A Visit

"Contact the Director. Director George has always had a good reputation outside the department. He holds a high position and won't be corrupted by money." Daisy tried to offer a suggestion.

Bright was a little dazed. A lowly patrol officer like him was supposed to contact the Director of the NYPD?

New York had seventy-seven precincts, twelve traffic precincts, and nine housing bureaus. There were over thirty thousand sworn officers alone. What was he in front of the Director?

Besides, reporting above his superiors meant that, no matter how he looked at it, this was a rather serious matter. The Black patrol officer had to weigh how the whole thing would affect him.

"If the Director doesn't listen to my explanation, then I'm finished..." he said to Daisy worriedly.

Daisy knew Director George was a good man, but no one else did. She had no way to explain where her information had come from, so she said nothing and waited for the Black patrol officer to make up his own mind.

"Fine. This is something that should be done. It's my duty! But when the time comes, you have to come with me to meet the Director." After a while, the Black patrol officer seemed to have imagined something. He spoke with firm resolve.

Daisy had no objection. How Bright managed to get in touch with the Director was his problem. She only needed to recount her discoveries again when the time came.

Over the next few days, Daisy was very cautious. She stopped wandering around the streets and instead joined a crash-course Karate class, training there for two days.

After dealing with those gang members last time, she had realized her weakness. She knew absolutely nothing about close-quarters combat, and relying on concussive shockwaves was not a long-term solution.

As a metropolis with a population in the tens of millions, New York naturally had places that taught Eastern martial arts. Xingyi, Wing Chun, Hung Gar—she could find anything she wanted to learn. However, Daisy was short on time and could only choose something simple, easy to learn, and quick to pick up.

Between Taekwondo and Karate, she chose Karate.

That evening, the Black patrol officer, who had vanished for three days, came looking for her.

"Dinner at your Director's house? Bright, you're doing pretty well! Perform well tonight, and a promotion and raise will be no problem." Daisy and the Black patrol officer were now in the same boat, and their relationship had drawn much closer without either of them noticing.

On the way there, Daisy listened to Bright recount what he had been through over the past two days and could not help sighing. This Black brother had really gone all out.

The Black patrol officer had been fairly clever. He did not use the police department's internal email system. Instead, he acted like a reckless fool. Under the strange looks of his colleagues, he ran over and slapped a ticket onto his own Director's official car.

The Director had been dumbfounded. How had a patrol officer this lacking in judgment gotten into the police system? Wanting to look after a junior officer, he stopped the Black patrol officer for a few words. Before he could finish lecturing him, though, he was interrupted. The Black officer seized the chance to quickly explain the entire matter.

The Director was not the sort to believe every rumor he heard. He had not reached his position through sheer hot-blooded passion.

A business of this scale definitely had connections in every direction behind it. He needed more evidence, which was why he had invited them to dinner at his home that evening.

The Director appeared fairly incorruptible. He lived in a high-rise building in Upper Manhattan. The two stepped out of the elevator and rang the doorbell at apartment 2016, where a middle-aged man came to answer the door.

The man was somewhat thin, with blond hair, sharp eyes, and an unsmiling face. Even at home, he wore a suit and tie.

He scrutinized Daisy with his gaze before allowing the two inside.

The Director's wife was very welcoming and called them over to eat.

At the dinner table, Daisy met several other members of the Stacy family. First was the famous Gwen. The blond beauty looked eleven or twelve years old and was developing well. There was a faint hostility toward Daisy in her eyes.

This was a beautiful girl's first reaction upon seeing another beautiful girl, or at least that was what Daisy thought.

There was also a half-grown boy, who looked four or five years old. Daisy remembered that they would have another boy in the future.

At the dining table, she also saw the Stacy family's famous lemon bass.

Honestly, the cooking around here was practically nightmarish. Daisy had been in this world for two months, and aside from the maid's "Chinese cuisine," she had not had a single satisfying meal.

She had been making do with bread and vegetable salads every day. Now that she had finally encountered a proper meal, she immediately began wolfing it down after receiving the signal that they could start eating.

How to eat bass was not even a question for her. Coming from the Land of the Incredible, let alone bass, she could eat an alligator too.

At first, Mrs. Stacy kindly asked whether she had adapted to the local lifestyle and whether she had many friends nearby. But when she saw how happily Daisy was eating, she eventually fell silent as well.

Karate training consumed stamina, and using her powers consumed stamina too. Though Daisy had mentioned it several times, the maid still insisted on delicate, refined cooking. To avoid looking like a glutton, Daisy had not enjoyed a meal in a long time.

Beauty was justice. Even beautiful women could be forgiven for doing bad things, much less simply eating a little more enthusiastically.

She had none of the grace or poise expected of a lady. She simply ate openly and naturally, which instead gave the Director and his wife a better impression of her.

Someone with ulterior motives would not eat so calmly. That was what the Director thought.

This girl looked like she had not eaten in ages. How had she gotten this hungry? That was what the Director's wife thought.

Gwen, who had been keeping up the airs of a proper young lady, was stunned by the sight. Had this person just fled from some disaster zone? She could really eat!

After Daisy had eaten somewhere between a third and nearly half of the food on the table, she wiped her mouth and looked like she was full.

Leaving behind little Gwen's dissatisfied face and her mother to clear the table, Daisy and the Black patrol officer entered the Director's reception room.

"Miss Johnson, can you tell me how you discovered the target?" the Director asked first.

Daisy was not about to say that a perverted old woman had targeted her, that she had killed the woman in retaliation, and that she now needed the police's help to deal with the trouble.

She made up a story about being asked to search for a fellow countryman, then changed the subject. "Director, I have reason to suspect that there are a large number of Chinese diaspora being brutally abused in their underground facility."

"These are the pieces of evidence I gathered, although none of them are direct evidence."

She pulled out a stack of documents from her backpack. There were utility usage records, food delivery truck logs, and several missing-person notices posted online. If she could, she truly wanted to take a photo of Old Mrs. Gao and show it to the Director.

"Officer, this is the person!"

She dearly hoped they would issue a most-wanted warrant, the kind that authorized shooting on sight. Unfortunately, the old woman was very cautious and had never been caught on camera.

Director George examined the documents again and again. Anyone with a brain could tell this was a major case.

The other side might have believed they had protection from the local precinct and had acted with almost no restraint. Much of the evidence was obvious enough that any ordinary citizen could find it.

Without knowing the full story, Director George actually thought Daisy was a fine young girl, full of righteousness!

Director George had seen plenty of people like this, who investigated criminals based on nothing but passionate idealism. Strangely enough, most of them were women.