If everything Alex said was true, then the murder of her father would certainly not be as simple as it seems. Of course, it cannot be ruled out that the testimony of Alex, who is a family member of the deceased, may not be objective, but in any case, Gwen feels the need to help her confirm it.

She changed into her homemade black and white uniform, and flew through the city to the headquarters of the New York Police Department. She landed lightly on the edge of the building and climbed down the wall to the window.

To her surprise, she thought that the detectives should have gone home from work to rest, but the light still came out of a window. She crawled to the window and poked her head out to look inside. She saw a detective from the Homicide Unit sitting at a desk, illuminating the desk with the light of a lamp.

The detective sat on the edge of the table, intently looking through a case file.

Gwen turned over, her back pressed against the wall by the window, her hands and feet attached to the wall. She was going to wait for the detective to turn off the lights and leave before sneaking in to see if she could find Alex's father's case file.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the room, followed by the sound of the door opening. Gwen couldn't help but peek in again, and saw that it was a half-bald detective walking in.

"Huh?" The bald detective wondered, "March, you're not gone yet?" ”

"Frank, aren't you coming home?" The detective named March waved at him.

"Forgot the key. As I get older, my memory is starting to be worse than in the past. Detective Frank sighed and walked over to his colleague's desk, "Is there a case that can't be put down?" ”

"yes, yesterday's case. A middle-aged man named Rock Russell overdosed on drugs. ”

Gwen pricked up her ears. She remembered that it was Alex's father.

Detective Frank frowned, "I heard that the investigation is complete. The guy was found along with the syringe barrel, with a toxin in his body that could poison the elephant, and his fingerprints were taken from the syringe. The evidence is conclusive, it is conclusive, what else is there to see? ”

"It's too much." Detective March shook his head, "There are loopholes in this theory from beginning to end. Don't say anything else...... I've done the survey, Frank. Mr. Russell bears no resemblance to an addict. He died with a designer watch on his wrist and a valuable painting hanging in his room. We've been detectives for so long, and we've all met a real junkie, Frank. You know in the home of a real addict, all of these things will eventually turn into drugs. ”

"So maybe he didn't use drugs before? Maybe Mr. Russell has finally decided to have some fun and make a difference in his life? ”

"It's not that simple." Detective March denied it, "And I went to the company where Mr. Russell worked and asked some questions." Some say Mr. Russell seems to have asked questions before he died, and he felt that there was a large gap in the financial statements of his department. He went to his boss with the list, and the final result after verification was only an accounting error. ”

Frank took the file from him, picked it up and flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed.

"It's very wrong, Frank, I can sniff it." Detective March said firmly, "Don't tell me it's just a coincidence. If this is a coincidence, then I have been a police detective for so many years. ”

Frank gently slapped the case file and put it back on his desk. He looked around as if to make sure it was just the two of them, and then he lowered his voice and said, "Just for your own good, March, let this case pass." ”

Detective March was stunned for a moment: "Why?" ”

Frank was silent for a long time, and then slowly said a word: "Jin Ji." ”

There was a sudden silence in the office. The two detectives stopped talking strangely, and pins could be heard in the air.

"You...... Hell, you mean, the company that Mr. Russell works for," Detective March lowered his voice, intentionally or unintentionally, "actually working for Kim?" ”

They spoke the word "Konha" in such a light tone, as if they were afraid that the mere mention of the name would lead to the big man with his hands and eyes in his hands.

Detective March pulled out a cigarette, took out a lighter, lit it, and took a hard puff.

"Hell alive." He spat out the smoke ring and cursed in a low voice, "Mr. Russell...... Have you been to his house? He has a wife and a seventeen-year-old daughter...... Oh my God, that little girl is as old as my niece. ”

"I know." Frank said.

They remained silent for a while, until the cigarette in Detective March's hand reached the filter.

"What a fucking city." He cursed again.

"Welcome to New York." Frank picked March's coat from the back of his chair and threw it into the colleague's arms, "Let's go, let's go all the way back, and we can also take a ride along the way." ”

"Okay." Detective March shrugged, put on his coat, and seemed to have accepted the facts and decided to drop the case.

"Or maybe we can have two drinks before we go back." Frank proposed, "I'm in for a treat." ”

"You said it yourself, I'm going to drink up your salary for the next month."

"Hah, if you can."

The sound of the two detectives' conversations and footsteps went down the hallway. Gwen waited a little longer before opening the window and climbing inside, and walked softly to Detective March's desk and picked up the case file he had thrown on the table.

At the same time, she kept asking the same question over and over again in her mind.

Who is Kim?

***

A two-meter-tall man with broad shoulders stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the bustling night scene of New York City from a height of more than 200 meters. He wears a custom-made oversized suit that is nearly as wide as two grown men. He had shaved his hair, and the white light illuminated the top of his bare head as bright as a freshly polished marble floor.

Kim is the ruler of New York's underworld, a truly unique king of crime, and perhaps even the biggest underworld boss in the United States. Not only does he have control over all the criminals in New York, but he also has his pawns in all the key departments of the city. In terms of influence alone, the mayor of New York City doesn't even have as much power as he has.

A man in a suit walked into the room. He wore glasses, looked gentle, and behaved respectfully and decently. He stood in the doorway in a standard posture and said in a very soft voice, "Sir, the time is up." Mr. Michael Paso's fundraising gala on the theme of Rebuilding New York. ”

"Got it." Kim didn't look back, and replied in a majestic, hoarse voice, "You go down first, go to the car and wait, and I'll follow." ”

"Yes, sir."