Chapter 670: Summons

After breakfast, the Detective Agency was pretty much “all out” today, with only essential personnel remaining behind.

The main force headed straight for the Dock Area. Agents who had already left to deliver goods to restaurants would later rendezvous. "Slingshot" appeared to be leading the team, but in reality, Doug was in charge of the specific command, with Inessa also present as a stabilizing force.

Lina’s intelligence team usually didn't stay overnight at the workshop and wasn't with the main force now. They would still not participate publicly in the operation, only providing support from the shadows.

As for Wayne himself, he set off alone in a carriage driven by Sanders, essentially a lone commander.

His task was to lead a team at the Police Station. Today, a group of police officers would be dispatched to support the "Tax Officers of City Hall," helping to summon members of the Sailor Gang and the Ireland Violent Group who had been named for questioning. The Police Chief had promised no fewer than twenty officers.

Even without counting the police reinforcement, this was the largest single operation the Detective Agency had undertaken so far.

During the small meeting to arrange things last night, Connal had been puzzled: “Do we need such a strong military deployment to deal with two ordinary gangs?”

Wayne felt that Connal’s performance in the Arena was already excellent, but if he were to lead a team alone, he might still need to brush up on his humanities and perhaps take fewer physical education classes.

Nevertheless, Wayne patiently explained: “Our people are going there this time not to deal with gangs, but to maintain order.”

Of course, it wouldn't take so many people to deal with just two gangs, but the Detective Agency also had its own "necessity."

When Tax Officer Quinn took Wayne to see the Police Chief, some things had already been stated upfront.

In those days, the public's default assessment of America’s city police, while far from being "mostly negative," was at least "mixed reviews." Their credibility was even lower than that of a Sheriff elected by townspeople in a small town.

Assisting with summons without concrete evidence was legally a bit of a gray area. Therefore, to minimize negative impact, the Police Station's cooperation with City Hall came with a condition: they would only "act according to the rules." If the other party didn't violently resist, the police couldn't treat them as criminals.

After all, some citizens might be timid when facing gangs, but they would often genuinely go all out when complaining about the city police.

And the police usually just had to tolerate it, because this was where the America Federation now prided itself on being more "free" than Old Continent countries like the Windsor Kingdom.

Furthermore, the gang situation in the Dock Area was no secret to the local police.

Collecting taxes from gangs was certainly a matter of public justice for the entire city, but if they were too prominent in doing so, then those who made personal enemies with certain powerful figures in the city would become themselves.

So, the police would actively cooperate on the surface, but in reality, they wouldn't be overly enthusiastic. More often, they were taking a side and showing their stance, demonstrating support for City Hall.

And for the Detective Agency, there had to be a limit to "killing a chicken to warn the monkeys" and "driving a tiger to swallow a wolf."

Wayne felt that he would eventually offend most of the gangs in the Dock Area, and he wouldn't feel any psychological burden even watching them beat each other's brains out.

However, the operation of the Dock Area was one of the cornerstones of Richmond's commercial prosperity. If gang conflicts spilled over and affected too many innocent laborers, and things got chaotic, not to mention the Cathedral's potential objections, even City Hall might jump out and distance itself from Wayne.

Therefore, fighting and killing among gang members could be ignored, but if they extensively mobilized unrelated people or harmed innocent parties, timely intervention would be necessary to prevent the spread and cycle of "blood for blood."

Doug was more perceptive than Connal in this regard. After a moment's thought, he said, "This must be what you called 'killing a chicken to warn the monkeys' when you taught at the Detective Agency, sir, right?"

Wayne nodded: "That's pretty much it. However, the Ireland Violent Group has significant influence in the Dock Area, and while the Sailor Gang is medium-sized in terms of personnel, their level of violence is not low. You could also say it's 'killing monkeys to warn chickens.' If even gangs can't go too far, then ordinary people should be less likely to be incited by ambitious individuals."

So, everything was ready, and everyone was in position.

...

The actual level of support from the Police Station was greater than Wayne had anticipated; they actually deployed thirty police officers and arranged six tin carriages, each capable of holding at least ten people.

The team leader was also no stranger; it was Sheriff William, whom Wayne was quite familiar with.

The group first arrived at the Sailor Gang's territory, Wayne's favorite, and surprisingly, the Sailor Gang was quite cooperative. Their leader personally brought his subordinates and waited in their stronghold, almost lining up to applaud their arrival.

Although the number of people was clearly incorrect, it wasn't by much; at least two-thirds of their forces were there.

The guy didn't even utter a single insult and very cooperatively got into the carriage.

The other thugs followed suit, smoothly getting in under the guidance of the officers, even easier to manage than a tour group with mischievous children.

Wayne didn't care what tricks they were planning. He led the Red Armbands to cordon off the Sailor Gang's stronghold amidst the onlookers, then left Lina and a few Agents to collect evidence.

The Ireland Violent Group was even more absurd. As Wayne and his team approached the community where the Irish lived, they saw a group of people already waiting on the main road.

The officers were initially wary, unsure if they were members of the Ireland Violent Group organized to block the road.

But after a brief inquiry, they learned that this large group was actually from the Rabbit Gang, claiming to be there to assist City Hall in collecting taxes. When they asked for the leader's name, it turned out to be the gang boss himself leading the team.

What the hell?

Is something not right here?

If you were to rank the gangs in the Dock Area, if the Ireland Violent Group, which managed the Irish community, was considered the "most influential," then the Rabbit Gang, which operated the bar street and the sex industry, was widely recognized as having the "most thriving side businesses." They usually had a bit of a "kings don't meet kings" vibe.

These two gangs didn't have adjacent territories, their business scopes didn't seem to conflict, and Wayne hadn't even involved them when stirring up trouble. Yet, they had come all this way to kick in a door?

Was the Ireland Violent Group hated enough, or did they also have a long-standing feud?

Sheriff William also seemed surprised by their appearance. Wayne thought for a moment and then invited their boss into the carriage, intending to lay down the law first:

"Mr. Paul, although collecting taxes from the vibrant civilian organizations in the Dock Area is indeed the intention of City Hall, if anyone uses this to create conflict and cause public disorder, I'm afraid it won't meet the expectations of all sectors of Richmond regarding this operation, and the responsible individuals will likely face severe punishment."

The leader of the Rabbit Gang was only known by this title; his specific name was unknown. According to rumors, he was a self-made orphan from the Dock Area who started at thirty and became a powerful figure with a large enterprise in just ten years. His actual value was far higher than those gangs still fighting, grabbing territory, and exploiting laborers.

Such stories, of course, could only fool ordinary people. If he didn't have support behind him, living such a good life, he might have died countless times. Unfortunately, the intelligence team currently hadn't figured out who was behind him. It wasn't that they couldn't find anything at all, but rather that the rumors involved too many local big figures, and the information was contaminated.

Mr. Paul's reply, however, was very straightforward: "I am very aware of this, so after hearing that Mr. Wayne's Red Armbands seemed to be few in number, I specifically brought people to assist. All actions of our gang are solely out of good intentions, and we will fully cooperate with Mr. Wayne's tax collection work during this period, absolutely not intentionally causing conflict."

Another ally has appeared? No one told me in advance.

Wayne wasn't entirely sure: "Frankly, from what I know of the Dock Area, if additional taxes are to be collected, your gang should be among, if not the most, severely affected in the Dock Area. Originally, I expected that investigating your gang's income would probably be no easier than investigating the Ireland Violent Group."

Mr. Pryor nodded, "Indeed. I've estimated it myself, and just based on the books, I'm likely to be the largest contributor to the City Hall's tax collection this time."

"But..." Wayne started for him, waiting for him to make his own turn and get to the point.

The fellow, however, lowered his head and rubbed the large gemstone ring on his hand. Wayne quietly activated his Simple Lines vision; there was no extraordinary reaction.

Then he spoke unhurriedly: "I wonder, Mr. Wayne, if you've heard this little story.

"One day, an old and a young robber, after getting some money, secretly snuck into a small town to relax. As they passed the Police Station, they saw a gallows set up on the street.

"The young robber said, 'This thing is truly our nemesis. How wonderful our lives would be without it!' — Do you know what the old robber answered him?"

Wayne didn't want to guess, so he casually asked, "What did he answer?"

"After hearing this, the old robber shook his head and said to the young robber, 'Wrong. This thing is our benefactor. Without it, who knows how many people would come to snatch our rice bowls!'"

What the heck?

Although he knew he was avoiding the question,

after a little thought, it actually seemed to make some twisted sense.

...

Out of caution, the Rabbit Gang members were still temporarily kept outside the community.

The situation in the community was the opposite of the Sailor Gang's. Wayne had notified O'Sullivan of the Ireland Violent Group in advance, but O'Sullivan's side seemed to have made no preparations at all.

The residents living there initially seemed surprised by the large number of police officers entering, then became a collective, indifferent spectacle.

They didn't completely block the road, but like a swarm of ants finding food, more and more people slowly gathered around a row of carriages, moving along with the forced-to-slow-down convoy, creating a silent sense of pressure.

Aside from some street hooligans, most of the able-bodied laborers seemed to be at work at this time. The crowd consisted of elderly, weak, women, and children. No one questioned, no one blocked, and their faces showed no expression.

...It made Wayne feel like he was Stephen Chow in "Kung Fu Hustle," pretending to be the Axe Gang entering Pig Sty Alley.

Sheriff William seemed a bit scared, and halfway through, he slipped into Wayne's carriage, "Mr. Wayne, I think the residents' reaction is not right. There are already at least a hundred people gathered. If we clash with them, we'll be in big trouble."

Wayne was originally a bit flustered. The main force of the Agents wasn't participating in the summons; they were probably familiarizing themselves with the terrain of the Dock Area in batches. Lina's group would come later, but they were still with the Sailor Gang at the moment.

In the convoy right now, besides Wayne and Sanders, and the Sailor Gang members who had walked into the tin carriage themselves, everyone else was from the Police Station. If something really happened, Wayne might not be able to completely avoid casualties.

But he stared at Sheriff William for a few moments, then relaxed, "It's fine. They haven't blocked the road, and our target isn't them. Let's just slowly move forward."

—Sheriff William's panic was feigned. His expression looked the part, but his body showed none of the physiological reactions of someone in a state of panic.

If a person genuinely feels threatened, adrenaline secretion increases, and the body enters a "fight or flight" state. Breathing and heart rate will change. People in the West, having more experience watching duels, can sometimes tell at a glance "who wants to fight" or "who chickened out."

He probably knew about it beforehand.

By the time they reached O'Sullivan's doorstep, the crowd had squeezed to within a meter of the carriages. The area was a dense mass of people, looking at first glance like a rally.

O'Sullivan also played his part well, as if very surprised by Wayne and the police's visit. It was only after his subordinates helped announce their arrival that he appeared at the door a few minutes later.

The two young police officers who had knocked on the door now looked genuinely nervous under everyone's gaze. Their faces were paler than usual, their steps faltering, and their voices trembled slightly.

The situation of the other dismounted police officers was not much better. It felt like the Police Station hadn't dispatched any elite forces, but simply gathered people. They were not as "seasoned" as some of the police officers Wayne had encountered earlier in the Dock Area.

Seeing O'Sullivan clear his throat, seemingly preparing to address the crowd in the community,

Wayne, conversely, had experience handling such situations. He usually didn't wear Red Armbands much before, but now he quickly pulled out a spare from under the seat and put it on to increase visibility for everyone.

Then, before O'Sullivan could formally speak, Wayne climbed directly onto the roof of his own carriage, even doing a small jump, instantly snatching the microphone:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Wayne Constantine, a Special Tax Investigator appointed by the City Hall. We are currently auditing the historical tax collection in the Dock Area and have the authority to request the cooperation of suspicious individuals in our investigation. Our actions are not directed at any specific organization or group, and the gentlemen in the carriage who have voluntarily accepted the summons are proof of this."

The Sailor Gang members, who had been watching the show with schadenfreude from inside the tin carriage, had several faces peeking out from the barred windows.

Now, suddenly pointed out by Wayne, the crowd's gaze collectively pierced towards them, and those faces quickly retracted.

Wayne seized the opportunity to quickly throw out the most crucial question in public, "Mr. O'Sullivan, are you going to openly resist the police summons?"

A silence fell over the scene.

O'Sullivan didn't fall into the trap, and instead asked, "Do you have a formal summons?"

"Yes!" Wayne answered decisively.

The person pushing this matter was Tax Officer Quinn, a seasoned professional who had been in the workplace for many years.

Regardless of how things were handled, there would certainly be no problems with the procedures and formalities.

—Wayne guessed.

One certainly couldn't lose momentum. He could always make up for it later.

Fortunately, O'Sullivan didn't press further. Instead, he raised his arms, wrists together, "All right, I'm willing to accept the summons. Take me away."

"It's just assisting with an investigation; you're not a criminal yet. Even if you were to commit a crime, you'd have the opportunity to apply for bail and wouldn't be detained indefinitely without cause. At most, it's a matter of a day or two." Wayne also didn't fall into his trap, making a "please" gesture towards the tin carriage.

Hmph, when it comes to stirring up a crowd, how could you have more tricks than a mayor taught?

Even if they haven't received systematic training, they've been exposed to it since childhood. They'd know what you're trying to do just by the way you move.

It's nothing more than trying to change the subject or feign injustice to incite public anger, and then attempt to force the police officers to retreat or something.

At times like this, pretending to be objective and not personal is most effective, telling everyone that the outcome isn't that bad, at least the consequences won't be more severe than open defiance, and it's not worth causing trouble over.

Wayne was betting on the Ireland Violent Group's standing in the Secretary of State's eyes. If Mr. Pryor believed that maintaining the local political face was more important, then he wouldn't allow the gangs under him to openly defy authority.

And judging by the fact that the City Hall's administrative order for tax collection was passed, at least O'Sullivan himself wasn't that important.

—If there was going to be trouble, it would probably be done behind the scenes, just like last time.

Sure enough, only a handful of gang members, maybe three or four, followed O'Sullivan into the tin carriage, even less sincere than the Sailor Gang.

Sanders pulled up the cordon, Wayne casually pulled a letter from the carriage, pretending it was a sealed document, dabbed it with holy water, and slapped it on the door. Done.

With so few people from the Ireland Violent Group gone, and O'Sullivan now having an alibi endorsed by the police, many gangs were still stirring.

It was probably going to be a chaotic couple of days.