy governor laughed bitterly. "You think having Ma Xiu gives you leverage over me?"

"Wade, you're not a child anymore—can you stop being so childish?"

Mayor Wade showed no weakness or retreat: "I'm not threatening anyone, nor do I intend to quarrel with anyone. I'm simply speaking to you calmly right now."

"You insist I admit something I can't admit—what am I supposed to do?"

The Deputy Governor raised his voice further: "We all know what's really going on. While you're mocking me, aren't you also mocking yourself?"

"I'm genuinely trying to resolve this issue, and I can guarantee you that Matthew and his officers will be removed from duty. Let your friends do whatever they want—this matter ends here!"

Mayor Wade smiled and said, "I'm just afraid the terms I offer won't be acceptable to you."

This remark amounted to an admission of the Deputy Governor's viewpoint: Matthew was in Mayor Wade's hands. He asked softly, "What's your condition?"

Mayor Wade paused for a moment. "Since you're so sincere, fine—I'll change the condition. If you can do it, I'll hand Matthew over to you."

"If you can't, our conversation ends here."

The Deputy Governor took a deep breath. "Speak."

Mayor Wade chuckled jokingly: "Announce publicly that you're withdrawing from the next gubernatorial election, and publicly back my victory in it. Then I'll return Matthew to you."

"You came to me with demands—that proves you know Matthew's value. Don't say I'm not giving you a chance!"

"Do it, fuck no!" The Deputy Governor cursed into the receiver. "You've got nothing but a low-level pawn—you can't change the game!"

He slammed the phone down hard.

A few days passed, then Merlo called Lans with an unbelievable piece of news: Allen and his men had returned to Jin Guang City.

Lans found it hard to believe, but Allen then explained their escape on the phone—

"We headed west into Nanya'an State."

"Nanya'an State," Lans repeated.

Nanya'an State was the southernmost state on the West Coast. This was Allen's first time visiting the West Coast, and since entering Nanya'an State, he'd sensed a different atmosphere.

If his impression of the East Coast was tall buildings, elites in tailored suits carrying briefcases moving through financial firms,

white-collar workers rushing through crowded streets in the morning with sandwiches and coffee, preparing for another day's work,

a fast-paced city where people talked endlessly about economy, development, and politics,

then Nanya'an State was like… a pastoral idyll!

The West Coast was also the Free Party's stronghold. They championed this relaxed, carefree lifestyle, urging people to chant "Freedom forever!" while heading toward economic decline—that's what the Social Party newspapers reported.

They blamed the federal economic downturn largely on the Free Party's ignorance of how to drive social progress, claiming they only cared about their own ideology.

What about the Federal Party?

The Free Party and Social Party clashed, and the more they clashed, the more people joined them; their presence in Congress and across federal society grew larger.

Meanwhile, the Federal Party, which had once dominated social status after the nation's founding, had gradually declined and still showed no signs of revival.

The West Coast had many companies, but people's slower pace of life made them seem freer, more casual.

They didn't race against time—they might choose to order another sandwich and sit down for coffee rather than rush to avoid being late for work.

This gave Allen a taste of entirely different local customs.

They didn't stay long in Nanya'an State. Then, traveling north on the interstate highway, they crossed four states. The three of them took turns driving nonstop for nearly a week before finally bringing the car back to Licaile State.

Merlo said the car needed major repairs to run again, and it smelled terrible—it needed disinfecting and more.

Actually, the stench came from uncleaned blood. They were lucky the temperature wasn't high; otherwise, they might have been infected by bacteria or viruses inside the car before even returning.

In short, that was the general situation: halfway through, they dumped Matthew's eldest son's body beside a derelict warehouse on the western exit road of Hongshi City. Such warehouses existed not just on the east side, but also on the west.

They were bought by ultimate speculators who believed the city's growth would surpass expectations, waiting for the day everything might return to how it once was.

Lans listened to Allen's entire kidnapping account and gave him one evaluation: too foolish.

But fortunately, the whole affair ended well—that was still a good thing.

In late November, major newspapers in Denuozhou all received a package labeled "Important News."

Many newspapers, especially large ones, received dozens of similar packages daily.

Some people thought themselves great contemporary writers, convinced that any scribble they penned would become wildly popular.

Such unsolicited submissions were passed to specialized editors who screened submissions; higher-level editors, like the editor-in-chief, only reviewed serious political news—front-page headlines.

Entertainment or less serious news was filtered by junior staff before deciding whether to publish.

He was busy with his work when an editor knocked on the door. "May I come in?"

The editor-in-chief nodded. "Of course."

It was an editor whose job was selecting news material submitted by the public.

He handed over the package. "You need to see this."

(End of Chapter)