She is a natural disaster.

Chapter 28 The Road Ahead is Difficult

"Section Chief! Are you alright? Did he bully you?"

As soon as Hector Evans stepped out of his office, Jolina, who had been waiting for him, immediately came to greet him.

"Are you worried that I'll fight with Barnes?" Evans said kindly. "We're not kids anymore, we won't fight."

Even so, Jolina was still worried. She circled around Evans to make sure he was dressed neatly and didn't look like he had been bullied before she felt relieved.

"Don't worry, I've known Gregory for many years, he won't refuse me this much face." Evans raised his hand and patted Jolena on the shoulder.

"That fat pig Dupont is dead. He was Barnes's most trusted lieutenant. I'm afraid he'll go crazy," Jolene said.

The two detectives from the Criminal Investigation Department walked out of the Operations Department as they spoke.

The two quickly returned to their department and entered an open area divided into many small cubicles.

The officers had plastered all sorts of things on the walls of their cubicles: photos of wanted criminals, photos of family members, work schedules, and so on.

Evans and Jolene walked through the open area and into the section chief's office.

As soon as he entered the office, Evans immediately closed the door, ensuring that the rest of the conversation could not be overheard by anyone.

"Is the death of that fat pig related to you?" Hector Evans asked. He knew very well about the relationship between Jolena and Mike Montagu, and he also knew that Jolena might act impulsively.

Logically speaking, Jolene should deny any involvement in Dupont's death, just as she did when facing Gregory Barnes, refusing to admit it.

But Evans wasn't Barnes; he had always taken good care of Jolena, and Jolena hesitated, unsure whether she should tell the truth.

In that moment of hesitation, Hector Evans got the answer he wanted.

"I understand," he said. "Gregory is right about one thing: this behavior is a provocation against the policing system."

As he spoke, Evans sighed, seemingly worried about Jolena's situation.

"Chief, we're police officers. Shouldn't we be helping Montagu, who was attacked?" Jolina asked. "Why are we involved in the attack on Montagu?"

"Some things have nothing to do with good or evil, only with interests," Evans said helplessly. "The winners reap the benefits and make history, while the losers only face death."

Hector Evans and Gregory Barnes were once hot-blooded youths, but harsh reality taught them a lesson.

"I'm very disappointed, Section Chief," Jolene said. "If we ourselves cannot uphold justice and order, how can we expect others to abide by them?"

In a world where the strong prey on the weak, whoever has the biggest fist is the embodiment of justice and order.

"So you're going to help Montague in the way you think is just?" Evans asked.

"Yes," Jolina nodded in acknowledgment. "Personally, Mike and I grew up together; publicly, I cannot stand by and watch such injustice happen."

"Do you know the consequences of doing this?" Evans asked. "Have you thought about what will happen to you?"

Jolina had thought about it, but she couldn't care less.

"If Montague had survived, you might have become a hero who restored order, but do you think anyone would have dared to give you a position of importance?"

Jolene's act of taking on half of the Upper East Side police force for the sake of justice clearly shows her rebellious nature. Even if Montague survives this ordeal and successfully turns things around, Jolene's career in the police force will end here.

Jolene Joyce might become a hero who sets things right, but she will be marginalized by the police leadership and reduced to a mere mascot.

"If Montague doesn't pull through, being transferred to Old City is the best-case scenario for you," Evans continued. "Worse... I don't need to say, you know what's going to happen."

Just as Gregory Barnes said, Jolene will be buried with Montagu.

"Officially, I'm a detective at the police station," Jolina said stubbornly. "Personally, Mike and I are friends. If I don't help him, what kind of friend am I?"

Hector Evans was stunned as soon as he finished speaking.

It was so similar, so incredibly similar; Jolena's stubbornness overlapped with the figure in Evans's memory.

"I understand, you can go now," Hector Evans murmured. "Be careful, and stay safe."

As Jolina walked out of the section chief's office, she was puzzled. Why was Evans suddenly so sad? Even if he felt guilty about his police uniform, he didn't need to be so sad.

Just as Jolina was about to return to the archives, Anastasia, who had already returned to her Riverside apartment, came out of the bathroom.

Anastasia walked to the marble fireplace and slowly wiped her hair in front of the gilded mirror. She was only wearing an ill-fitting white shirt, Mike's white shirt.

It wasn't that she insisted on wearing someone else's shirt as pajamas, but rather that her clothes were stained with blood.

On the riverbank in the old town, Anastasia ultimately chose to deal with Le Bon Dupont in a very inhumane way, beating him to death with a thick wooden stick.

At dinner time, Le Bon Dupont was still swaggering around the restaurant, wantonly beating a young waiter with his cane, seriously injuring him. At that time, Dupont could never have imagined that retribution would come so quickly.

After dinner, Le Bon Dupont was tied up on the riverbank in the old town and subjected to excruciating torture, with thick wooden sticks raining down on him.

Several thick wooden sticks broke, and many of Le Bon Dupont's bones were also broken. Without the protection of his sternum and ribs, the fat that had accumulated over the years began to compress his organs, and Dupont died in great pain.

After killing Dupont, Anastasia took the greasy corpse back to the new city and hung it on a street lamp opposite the Upper Town police station.

Actually, Anastasia originally intended to light sky lanterns on the street in front of the police station, since Le Bon Dupont's grease should be able to burn for a long time.

"What are you thinking about?"

Mike walked out of the bedroom and continued, "Why are you wearing my clothes again?"

"My clothes are dirty, stained with Dupont's blood, I can't wear them," Anastasia said.

"Dupont? LeBon Dupont?" Mike asked. "That fat bastard detective from the Uptown Police Department, did you kill him, or what?"

Inspector Le Bon Dupont, nicknamed "Fat Pig," was quite a name in the Upper Town. Merchants hated him to the core, wishing they could skin him alive, pull out his tendons, and smash his bones.

"Of course we'll kill him. What else can we do but keep him around for the New Year?" Anastasia said matter-of-factly. "I'll also hang his body on the streetlight in front of the police station as a declaration of war against the police station on your behalf."

Mike was at a loss for words. He knew Anastasia's methods would be drastic, but he underestimated their intensity.

There was no other way; the cooperation was Mike's idea, so no matter how drastic Anastasia's methods were, he had to put up with it.

"What did you get out of the fat pig?" Mike asked.

"A bad news, a so-so news, which do you want to hear first?" Anastasia countered.

"Let's hear the bad news first," Mike said. "That way, I'll be mentally prepared and it'll be easier for me to accept the so-so news."

Anastasia turned around, walked to the sofa and sat down, saying, "The bad news is that LeBon Dupont, that fat pig, knows nothing. He's just an insignificant nobody."

The senior detective in the police station was just an insignificant figure. Although Mike was prepared, the bad news still left him somewhat stunned.

"The good news is," Anastasia continued, "that a mysterious woman suddenly appeared and is warning the Uptown Police Department not to go too far."

Mike frowned. He still hadn't figured out who was targeting him, and now this mysterious woman had appeared!

"In your opinion, is that mysterious woman on our side?" Mike asked, willing to trust Anastasia's judgment.

"In my opinion, no," Anastasia said. "According to that fat pig, all she cares about is whether the new city is peaceful; she doesn't care at all whether you live or die."

Mike was completely speechless. Was his life or death really that unimportant?

He's a top student at the Municipal Economics Institute, the future heir of Montague, so why isn't he important?

"Don't despair too much," Anastasia said. "With that mysterious woman's warning, the Upper City Police Department will be a little more restrained and won't be as blatant as before."

Mike nodded. He thought Anastasia was right. Whoever the mysterious woman was, this warning would serve as a wake-up call for the Uptown Police Department.

“However, there’s still a problem to solve,” Anastasia said. “I killed that fat pig, but the police station didn’t receive the mysterious woman’s warning. We need to find a way to relay the message for that fat pig.”

Mike's first thought was Jolene, who worked at the police station, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Having Jolina relay the message was tantamount to directly implying that Le Bon Dupont's death was related to her, even though Dupont's death was indeed caused by Jolina.

"You must have a way, right?" Mike now had a blind trust in Anastasia, believing that she could solve most problems, and solve them beautifully.

Mike wasn't sure where this blind trust began; it could be from a life-saving grace, or from Father Lawrence, or from the unassuming Transcendent who lived next door to the apartment.

Regardless of the reasons, trust has been established and cooperation has begun; Mike Montagu has no way out.

"Of course there's a way!" Anastasia snapped her fingers. "Just find a newsboy on the street. Aren't there newsboys in New Town?"

Of course, there were newspaper boys on Xincheng Street. They were all children from poor families who supplemented their family income by selling newspapers and running errands.

Mike thought Anastasia was just teasing him, treating him like a child, by having a newsboy on the street relay a message to the upper echelons of the Uptown Police Department.

"What I mean is—"

Seeing Mike's "you're kidding me" expression, Anastasia had no choice but to reluctantly offer an explanation.

"What I mean is, even a child can pass on a message, so you don't need to worry about the mysterious woman's warning not getting through to the police station."