Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 130 - 115: Calling the police? What do you need from us? (Additional update 4 for the alliance leader ’Glory of the Night’)

Chapter 130: Chapter 115: Calling the police? What do you need from us? (Additional update 4 for the alliance leader ’Glory of the Night’)

The massacre case left few definitive pieces of evidence, but there were plenty of avenues to investigate.

Whether the case could be cracked or not hinged on finding the right direction.

While cleaning up the drugs, bodies, and pile of money at the victims’ home, Green had been sent by Brian to investigate the social identity of the deceased.

He came from a poor neighborhood and had a group of friends who were already part of gangs, always well-informed.

Green quickly brought back some news,

"Boss Brian,

The male victim of the massacre case is called Sherick, the second-in-command of the Helen Gang.

The Helen Gang is a smuggling group with only a little over a hundred members, specializing in zero-dollar purchase and overseas smuggling of electronic devices—not very notable, belonging to the beggar gangs. The core consists of just three people.

Sherick was one, the gang leader Helen was another, and there’s one more person named Qi Baosen, of Chinese descent, the gang’s accountant and head of the overseas smuggling channels."

Green was a perceptive man, directly addressing Brian as boss.

Brian was very satisfied with Green’s efficiency, "Do you know where the headquarters of this Helen Gang is?"

Green nodded, "Although the Helen Gang is just a beggar gang, many people in this poor neighborhood are aware of it. They often come to them to fence their loot or to buy some cheap stolen goods. They have fixed warehouses and an active range."

They grabbed something to eat.

Then the two men and their dog set out again, headed for the Helen Gang.

...

Regarding the poor neighborhood,

Although it wasn’t the area where Green lived, he still knew his way around and even continually shared some knowledge with Brian on the way.

Although Brian was somewhat aware of these things due to the Kamor family, he was nowhere near as familiar as Green, who was in the circle, so he also learned a thing or two.

Before long,

They arrived at a somewhat dilapidated small building.

There was a warehouse next to the building, and several black men were playing cards under the glow of a large light. Further away, some kids were burning fires in oil drums, laughing and seemingly at peace.

The two men checked their equipment, put on their Bullet-Proof Vests, and then got out of the car.

This time, Shi San stayed in the car.

It had been a few hard days, and it was still young and now, sound asleep.

Seeing a car suddenly stop and two tall men get out,

A few people immediately put down their cards warily and looked towards Brian and his companion, with one’s hand already reaching towards their waist.

It wasn’t that they were too sensitive, but rather, in the poor neighborhoods, sometimes separated from the outside world by just a street, both could feel like different worlds. Police were almost never seen, and shootouts between gangs could happen at any time.

A few of the kids playing with fire also quietly ducked into the shadows.

They’d go and call for help if there was trouble.

Seeing this,

Green quickly made a gesture unique to black people, "Hey, brothers, we mean no harm. We’re just here to find out some things from you."

"Who are you?" asked one of the black men with thick lips, sounding unfriendly. "We don’t have brothers who dress up as nicely as you guys."

"Sherick was dressed pretty well, wasn’t he? Those big gold chains and diamond rings looked quite valuable," Brian shrugged his shoulders. "That’s right, you’re just small fries to him. He’d never treat you guys like brothers."

Green thought this was not good.

Sure enough, the next moment, two black men pulled out handguns, "What did you say, you little white-faced son of a bitch..."

Bang, bang~

Two gunshots rang out.

The handguns held by the two black men were directly shot out of their hands.

They looked at Brian with a stunned expression, not quite understanding what had happened.

For them, accustomed to random gunfire that often didn’t hit anyone, this gun skills and firing speed were beyond their comprehension.

Brian twirled his gun around showily, pointed to the NW operations badge on Green’s chest, and said, "Remember, wearing this means we’re the only thugs. Whoever dares to pull a gun gets his head blown off—that’s how our B6 unit rolls."

With that,

He walked up to the black man who had just spoken insultingly, put on gloves meant for inspecting corpses, and slapped them each once, "You should be thankful you didn’t disengage your safety. Otherwise, right now, you could be kissing the dirt with your stinky mouths!"

Brian’s arrogant demeanor not only prevented the gangsters from flying into a rage but also ensured they didn’t dare make a rash move.

Survival in the underworld required not being impulsive, foolish, or lacking perception.

Anyway, this was their Helen Gang’s territory.

These two men wouldn’t be able to escape.

...

Seeing that the men said nothing,

Brian didn’t care and simply gestured for Green to sit down where those people had been before and started to wait.

The reason he dared to be so brazen was that he had the confidence to back it up.

As for Green,

The warehouse was right behind him.

He was confident that in a dangerous moment, he could throw the opponent in there.

It remained to be seen whether Green had the guts.

This was also a little test for him from Brian.

Without that courage, no matter how talented, he wouldn’t amount to much and wouldn’t be worth cultivating!

While Green anticipated what would happen next, he still steadfastly followed Brian, but the safety on his service pistol had already been disengaged.

Now Green somewhat regretted not taking the automatic rifle from the car.

After two or three minutes,

A gang of dark-skinned individuals, armed with guns, surrounded the area.

Those who had just been guarding the warehouse quickly joined their companions.

One who had spoken first also reported the situation to a large black and fat figure within the crowd.

The big fat black man glanced at Brian, who was sitting calmly, and immediately instructed his subordinates to put their guns down. He walked over with a simple smile on his fat face, "I’m Helen. May I ask what it is you officers would like to know?"

This gang leader, behaving so humbly in front of all his subordinates, chose to bow down right away.

"Very perceptive."

Brian complimented, then pulled out a printed photo, "You should recognize this person, right?"

Helen took the photo with a puzzled look.

The next moment,

His expression changed dramatically, and he said angrily, "Sherick! That’s my good brother Sherick, who killed him!"

Brian shook his head, "We’re still investigating. Has Sherick been acting unusual lately?"

He had already used his enhanced sense of smell to confirm there was no scent of the killer on the scene, and with the victim’s obsession, it was clear the perpetrator was a Mexican. So, it seemed unlikely that anyone from the Helen Gang was the suspect.

After a moment of thought, Helen nodded with some hesitation:

"Recently, we’ve had a batch of smuggling goods stored in a warehouse in Las Vegas. It’s one way we legitimize some valuable smuggled items.

Sherick took a few brothers to carry out an auction for unpaid storage there.

Everything went smoothly.

Sherick successfully brought the goods back.

But afterward, he said he wanted to spend some time with his family and rest, otherwise, I would have definitely known if something had happened to him."

"Call the people who went with Sherick."

Brian realized that the problem must have occurred on this trip to Las Vegas.

It involved the death of his own good brother.

And this pretty boy seemed like trouble.

Without hesitation, Helen pointed out several people.

He was into smuggling, not trafficking drugs or arms, and under the influence of his Chinese partner, he preferred to advocate for peaceful wealth-making and generally disliked resorting to knives and guns.

...

Brian and Green separately questioned several people.

Green obtained some useful information.

Sherick was fond of gambling. Aside from the gang’s warehouse, he had auctioned off several other warehouses.

At first,

He had a few minions help haul the goods but later found an excuse to send them away to play and chose to load the goods himself.

The problem must have been with those few warehouses.

Sherick must have auctioned off someone else’s warehouse.

Brian couldn’t help but feel a headache.

Such matters required inter-regional investigations, which were difficult to conduct.

It seemed unlikely that the case would be solved today.

...

Suddenly, a commotion came from outside.

A group of terrified members of the Helen Gang retreated in horror, eventually hiding behind their boss, Helen.

Helen was somewhat angry: "What’s going on!"

"Boss, look over there."

Helen, Brian, and Green all looked toward the street ahead.

They saw a few sedans slowly appearing before them.

Outside the cars, several automatic rifles were aimed at the crowd, flaunting as if this place was Mexico...

Green quickly stepped in front of Brian: "Boss Brian, something’s not right. If it was a gang fight, they’d usually set a date in advance, warn the locals to avoid collateral damage and police calls. These guys are clearly outsiders!"

Brian nodded and gestured to Green to just watch.

Seeing Brian and Green’s calm demeanor, Helen took a deep breath and signaled a trusted subordinate to step forward and inquire.

A well-dressed black man nodded, extended his hands to show he meant no harm, and approached the vehicles: "Hey, this is Helen Gang’s territory, what do you want?"

Bang~

Under the night sky, a gunshot erupted.

The approaching black man didn’t even have time to scream as his body was instantly flung more than three meters away, riddled into a ragged sieve, and he died on the spot.

The ruthlessness of the act stunned all the small-time smugglers and robbers.

A burly white man with a cigar dangling, holding a shotgun, wearing sunglasses, kicked open a car door and swaggered out, pointing at the crowd, "Who’s the boss of Helen Gang, come to me!"

Seven or eight men in suits with automatic rifles silently stood behind the man, their stares cruel and mocking, as if they were looking at a group of garbage waiting to be slaughtered.

Helen swallowed hard, looking at Brian for help.

These people were clearly ruthless killers. If a real conflict broke out, his minions, who tended to bully the weak and fear the strong, would probably run faster than anyone else.

Brian saw Helen’s pleading eyes and remained motionless.

None of his business.

But secretly, Brian had already pressed the distress button on his wristwatch.

He sensed that these people were too arrogant. Something felt off.

...

Seeing Brian playing dead, Helen had no choice but to signal a trusted subordinate with his eyes, resignedly raised his hands, and stepped forward saying from a distance, "I’m Helen. May I know what you want?"

Upon seeing that the boss of Helen Gang was a big black fat man,

The man with the shotgun and the cigar pulled down his sunglasses, revealing a fierce look underneath, "The goods, your people took our stuff. Hand over both the men and the goods!"

"Sorry, can you tell me what goods? We’ll return them if we have them!" Helen was very cooperative, "All our goods are in the warehouse back there; you can go check it out now."

Seeing him cooperate,

The cigar man nodded and signaled a subordinate to go check out the warehouse.

A few minutes later,

The subordinate shook his head at him: "Boss, it’s just a bunch of junk electronics, electronic products, and clothes, none of our stuff."

"Playing games with me?" The cigar man violently threw away his cigar, picked up the shotgun, aimed it at Helen’s feet, and fired several shots!

Helen, terrified by the lunatic man, screamed and crawled back in retreat, "My people have already called the police. Don’t be so arrogant!"

"Called the police?"

The man seemed to have heard the funniest joke, looking back at his subordinates, "Hahaha, he said he called the police!"

His men in suits also burst into laughter.

Under the gaze of a bunch of black men,

The man, whose stomach ached from laughing, pinned a Las Vegas J police badge onto his chest: "Come on, the officer is standing right here. What do you want from us?"