Chapter 137: Enlightenment in Prison

Page (1/3)
Investigation Team No. 5, Interrogation Room.

“Zem Marté is nothing but a bastard raised like a prostitute!”

Licking his somewhat dry lips, Lindro gritted his teeth and said,
“A few years ago, my own younger brother, Paynton, was completely innocent, yet because of that guy, he was sentenced to ten years in prison! That’s why, after I got out, I sent him daily emails to curse him!”

Hearing this, Roan furrowed his brow and tilted his head to look at Mona beside him.

Mona’s fingers danced swiftly across her laptop keyboard, quickly pulling up a rape case.

The gist of the case was “Paynton was sentenced to ten years for rape.”

According to the details in the files, this case was straightforward, with as many as three eyewitnesses.

And Congressman Marté was the prosecutor for this case at the time.

Seeing this, Roan looked up and asked in puzzlement,
“Is there some underlying truth to this case?”

“Of course there is!”

Lindro nodded heavily, his voice filled with rage,
“After one of the court sessions, I found surveillance footage that clearly proved Paynton was nowhere near the crime scene at the time. This footage completely exonerated him!

But after I submitted this footage, Paynton was still sentenced to ten years!

Later, I asked the lawyer about it, and only after threatening him with a gun did the lawyer confess that Zem Marté thought the footage would complicate things, so he destroyed it.”

At this point, Lindro’s eyes reddened, his face dark with fury as he slammed his fist onto the table.

Because of this incident, Lindro was accused of assault with a deadly weapon and ended up imprisoned on Rikers Island.

Meanwhile, his brother Paynton died in prison due to unforeseen circumstances, never making it to the end of his sentence.

After his release, Lindro sought to avenge his brother.

But his first obstacle was a lack of money.

After much thought, Lindro decided to use the skills he had learned while meditating in prison to make bombs.

He planned to sell those bombs to other criminals and make money from them.

After some time, due to the variety, power, and affordable price of the bombs he produced, Lindro began receiving orders from various underground factions and talents throughout New York, keeping him constantly busy.

."

After Lindro’s narration, Mona twitched the corner of her mouth, and Roan looked utterly speechless.

After a moment of silence, Roan decided to have Lindro write down the names of those who had purchased bombs, hoping for some unexpected leads.

Clearing his throat, Roan continued,
“You said you learned the bomb-making techniques in prison, so are you saying this explosion case was the work of someone inside there?”

“Exactly, it was him!”

Lindro nodded firmly, his expression grave,
“Even if it wasn’t him directly, it definitely involves him.

Because this guy loves to teach bomb-making knowledge for free to interested inmates during outdoor exercise periods.

The bombs I made were all secondary improvements and modifications based on his knowledge.”

Hearing this, Roan sighed deeply.

Indeed, prison is truly a center for talent exchange.

“What’s that guy’s name?”

“Brent Harry.”

—

Page (2/3)
Investigation Team No. 5, Office Area.

Mona’s fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, while Roan sat at his desk, spinning around in his chair.

“The forensic department’s report shows that the bomb used at the press conference was made of the same outer materials as the bombs found in Lindro’s workshop, but the battery used was different.”

“That’s right.”

William leaned closer with a smile,
“The bomb at the press conference used lithium batteries, which Lindro never uses in his bombs.

But the bombs made by Brent Harry all used lithium batteries.”

“Not only that, I just reviewed Brent Harry’s case files.”

Lacey approached holding a folder, handing it to Roan with a smile,
“Some details inside show that the bomb-maker’s signature techniques at the press conference are nearly 90% similar to Brent Harry’s,

while the similarity to Lindro’s methods is less than 20%.”

After long practice in bomb-making, Lindro had broken free from Brent’s knowledge limitations, evolving his own methods and experience.

Looking down at the folder, Roan looked up with a smile,
“It seems the information Lindro provided is quite valuable; this case is indeed related to Brent Harry.”

“Okay!”

At that moment, Mona stopped typing and turned to Roan with a smile,
“We’ve coordinated with Rikers Island Prison. We can interrogate Brent Harry right away.”

“Good.”

Roan nodded with satisfaction, immediately taking Lacey to the equipment storage before leaving Team No. 5 and heading to the parking lot downstairs.

—

Rikers Island Prison, a room inside.

Roan and Lacey waited briefly before a burly guard escorted in a gaunt, middle-aged white man with a long beard.

Upon entering, Brent Harry glanced at Roan and Lacey, sitting casually across from them, and asked,
“Good afternoon, two FBI agents. What brings you to see me?”

Without wasting words, Roan replied directly,
“We’re investigating a bombing case.”

“Wow.”

Page (3/3)

Hearing this, Brent shrugged and smiled,
“What does that have to do with me? I have a perfect alibi for the bombing you mentioned.”

Roan nodded,
“But the bomb has your signature techniques.”

Brent raised an eyebrow,
“Although I’m skilled in bombs, I’ve been here the whole time. There’s no way I could have gone out to detonate a bomb. You’re definitely after the wrong man.”

Lacey pressed further,
“Then who have you taught? Who has learned your bomb-making skills?”

Brent shook his head,
“No one. I’ve never taught anyone.”

“Harry, spare us the easily pierced lies.”

Hearing this, Roan folded his hands calmly before him and smiled faintly,
“Our visit today means we already have evidence linking you. Given this, do you really think we’ll just let it go?”

“What can you do then?”

Brent’s face was full of disdain,
“I’m already serving life imprisonment. What more can you do to me?”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed slightly, while Roan’s smile grew wider—he loved dealing with stubborn people like this.

“We can transfer you to another prison.”

At this, Brent’s expression instantly stiffened.

“For example, the ADX Federal Prison in Colorado.”

Roan studied Brent carefully and said,
“You’ve probably heard of it. If not, here’s a brief introduction:

Inmates there get only nine hours outside their cells to see the sun each week; the rest of the time, they’re confined to dark cells...”

Brent’s face flushed with anger, eyes blazing.

Roan pretended not to notice, spreading his hands and grinning,
“Want to give it a try?”

“Fu-k!”

At this, Brent finally lost his composure. He slammed his hand heavily on the table, standing up abruptly,
“Do you think such words can scare me?”

(End of chapter)