Lake.
He had served in the military. Afterward, he had relied on the military's free education program to enter Yale University through a direct interview during the year he was discharged, where he cultivated his artistic talents.
So...
Although his major had been different, Lake's personal business card still bore the words "Graduate of Yale University."
As everyone knew, in the Federation's political circles and law-enforcement agencies, if they were divided by academic factions, Yale held an absolutely dominant position.
But...
Maureen frowned. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk much about your time at Yale."
Lake's gaze lingered for a moment on the section containing Jefferson Hall's home address. Then he closed the documents in front of him and smiled. "There shouldn't be much to talk about."
Every day, he had been busy finding ways to work and study, earning money for lottery draws. At one point, he had even gone to the medical school to help conduct an experiment just to make up the twenty thousand dollars he was short.
To put it simply...
Other people's college years were filled with romance and beautiful memories. Lake's college years were filled with sweat from working hard.
So...
There was nothing worth remembering, much less anything worth telling. If there was one thing worth mentioning, it was that, while working his way through school, many people had learned that there was a student in the art department named Lake who worked every waking moment, yet was so stingy that he could not bear to order an extra-topping deluxe hamburger in the cafeteria.
From a certain perspective, Lake could also be considered one of Yale's prominent figures.
Among the students from his year, as well as those before and after him, he was still fairly well-known.
Maureen nodded inwardly and looked at the documents Lake had put away. "What are you planning to do next?"
"What am I planning to do?"
Lake shrugged. What else could he do?
Of course, after eating his fill, he would visit this lawyer and have a good talk with him, trying to reach an agreement on a certain issue.
And if they could not reach one?
Heh.
The Confucians said to repay hatred with virtue. Lake would repay violence with violence.
No matter how much scheming was involved, once a person was gone, all matters would come to an end.
Lake liked simple, crude methods. They did not require so much brainpower.
Of course.
He definitely could not put it that way.
Lake smiled and said to Maureen, "What can I do? Learn more about my opponent and leave the rest to fate. After all, I've been suspended again. I can't exactly run to this man's home and have a nice chat with him. What if you open the door and shoot me? Wouldn't I die for nothing?"
This place had both the Stand Your Ground Law and the Castle Law.
If you entered someone else's home without permission and they killed you, you would have died for nothing.
Maureen did not believe Lake at all. She still reminded him, "You know that yourself. The entire police department, including the FBI, is searching for that killer. Besides, I heard that some other department has also gotten involved in this incident."
Lake blinked and looked at Maureen. "Someone else? The Department of Homeland Security?"
Maureen shook her head. "No. Those two have already been killed. At the very least, they have no opportunity to target you from outside anymore. Their only possibility now is to target you from within. But clearly, Chief Burt won't let that happen."
As Lake listened to Maureen, his heart tightened slightly.
If it was not the Department of Homeland Security, then what other law-enforcement agency was there?
That organization with a shield on the outside and a snake within?
But...
If that was the case, how had Maureen found out? "I heard" was supposed to make him believe her?
Lake thought this to himself, then shook his head.
Whatever department it was, on New York soil, every other agency had to lie low. Whether it was a dragon or a tiger, it had to crouch.
The NYPD was the only law-enforcement agency in New York with absolute priority in enforcement.
Before long...
Just as Lake continued thinking, Maureen's phone rang.
She answered it.
Lake watched as his girlfriend, Maureen, walked over to the balcony to take the call. After a while, she returned from the balcony. "I'm leaving first. Take care of yourself. I heard that someone downstairs has already found out you're here. Some people are furious."
After White plus Black's death, even though the NYPD had released surveillance footage of the killer immediately and held a press conference stating that it would spare no effort to apprehend this madman who had committed murder in broad daylight...
But...
Some people of a certain skin color could not even be bothered to listen. Given the happy education they had received, it was difficult for them to calmly accept other people's opinions, much less the truth.
They only looked at what they had seen and the truth they had imagined for themselves.
And their truth was that this was a massive conspiracy, that the NYPD was the thief crying "Stop, thief," staging the whole thing to protect its own people.
And they had evidence.
The evidence was that, apart from the dead White plus Black at the scene, no one else had died. Even the three officers had only been injured and had not lost their lives.
In their eyes, this was the best proof. Otherwise, why had the people being protected only been injured while the person being protected had died?
That was ironclad evidence.
And so...
These people instantly reached a fever pitch. After dinner, they began surrounding the NYPD and Starlight Tower, shouting slogans demanding that the hidden truth be thoroughly investigated.
Even...
After learning that Lake's apartment was in Starlight Tower, the little Blacks seemed to become even more excited. After all, Starlight Tower, as an apartment building for a special single skin color, had already left a deep impression on New Yorkers.
Other New Yorkers regarded Starlight Tower as a spectacle.
But some extremist little Blacks described Starlight Tower as a pillar of shame in the new era.
What?
Why had they not reached a fever pitch immediately?
What nonsense. Protesting was a tradition, but eating was essential. They could not come to protest on empty stomachs. After all, not every protest could successfully turn into a looting spree.
As for how Lake's address had been leaked?
Heh.
It had undoubtedly been those unscrupulous media outlets.
But...
Lake took a piece of paper from his pocket. After adding a name to it, he folded it back up and returned it to his pocket.
Go ahead and jump.
The more enthusiastically they jumped, the less they should complain when the reckoning came that it had all been "just a job."
Soon...
Maureen left.
Lake walked into the living room, switched on the monitor, and adjusted it to the area outside the entrance of Starlight Tower. He watched the group of little Blacks shouting outside yet not daring to take even one step inside Starlight Tower, an undisguised trace of mockery appearing at the corners of his mouth.
A bunch of useless trash.
The security team of Starlight Tower was already standing by in the lobby. As long as the little Blacks outside dared to come in, they would dare to open fire directly.
And they would do so without the slightest hesitation.
As mentioned before, some extremists regarded Starlight Tower as a segregation building of the new era, so it was not as if there had never been terrorist actions targeting Starlight Tower.
But...
To put it this way...
Over the years, the Starlight Tower security team had shot and killed more than a dozen little Blacks inside the building. It might not have been a hundred, but it was certainly more than ten.
Afraid?
Forget that this was justified self-defense under the Castle Law. Just consider one thing: the guards could kill as they pleased, and if there was a lawsuit, all the residents would contribute the money. Let them sue. Who was afraid of whom? It was merely a matter of financial strength, and the people living in Starlight Tower had never been afraid of anyone.
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