Chapter 85: The Truth About the Laundry Shop Owner (Please Subscribe! Please Vote!)

"Roan!"

Ignoring the two white youths writhing on the ground in pain, Mona searched them for guns, ammunition, and driver’s licenses, then looked deeply at Roan and said irritably, “You were moving way too fast earlier. That’s extremely dangerous! What if you’d been hit? We’re FBI agents, not a SWAT team!”

When she saw Roan charge toward the stairwell at breakneck speed just moments ago, Mona was first shocked by his agility, then gripped by anxiety, deeply afraid that when she reached the stairs, she’d find Roan lying motionless.

Roan was certainly fully armed, but bullets don’t discriminate; who could say if one might strike him at a strange angle and hit a vital spot? Incidents like that have happened countless times across America’s vast land.

“Alright, it won’t happen again,” Roan replied with a sheepish grin, seeing the seriousness in Mona’s expression. He didn’t argue further, instead shifting the topic, suggesting Mona use the driver’s licenses to check the two men’s identities.

Mona shot Roan a glare but turned to head downstairs and retrieve her laptop from the SUV.

Next, Roan stepped firmly onto the wounded arm of the youth on the left and demanded harshly, “Tell me, why are you here? Why did you open fire on us?”

“F—”

Having been shot once in the back and twice in the arms, the youth was already suffering unbearable pain. Now, with Roan’s foot pressing down on his wounded arm, he managed only the first letter of a curse before passing out from agony.

Roan sneered and turned to the youth on the right.

The second youth was trembling all over from the pain in his arm. He looked up at Roan’s cold, ruthless gaze, realizing Roan had no intention of calling an ambulance. His body shook even harder.

Seeing the hesitation and fear on the youth’s face, Roan began to suspect their true identities. Coldly, he said, “If you don’t talk, you’ll be meeting your maker in a few minutes. If you do, maybe you’ll live to die of old age.”

The youth froze at that. They’d fired first; even if they bled out on the spot, the FBI would likely just get administrative leave afterward. He hurriedly replied, “I’m Harry, he’s Dominic. We’re just here looking for someone today, didn’t mean to clash with you FBI agents. You called out to us, we panicked and fired instinctively. Please, call an ambulance!”

“Searching for someone makes you this nervous? When questioned by the FBI, you chose to open fire? Lying to an FBI agent is a serious crime!”

Roan’s brow furrowed as he took out his phone and waved it in front of Harry, saying coldly, “You’d better think carefully.”

Harry was twenty-one, poorly educated, and his character could be summed up in four words: bullying the weak, fearing the strong.

Faced with a life-or-death moment, Harry trembled in terror. Recalling Roan’s earlier words, he spilled everything: “We’re just here to collect money from the Elkin family!”

Harry explained that he was a member of a small gang in the nearby streets, the Black River Gang, having joined less than three months ago. One of the gang’s businesses was lending money.

Recently, Elkin borrowed a large sum from them. Today, their boss sent the two of them to remind Elkin about the repayment deadline.

As for the shooting, Harry said Dominic was the instigator—he had killed before. When Dominic told him to shoot, Harry did so instinctively.

“Elkin borrowed money from you?” Roan was taken aback, then asked, “When did this happen?”

“Just last week!”

Roan narrowed his eyes, recalling that Elkin had also borrowed money from the Hyena Gang before and repaid it quickly. Now it was clear.

Elkin was playing the game of borrowing from one loan to pay another!

But Roan was puzzled; how could Elkin dare to play such tricks with gang money? It was entirely out of character for Elkin.

“You first said you were looking for someone, then that you were collecting money.” Roan tilted his head, noticing the contradiction, and grinned, “So which is true?”

“The second one is true!” Harry, trembling harder, stammered, “Last night, Elkin got into a conflict with one of our gang members at a nearby supermarket and was accidentally shot. This morning, our people in the area saw Elkin put his parents in the car, so the boss guessed he was planning to run with the money. The boss sent people to intercept their car and brought the family back to our bar. Not long after, the boss sent us to Elkin’s house to look for the money.”

Harry’s face grew paler as he spoke, and by the end, he looked as if he might faint.

Seeing this, Roan immediately sent Mona a message from his phone.

Moments later, several paramedics arrived with stretchers, loaded the two wounded men, and took them away in an ambulance.

Actually, when Mona went downstairs to check their identities using the driver’s licenses, Roan had already asked her to call the nearest hospital for an ambulance, urging them to hurry.

The ambulance sped away. Mona, sitting in the SUV’s passenger seat, glanced at Roan, who was notifying the NYPD, and asked, “Did they confess?”

Roan nodded. The story wasn’t complicated.

Recently, for reasons unknown, Elkin had started borrowing from gangs, not just one—the Hyena Gang, the Black River Gang, both. Even more outrageous, Elkin was using borrowed gang money to juggle debts.

Roan, having lived two lifetimes, had never heard of such a thing.

At the time of the sixth bank robbery, Elkin was borrowing from the Black River Gang.

In the earlier surveillance footage, Elkin returned to the laundromat four hours after the sixth robbery, carrying a brown bag. According to Harry, the bag contained the money borrowed from the Black River Gang.

The night before last, for unknown reasons, Elkin sold the laundromat.

Last night, on his way home, Elkin got into another conflict with the Black River Gang and was shot by them.

Elkin didn’t realize it was an accident; he thought the gang had discovered his juggling of loans. His plan to drive his daughter to school was suddenly scrapped, and he decided to flee with his family.

But halfway, the gang boss sent people to intercept them.

“So what now?” Mona asked, her brows twitching in disbelief. She’d never seen anyone so bold.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and soon she located the Black River Gang’s bar, just a ten-minute drive away.

“Call Norton in Organized Crime, have him contact SWAT,” Roan said, rubbing his temples in exasperation. He’d thought Elkin was a bank robber, but it turned out he was juggling gang loans. During the robberies, Elkin was actually borrowing money. The contrast was absurd.

Mona nodded, then frowned slightly. “So this case isn’t really related to the bank robbery. Did we come here for nothing?”

“No,” Roan shook his head, smiling at Mona. “We have a chance to rescue Selina, the prospective college student, from the gang. It’s not a wasted trip.”

Roan sensed Mona’s envy toward Elkin’s daughter, Selina, and recalling Mona’s family background, he couldn’t help but feel some understanding.

Sure enough, upon hearing Roan’s words, Mona’s hands paused on the keyboard, and a smile touched her lips.

Dear readers, the author bows deeply! I’m truly sorry for today and the coming week. My boss has sent me on a business trip, so updates will be delayed.

(The end of this chapter)