Chapter 949: Everything Must Be Based on Evidence

When they were dragged into another car, the two people's alcohol had already completely worn off.

The first time they woke up was when the police rushed into their friend's room and dragged them out of bed.

When they watched more than a dozen police officers surround them layer by layer, their hearts went cold in an instant, and they knew they were finished.

They weren't sure if it was their friend's betrayal, nor did they know what kind of situation they would face next, but they knew they were finished!

Although murder was a serious crime in Lapa, this serious crime had a prerequisite—you had to be able to catch the murderer.

If you could catch the murderer, the murder case was a serious crime; if you couldn't catch them, it was innocent.

Without a doubt, they belonged to the serious crime category now.

At this moment, they were full of remorse for what they had done before, and they even shed tears of remorse.

It wasn't that they realized what they had done wrong; they were just a little afraid, afraid of death and unknown punishment.

The moment they were pushed into the police car with their heads pressed down, the sky had already turned completely gray.

If it could be said that the alcohol they drank had only worn off halfway by this time.

Then when the car they were riding in stopped after a violent collision, and when they saw several foreigners walk to the side of the car and pull the trigger directly at the two police officers in front, their alcohol had completely worn off!

At first, those bullets only shattered their bones and flesh.

The bullets that followed made the flesh start to splatter, splattering everywhere.

They screamed out of fear and even peed themselves.

When the two were dragged out of the car like dead dogs, their alcohol had completely worn off, and the sky had turned completely dark.

If someone had told them before that no matter how much you drank, until you were drunk, you could be completely sober in a very short time, they definitely wouldn't have believed it.

There was a high possibility they would have thought the person saying this was bragging, but now, they believed it.

Because they were really awake; there was no sleepiness or drunkenness left at all!

Not even a little bit!

Not only that, they also started to cry bitterly, and even couldn't control themselves from peeing.

They didn't dare to speak, curled up in the car seat, letting these people send them out of the city.

They arrived at a very special area; as Zhuolan people, they didn't even know this place existed.

It was on the edge of the city, and it looked like all the buildings were brand new; there were people standing guard here, holding weapons in their hands.

They were brought in, and then the car stopped, and the car door was opened by someone.

The two of them were dragged out of the car by their hair, and two young men sitting in the front seat started attacking them after dragging them down.

Inhumane attacks.

They didn't care at all whether these two were dead or alive, kicking them fiercely with their feet while cursing.

"Let you fucking pee in the car..."

"Fuck!"

One of the stronger guys already had several gashes kicked into his head, and his face was covered in blood.

He hugged his head and lay on the ground begging; at this time, their inner fear had reached the extreme!

The next second, the person beating him grabbed his hair, and amidst his screams that almost tore his throat, tore off a piece of his scalp, but soon grabbed another piece, dragged him to the side of the car, pointed to a water stain on the car that clearly emitted a foul smell, and said, "Lick it clean!"

The slightly stronger guy didn't do it immediately, and then the person behind him pulled a pistol from his waist, turned off the safety, and pulled the bolt.

The young man immediately raised his hands and cried, "I'll lick it right now!"

The person behind him cursed "Fuck" and then tidied up his attire.

He was so angry!

He liked this car very much, but two bastards actually peed in his car; he was so angry he exploded!

Perhaps seeing that the other party really licked it a few times, he calmed down and snorted coldly, "You two follow me..."

This was the land Lanse had bought, and he had built some buildings here, all using Federal steel structure prefabricated parts.

Transporting them over, splicing them together, welding them, and then doing simple decoration made it a building; the construction speed was very fast.

Lanse stood behind the window on the top floor watching everything happening in the parking lot, and he said to Hailamu without looking back, "Your subordinates' tempers are as terrible as yours!"

Hailamu blew his hair, his face full of smugness, "This shows that our temperaments are very compatible!"

He paused, "And then?"

"What are we going to do?"

Lanse didn't look at him, just kept watching the parking lot downstairs; after the group of people entered the house, his gaze then turned to the distant city.

A clean city.

This refers to its air condition; there was no industrial pollution, and at any time, standing in a high place looking at this city, it was very clearly visible.

Large swaths of slums wrapped around a prosperous city center, as well as the wealthy area in the southern region.

It was hard to imagine that in a place where the monthly income of each person was less than five Federal Sol, there were golf courses comparable to the best in the Federation, as well as heated swimming pools, tennis courts, basketball courts, and various sports facilities.

Those wealthy people sweated on the sports fields, lamenting the dullness and boredom of life, but it was less than a kilometer away from them.

A large group of people were searching for things that could be exchanged for money in a river full of garbage, things washed down from the "Upper City."

Garbage to those wealthy people might be valuable things to those poor people.

There were many people who made a living this way; they stood in the sewage river without any protection, looking for things that could bring a little living expense to him and his family.

"That these people can endure until today without doing anything is something I didn't expect."

"And this precisely proves that no matter who the ruler is, as long as they aren't pushed to the edge, the rule will be stable."

"The entire Yalan region is mostly like this; do you know what I thought of?"

He then turned his head and glanced at Hailamu; Hailamu shook his head, "I don't know."

Lanse then took half a step sideways to look at the people sitting or standing behind him, "How about you?"

They also shook their heads, not knowing.

Lanse looked back at the city under the azure blue sky, and the jungle, distant mountains, and everything further away.

"I thought of God's pasture, where there are gentle lambs!"

His gaze soon landed on the limit of his vision in the distance, where some police cars were driving toward here one after another.

"And some wild dogs."

The one who came was the police chief; when he heard that the people had been snatched away, he immediately mobilized a group of people with weapons to go to the hotel.

But the hotel said that Lanse and the others hadn't rested at the hotel for a few days, and then they drove toward the land Lanse had bought.

Along the way, he didn't say a word, and the atmosphere in the police car was very silent.

When the mayor heard that the people had been caught but then lost again, he hung up the phone directly.

What did this mean?

This meant that at the very least, the mayor had already sentenced him to death!

He didn't want to die.

Nor did he want anything to happen; he just wanted to come to work peacefully like any day in the past, then go home peacefully, or go out to socialize, and keep repeating this day.

Instead of being like this now.

He seemed to have made some kind of decision, some kind of determination, and he came here carrying that desperate and intense determination.

Lanse didn't see the two criminals; to him, these two people weren't important characters, not to the extent that he needed to see them in person.

They just happened to play an unlucky role in a terrible event, that's all.

They were important, but not that important.

What was important was their whereabouts, and what wasn't important was their lives.

Seven or eight minutes later, six police cars arrived outside Lanse's territory, and they were blocked at the gate.

Originally, the police chief intended to break in, but when he saw that the people here were basically either holding submachine guns or carrying rifles, he felt that it wasn't necessarily a must to break in; it could be discussed.

He wanted to meet Lanse, and Lanse decided to give him this opportunity, but only he could come, at most bringing one more person.

The police chief chose a subordinate he thought was worth trusting; the two handed over their weapons and, after a rigorous search, were allowed to pass. They had been here before; this was just a piece of wasteland on the outskirts of the city, bought by Lanse last year, saying he was going to build a manor here.

But now, looking at this building that was only nine stories high but whose overall height was probably higher than ordinary buildings of more than ten stories, the chief couldn't find any connection to the word "manor" in his mind.

From the moment he entered the lobby, he felt another kind of golden splendor; the two were led by members of the Lanse family, entered the elevator, soon arrived at the top floor, and met Lanse.

"Sit." Lanse turned back and looked at him.

At this moment, the visual impact formed by everything the police chief saw in his eyes was very strong.

The entire city, including the tiny presidential palace in the distance, became Lanse's background at this moment; he was a bit dazed, and in his daze, he seemed to see the future of this city and this country.

All under his feet!

It wasn't until the trusted subordinate he brought with him touched him gently that he came back to his senses.

The determination he had already made in his heart, at this moment, for some reason, had somewhat disintegrated.

Just like the decision he made in a very short time, he untied himself in a very short time again.

His waist wasn't so straight in an instant, and then he nodded and walked to the side of the sofa to sit down.

Lanse liked floor-to-ceiling windows; he liked the feeling of overlooking the entire city standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, which gave him a very special sense of control, as if the entire city was just a toy of his.

He walked to his desk, picked up the ivory cigarette case placed on the desktop, and pulled out a cigarette.

The person standing next to him immediately lit the cigarette for him; everything happened naturally, without a trace of deliberateness.

He took a puff of the cigarette and looked at the police chief, "They told me that your attitude downstairs was very tough, insisting on seeing me."

"Now you see me, why do you have nothing to say?"

Lanse's words made the police chief react; he clenched his fists, then looked up at Lanse, "Mr. White, can you return those two people to me?"

He didn't mention the fact that a police chief had been killed.

Just a police chief; if the death of a police chief could be used to exchange for this matter being resolved as everyone wanted, then let alone one police chief dying, even if two, three, five, or even ten died.

For the masters living in the wealthy area over there, it was all acceptable.

It was just a police chief; if they pointed at someone at will, wouldn't there be another police chief?

In the final analysis, it was still the underclass of society, the untouchables; dying more wouldn't make them angry.

Lanse shook his head; he walked to the side of the sofa and sat down, "What makes you say those two people are here with me?"

The police chief opened his mouth, and it took two or three seconds before he said, "Eyewitnesses said they saw it was...", he turned his head and glanced at the people standing around the room, "It was people dressed the same as you."

Lanse shook his head again, "Just the same clothes."

"If I wore a police uniform, could it be said that I am a police officer?"

"Someone wearing the same clothes as them doesn't necessarily mean they are our people."

Lanse smiled very gently, as if he couldn't perceive that the police chief was standing in opposition to him at this very moment, "You see, you are the police chief, representing the executor of justice, representing justice itself to a certain extent."

"But the more this is the case, the more careful you should be."

"Behind authority is responsibility!"

"If you don't have evidence, you can't trample on the rules wantonly because of the authority in your hands that doesn't belong to you."

"You think those people are my people, very simple!", he took a puff of the cigarette and exhaled slowly, "Produce evidence."

"If you have evidence, you say who it is, and I will let whoever it is come here."

"If you don't have evidence...", Lanse's face had a few more smiles, "You know, I'm a bit different from those other foreigners."

"They might choose to shut up to avoid more trouble if they encounter unfair treatment, but I'm not that kind of person."

"You have to pay the price for what you've done, Mr. Chief."

"So I'll give you a kind reminder...", he pointed at the police chief with the finger holding the cigarette, "... before you are really ready to be shattered, be careful and cautious; that's what you should do."

After he finished speaking, he smiled, "I hope these words can be useful to you."

"So now, do you have any other questions?"

The police chief sat there; he didn't speak, just sat quietly, and after a long while, he seemed to have recovered.

"Mr. White, do you know that if things keep developing like this, it might... cause many deaths and injuries?"

Lanse raised his eyebrows and looked at him, "So what?"

A simple "So what" made the police chief a bit unsure how to answer this question.

Before he could answer, Lanse helped him answer, "Anyway, in your eyes, aren't underclass people no different from animals?"

"Since when did you start to cherish the lives of ordinary people?"

He started to laugh, "This might not be the funniest joke of the year, but it is the funniest joke of today!"

"Alright, Mr. Chief, if there's nothing else, and you can't produce evidence, then you should go find those people, instead of talking to me about this here."

"I can't help you."

He stood up and looked down at the police chief and his assistant beside him, his eyes revealing coldness, and some indescribable something that looked down on them from above.

He shook his head, turned, and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window, saying at the same time, "Send them away."

Hailamu didn't even need to act; two combat captains walked to the side of the sofa, "Please!"

"Mr. Chief."

The police chief stood up slowly; he looked at Lanse's back and stared for a moment, about a few seconds, and then turned and left without looking back.

After coming out of this building, his expression had become calm, and his trusted subordinate beside him couldn't help but say, "Actually, it was them who did it!"

The police chief gave an "um," "But they want evidence now."

A simple piece of evidence stumped them.

They had never been asked to show evidence before; if they felt someone was a suspect, they would dispatch police to catch the person and then apply measures.

Very primitive measures, which were beating, torture, forcing them to admit to crimes they hadn't committed, and finally "bringing them to justice."

In Lapa, there was actually a very interesting phenomenon.

In some more important cities, for example, a capital city like Zhuolan, the case-solving rate was one hundred percent.

In other words, they hadn't let any criminal go free; all cases were solved, of course, this refers to criminal cases.

Cases that didn't constitute criminal cases weren't in this record.

But as long as it was a criminal case, it reached a one hundred percent case-solving rate.

They had never been asked to show evidence by anyone, until this moment.

His trusted subordinate was also a bit speechless, not knowing how to continue; evidence, where to get evidence?

Witness testimony?

Which witness dared to point out these foreigners like Lanse?

They were the existence that dared to shoot and kill police officers in the street!

Find some people to pretend to be witnesses?

This trick might be useful against Lapa locals, but it wasn't easy to use against these foreigners, and it didn't mean much.

By the time they could substantiate this matter and get it done, they would have missed the twenty-four-hour ultimatum.

Knowing this moment, he finally realized that he was actually no different from those ordinary people struggling to survive in this city, the untouchables in his eyes.

When the "great trend" crashed over, he didn't even have the ability to resist; he would be knocked over by the great trend, then sink into the water, and subsequently become a part of drifting with the tide.

This damn world!

He returned to the police car, glanced at the police chiefs and officers around him, and shouted with a cold face, "Get in the car, go back!"

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 950 =====