[Chapter 920: Darkness Can Be Found Everywhere.]
"Listen, buddy, think this through. There are cameras everywhere. Our headquarters can see everything happening right now."
"Cut the chatter, show me the money, or else you're dead."
"Alright, alright, here, take it all."
William White felt frustrated; in just one week, six chain supermarkets had been robbed. The only silver lining was that no one had been hurt.
"Filson, put up a bounty. These guys need to be punished."
"Sir, throwing them in jail might be too lenient. How about letting a security company deal with them?"
Filson didn't take offense to Tanner's interruption; he was feeling the pressure too. After all, they hadn't lost much money, so the police were indifferent.
"No, Tanner, find out if this is organized crime or just a bunch of misfits."
"Okay, I'll look into it."
"Filson, don't take it personally; he's just worried about you."
"Not at all, but boss, this is indeed tough to handle. This kind of thing happens every day."
"A hundred thousand dollars. If we catch them in time, we'll sponsor the police department."
"Cough, boss, isn't that a bit much?"
"No way, one hundred thousand for each, catch one and it's a hundred grand. If one day robbers start fleeing at the sight of a 7-11 sign, I will be extremely happy."
"Fine, if that's what you want."
The Beverly Hills police might not care much about a hundred grand. However, if armed robberies occurred in their jurisdiction, that would be a big deal. If they couldn't catch the criminals fast, the community leaders would be very anxious.
As for the other precincts, they were in no position to complain; there were a lot of cases to handle, and they wished to have more arrests.
In an instant, chaos erupted across much of America.
"Damn it, why did you turn yourself in? Drag him out and give him a beating first! Do you realize we're out of funding?"
A black kid was close to tears; his gang leader threatened him that if he didn't turn himself in, his legs would be broken. And he meant every member of his family.
"Sir, I didn't see any reaction from those guys, but this might blow up."
Before he finished speaking, a loud crash erupted, as a truck smashed into the entrance of the garage they were loitering in.
What happened next left them utterly dumbfounded: dozens of thugs of various skin tones immediately started shooting.
Although they were a bunch of misfits, they were indeed numerous and heavily armed with automatic weapons.
Just as the group found themselves in a desperate retreat, about ten police cars arrived and surrounded the small garage in an instant.
The thugs were surprisingly panicked; they tossed their guns aside and surrendered immediately.
Three dead, twelve injured; that was the FBI's takedown of those thugs. This clearly demonstrated the difference trained personnel made; aside from looking a bit battered, they really weren't too hurt.
Of course, without body armor, at least two would have died. They also began to realize that those outside had no intentions of fighting them.
"Explain why you rob convenience stores? What, didn't you find any promotional items?"
Police actually looked down on the FBI. In their eyes, these clowns just liked to show off without any real utility.
"I want to see your boss."
"Shut up. You don't get to make demands. Do you know that half the city's gangs are on the lookout for you? If you keep talking, I might just release you."
Living in this city could be quite annoying at times. Can't you guys coordinate together? First the CIA, then the FBI; who did I tick off?
American citizens were surprisingly noticing a slight improvement in safety lately. How strange! Just a couple of days ago, that convenience store across the street was robbed. What's going on? No gunfight? Honestly, it felt weirdly unfamiliar.
"Mr. President, I am shocked. No wonder that gigantic fool said we're evil. Can I say he's actually telling the truth?"
"Cough, William, you know there are actions by certain individuals that don't receive approval. To be blunt, I'm just a figurehead to a large extent."
"Alright, I didn't plan to make a fuss. We're all respectable people here. Some dirty elements shouldn't be present; that's just disrespectful."
"By the way, William, I heard your automated warehousing system is excellent. I'd like to schedule a visit."
"I'd be honored; you are welcome any time."
"Great, I'll have the Secret Service arrange that. You know, being president is a high-risk job."
"Yeah, we live in a crazy country."
Many said money could pull strings, a saying that held a lot of truth.
William White never imagined that merely throwing a little cash could stir such a massive reaction.
He had to admit it was quite enjoyable to throw money at problems; whether you were white or black, a quick cash dump would knock anyone out.
Spending a million dollars to cover a loss of only ten grand was certainly devil-may-care. A group of gang leaders had already lost their minds. This was insane--selling laundry detergent didn't require such a big fuss.
William White's request was straightforward: whoever instigated the trouble had to deal with it. If the job was done right, he wouldn't be angry.
Let's not even mention security companies; the gangsters knew very well that if this moneybag wanted to, he could easily bury them with cash.
Why do you always quit halfway through? Wouldn't it be better to send everyone to mining?
Maintaining social order was the responsibility of the local authorities; why would you step in?
Rest assured, if you really did that, it would only make more people anxious. Your threat level would be even higher than it is now, William White.
Society has its divisions; without darkness, there can be no light. If everyone were good, it would be quite dull. Besides, such a utopian society doesn't exist.
The current outcome was favorable; let's not say it would last forever, but for a while, no one bothered 7-11.
Before this, although there weren't many robberies, occasionally taking small things was quite normal.
This wasn't discrimination; a group of small-time criminals found this cool. If they were reprimanded by workers, they would even intentionally cause destruction.
This is the result of lacking social consequences, and at times, William White wondered if having more strong characters around might actually be beneficial.
Aren't you all real tough guys?
Don't be scared.
These guys were annoying; the local store hardly saw any trouble. Of course, 7-11 would be in better shape now.
"Keep those little punks in check, or else you lazybones will have to work. Only through work will you earn respect."
Watching a group of tough guys stream out, his underlings were mostly bruised. Luca felt completely humiliated; hey, I never bothered you guys. Besides, who knew 7-11 was your place?
Of course, now he understood that these people were far less reasonable than expected. Whenever someone bothered their store, they'd come up and have a word with you. What's this? Aren't you the loudest group around? You run this area, right?
Existence justifies its own; the world is that simple. William White didn't want to change anything, but he wouldn't allow anyone to disrupt his plans.
Thus, a strange scene unfolded. Competition is ruthless; William White was not afraid of anyone. If you start trouble first, don't blame me for retaliating.
*****
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