Shadow Empire

Chapter 1175 The End of the Bureau Chief
The day after the election, in addition to reporting on Mr. Porter's victory as president, the Federal Post also reported on another matter.

In the third edition, the reporter who had previously published various "rumors" about Director Roland said that he would present substantial evidence tomorrow to accuse Director Roland of having some moral issues and illegal and criminal behavior.

The news of the president's victory should have been the most important thing at the moment, or rather, the news that the incumbent president was about to leave the presidential palace was something people would like to see.

When a lion grows old, it always evokes certain... special emotions in people. They want to see the tragic grandeur of its twilight years and its eventual demise, and they may also gain some spiritual insights from it.

But no one expected that the reports about Director Rowland would overshadow Mr. Potter's victory.

It can't be said that it was completely suppressed, but... while people were paying attention to Mr. Porter's movements after the election, they also started paying attention to Director Rowland's news, so it was a 50/50 situation.

Also early that morning, Director Roland was summoned by Mr. Potter to his office in downtown New Gold City.

Although he has won the election, he has not yet been sworn in, so he is not yet president and cannot enjoy all the privileges that only the president can enjoy.

However, this time is not far off. In less than a month, the current president will leave the presidential palace and then move in at his leisure. But not now.

He looked at Director Roland, the newspaper in front of him. He rubbed his temples; yesterday's social engagements still gave him a headache. He had drunk too much, so much so that he didn't even know how he fell asleep.

Now, all he has to do is deal with these things, which makes his initially happy mood feel like a fly mixed in with cream—disgusting and annoying.

“You told me you would handle these things,” Mr. Potter said, looking at him. “Frankly, I’m fed up with seeing your scandals in the papers every few days.”

"Roland, I've always thought you were a very smart person, so why did you get your ass so dirty?"

"Don't you have the habit of wiping your butt?"

"It's difficult for me to entrust you with such an important job at the FBI."

Director Roland already felt his ears burning, but when he heard the last sentence, he suddenly looked up, staring at Mr. Potter with disbelief, a hint of dissatisfaction, and aggression, as if asking him, "What gives you the right to do this?"
The two stared at each other for two or three seconds. Director Roland immediately realized that he had gone too far. He lowered his head and avoided Mr. Potter's gaze. "This is just one of their strategies. If they keep throwing mud at me and fabricating some dubious evidence, I will have to explain to the public again and again."

“If they really have any concrete evidence, I should be in the prosecutor’s office or jail right now, not in your office.”

Mr. Potter's gaze swept over Director Roland with a scrutinizing look. Just now, he had sensed a threat in his eyes, a look that was definitely not the respect that Roland was showing him.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Whether they're fabricating questions about you or not, you can't keep doing this, you understand what I mean?"

“The public doesn’t have the ability to discern. You can say they’re fabricating stories or spreading rumors, but the public doesn’t know that. All they know is that our FBI director is a problematic person.”

"Ethical issues, professional issues, all sorts of issues."

"From now until January 1st, you'd better get this matter completely sorted out. Otherwise, I'll consider sending someone else to the investigation bureau until you can resolve your troubles."

Director Roland wanted to explain something more, but Mr. Potter shook his head. "I need to work now."

He didn't let him leave, but his meaning was clear. Director Roland sighed heavily. "I understand, Mr. Potter. I will handle these matters."

He finished speaking, turned and left, his eyes filled with resentment.

The first thing he did upon returning to his office was to call Lance, a rare instance of him taking the initiative to call Lance.

The moment the call connected, he immediately started cursing, "What the hell do you want?"

"Using these despicable, vicious, and laughable tricks to deal with me?"

"Fuck you, Lance, fuck you, I curse your whole family!"

"Do you have the guts to compete with me honestly, instead of resorting to these despicable tricks?"

"I thought you were at least some kind of demon king, but you're so ugly you're just like a clown!"

After he finished cursing, Lance's laughter came through the receiver, "I'm very happy to hear that you still have so much energy and spirit to call me."

"As for what you've said, Roland, don't worry about what methods I use. As long as it works, it's the best method, isn't it?"

"If you're so eager to end this conflict, why don't you wait for tomorrow's news? I guarantee you'll have a big surprise!"

Lance hung up the phone immediately after speaking; he couldn't say anything nice to someone who was so emotionally charged.

Director Roland looked at the receiver in his hand and felt a chill run down his spine. He understood what Lance meant: tomorrow might be the most dangerous moment.

He sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind a complete blank.

On the morning of the second day, which everyone was eagerly anticipating, many mastheads and newsboys crowded outside the Federal Post printing plant in New Kingston early in the morning.

As the workers pushed open the closed iron gate, the sweltering heat from the factory, radiating under the intense sunlight, burst forth, momentarily suffocating those at the front. But then they began waving their banknotes and loudly announcing their needs.

Actually, not everyone comes to the printing factory to pick up newspapers. Some people tell the factory the number of newspapers they need the day before, and then the printing factory arranges vehicles to deliver them at designated points throughout the city.

These newspapers simply need to wait there; money is exchanged for goods, which are then distributed to newsboys who memorize the headlines and run around the streets hawking them.

But today's newspaper is different. It says there is solid evidence that can bring down Director Roland, a prominent figure in recent months. Who wouldn't love to watch this kind of drama?
Presidential elections happen every four years, and they can see that all the time, but news of newspapers killing high-ranking federal employees is not so easy to see.

If they could get the newspapers sooner so that the newsboys could sell them, they could earn more money.

Printing factory workers dragged out large trailers laden with bundles of newspapers, the air still filled with the scent of ink. Pushing through the crowd, the manager in charge of purchasing them shouted, "Line up..."

The already chaotic crowd became even more chaotic, all vying to be the first to get their hands on the newspaper.

The manager just watched them and wouldn't hand out newspapers unless they lined up.

Soon the people quieted down, and as they loaded bundles of newspapers onto their trucks and drove away quickly, the bustling printing factory entrance returned to calm in a very short time.

Only the hot steam constantly seeping out from the cracks in the door seemed to still carry the smell of the commotion from not long ago.

Director Roland also got up very early in the morning, anxiously waiting for the newspaper to arrive.

He kept looking at his watch, every minute.

Around 7 p.m., he saw the newspaper delivery person ride past their house and casually toss a roll of newspaper onto the lawn. He immediately stood up and jogged out of the room.

He put away the newspaper, flipped through it a few times, and quickly found the Federal Post. He stood there, staring at the front page headline in bold, black ink, even with a red tag, his heart sinking lower and lower—

Hero or Criminal?

The front-page headline overshadowed the news of the presidential victory...

He pursed his lips and began to read the report seriously, starting with the fact that he was secretly married.

He saw his missing wife and children, whom his cousin, the bureau chief, had been searching for for a week without success, but who had appeared in the newspaper.

His wife admitted that they were actually married and had children, and that Director Roland had been taking care of them all these years. She said this was because Director Roland believed they would be in danger if they lived together, so he arranged for them to stay in their hometown and forged some of their identification documents.

Besides witnesses and testimonies, there is some limited evidence, some letters and other things that can prove their relationship.

If Director Roland still has a way of getting away with this, he can tell the media, tell the entire federal government, that they are actually divorced.

In common law marriage systems, there are certain circumstances where a marriage can be dissolved without registering at a church. The person can find a reason, such as being too busy with work, forgetting, or some other reason.

But what he saw next made his body begin to tremble slightly.

This was the second time he had experienced this feeling of panic and loss of power.

He swallowed hard, went back down the stairs, plopped down, and began reading the newspaper.

"...With the help of some kind-hearted people, we were able to trace the funds used by this woman and her family in their accounts. As a top reporter for The Post, I know what kind of evidence is more convincing."

“We are not those third-rate tabloids that make up a story and then sue celebrities. I am the Post. We speak the facts and present evidence.”

“In the process of tracing the funds, we found that the family’s funds came from two accounts, one of which was no longer traceable and may have been closed.”

"However, the other account is still in use and there are still funds flowing in and out in the near future."

"What surprised us even more was that one of these fund flows went very strangely; it went to the account of the family of the FBI guard who was responsible for protecting Bob (the later head of the Perez family)."

"At the same time, another sum of money flowed into the family guard's account through another account, which makes us wonder if there is any direct connection between them?"

Director Roland swallowed hard and turned to the second page with trembling hands.

“We can make an assumption: what if this woman and her two children are Director Roland’s wife and children, and he separated from them in the name of ‘protecting them,’ but is still paying for their monthly living expenses?”

"This account was directly or indirectly managed by Director Roland, but it transferred money to an account that was suspected of accepting bribes and committing job-related crimes. Could this be considered a deliberate frame-up?"

"What intrigues me even more is, if all of this is true, why would Director Roland go to such lengths to drag Mr. Lance White down with him, even if it means framing his own people? What conflict exists between them that would lead him, a law enforcement officer, to trample on the law while simultaneously stabbing Mr. Lance White with his dagger?"

"Is he really a crime buster, just like he says?"

"Is there anything else we don't know about here? Are there broader and more complex relationships involved?"

"Who is the person who helped him manage these accounts?"

"Perhaps finding him will solve many mysteries."

“We don’t know for sure, but we will continue to dig deeper and present what we find to the public and readers as soon as possible.”

"The truth should not be obscured by the fog; it will eventually be revealed through our investigation."

"We have handed over the above evidence and witnesses to the Federal Prosecutor's Office."

"If you have any more leads or useful information, you can also write to the newspaper's email address, please indicate..."

The numerous photographs and lengthy texts sent chills down Director Roland's spine. What made him even more alarmed was that these materials had already been submitted to the Federal Prosecutor's Office, and once the judicial system got involved, they would only uncover more.

What angered him the most was that his cousin had transferred money from his regular account to other accounts, even if it was just two hundred. Now that the account had been discovered, everything was exposed!

He stood up shakily, holding onto the handrail beside the stairs, and slowly returned to his room, where he sat on the sofa and picked up the phone.

The most important thing now is to get his cousin, the bureau chief, to destroy all the evidence, leaving not a trace behind!
Once something is discovered, his good days are over!

After dialing the number, no one answered, and his heart sank lower and lower. After making more than a dozen calls without anyone answering, the receiver slipped from his hand.

He curled up, clutching his head in his hands. He didn't think it was just his cousin, the bureau chief, sleeping or on the road. He had a premonition that something had happened to this "key man."

In a house in Director Roland's hometown, his cousin, the director, looked somewhat dark-skinned. This wasn't to describe his current mood, but rather an objective description of the fact.

He had been interrogated for four days straight, with only a short break in between, but the rest was brief. The interrogation was endless, and he was starting to feel the strain.

Devon looked at him and said, "Although I only used some of my methods, I have to say that you have done right by Roland. I didn't expect you to be able to hold on until now."

He used some rather covert methods because this person was very likely to be handed over to the federal government, and if he had too many injuries, it would be easy to create procedural problems.

Therefore, these injuries are all very well hidden, and are mostly located in his private parts.

Devon was gifted in torture; he devised methods that left no visible scars but caused immense suffering.

The first two days were just ordinary interrogations, but the last two days turned into serious torture.

The cousin, the bureau chief, remained silent, fully aware of the consequences of speaking.

At this moment, he was still fantasizing that his cousin could rescue him from here. As long as Roland didn't fall, they, the family members, would not only be able to take revenge, but also have a better future.

Devon looked at him and shook his head. "You're lucky because the Boss said not to make things too bad for you, but you've forgotten one thing."

He walked to the door, opened it, and outside were his family members, who were tied up. "You can't leave here in such a sorry state, but they can."

Devon grabbed his cousin, the bureau chief's wife, by the hair and dragged her into the room. The three young children immediately burst into tears of fear, but the door slammed shut behind them.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not like those people who only think with their lower bodies. I won't 'hurt' her like that, but I might not be able to do other things."

As he spoke, he took out a small object he had made himself, which looked like a screwdriver, but with a needle at the front, about three centimeters long.

He thrust the needle directly into the woman's shoulder joint, and instantly a horrific scream filled the entire room.

"It's always a difficult choice: family on one side, career or brothers on the other. You always have to choose one."

Devon pursed his lips. "Actually... it's not that you absolutely need to live, it's just that living is the best outcome for us."

Seeing his wife's screams, the cousin, the bureau chief, thought of the child outside the door, and his expression began to show signs of struggle.

Devon continued to put psychological pressure on him and offered some incentives: "As long as you cooperate, you will get a sum of money after everything is over. Then you can take this money, your family, and everything you own and escape far away from here, escape everything."

He pulled out the steel awl and plunged it into the woman's thigh again...

Half an hour later, the cousin, the police chief, finally made a wise decision. He handed over all the evidence to Devon, settled his family, and then boarded the train to Golden State with Devon.

As a suspect in a job-related crime, he is now going to Golden State to surrender to the prosecutors at the federal prosecutor's office.

(End of this chapter)