20demayo Chapter 70 School Launches, Osborn Group Files Police Report
Chapter 70 School Launches, Osborn Group Files Police Report
Chapter 70 School Launches, Osborn Group Files Police Report
When Li En returned to the police station, he went straight to the innermost compartment of the weapons warehouse.
He locked the door and began taking things out of the storage space.
G virus samples, T virus samples, Shirley's serum, Elpis's medicine, and hard drives and documents smuggled from the sanatorium and BSAA camp were stacked one by one on the iron shelf.
Finally, a metal combination lock box was placed on top, containing a tube of Erpis.
After locking everything, he stepped back to the doorway and glanced around.
As I came out of the warehouse, I ran into Brock.
Brock wore a rare expression.
His lips were upturned, and the wrinkles around his eyes were deep. It wasn't the kind of suppressed smug smile that comes from catching a criminal; it was genuine joy.
"Li En, the mayor fully supports the school's affairs and is giving it the green light all the way."
He walked over with a half-beat quicker pace than usual.
"They've found an abandoned building next to Hell's Kitchen, on West 35th Street."
"With a little tidying up, it could be directly converted into a school; you know that place."
"What about the price?"
"Extremely low." Brock's eyes lit up when he said those two words, but then the smile on his face faded slightly. "But 9..."
"The school's affairs need to be tied to his election campaign, right?"
Brock did not deny it.
There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world, and politicians like mayors are even less likely to do charity.
His enthusiasm shows that he needs this card right now.
Hell's Kitchen has gained a new non-profit school, and since he spearheaded it, his campaign posters will have an extra line of text.
In a tense election, this line of text might be more useful than any other word.
However, the extremely low price still exceeded Li En's assessment of the mayor.
That's the kind of person who plucks feathers from a passing goose.
There's only one possibility that would make someone like this sell land and buildings at such a low price.
"Is his campaign not going well?"
"That's right." Brock nodded.
"His rivals have threatened to take action against the docks and turn Hell's Kitchen into a tourist destination to eliminate gangs."
"The campaign slogan is: Make New York Great Again."
After listening, Li En remained silent for a moment.
"Isn't he afraid of falling into the river and drowning tomorrow?"
Even Lee Eun herself wouldn't say such a thing in public.
Hell's Kitchen is more than just gangsters and docks; it's a microcosm of all of New York City.
Gangs are present in every district of this city, and they are deeply interconnected.
Politicians can't possibly be unaware of this.
Those who can compete with the incumbent mayor should be well aware of these things.
Anyone who dares to make such a bold statement is either a clueless idiot or has no intention of fulfilling it at all.
The slogan is just for voters; once they actually sit in that chair, they'll live their lives the same way they always have.
"It will all fizzle out in the end," Brock shook his head.
"That guy came from somewhere else. I don't know why he came to New York to run for office. I don't know the specifics, but it's definitely not a good thing."
His tone carried the deep-seated indifference of an old policeman towards politicians.
He'd heard campaign promises for most of his life, but he'd hardly ever seen any of them fulfilled.
Occasionally someone does do something, but it's only in the peripheral or minor aspects.
Therefore, most people share his mentality: they have no hope.
Of course, the money politicians throw out during the election campaign does go into their own pockets, so most people are still willing to cast a vote.
"I heard about what happened at the hospital. Barron compared the photos, and those two people are indeed CIA agents."
Brock turned the conversation to Frank, his face darkening.
"But the information from the Iron Anvil Security team didn't uncover any dirt on them."
"The hard drive was completely destroyed; Barron is still trying to recover it."
"If we can't find the evidence, Frank's case will be very troublesome."
Attacking a gang is one thing, attacking a licensed security company is quite another.
Without evidence, Frank would have to go to jail.
"Don't worry, I have another way," Li En nodded in response.
There's definitely something wrong with the security at the anvil; Frank wouldn't act without a reason.
Since the police station can't dig up any dirt on us, let's go to hotels in mainland China to gather intelligence.
The intelligence system there is much more useful than the police department's database.
Brock nodded and didn't ask any further questions.
He steered the conversation back to the school: "We've got the land and the building, but just cleaning and renovation will cost over a million, and you even promised a free lunch."
"Including faculty and staff salaries and various supplies, the start-up capital will need to be at least one or two million to get things done."
He glanced at Li En, then hesitated slightly.
He was wondering whether he should advise Li En to give up.
They set up a foundation as a formality, avoiding taxes and saving money as usual.
There's no need to drag yourself into such a heavy burden just to build a school.
But he didn't say those words aloud.
Because deep down, he wanted Lee Eun to persevere.
The foundation is just a business venture; the school is changing Hell's Kitchen.
Lee En had her hands in her pockets and spoke calmly.
"This is a charity school in Hell's Kitchen."
"I think every company doing business in Hell's Kitchen should do its part."
"Brock, contact the heads of the various gangs and get them to contribute to charity."
Brock's eyes lit up.
The reason he hadn't mentioned this approach before was because he was worried that Li En wouldn't be willing.
After all, Lee En and Frank's previous killings of gangsters were irreconcilable and left no room for compromise.
"Let me add one more thing," Li En continued, "We won't do anything that violates our bottom line, but everything else is fine."
Brock understood.
Gangs conduct many kinds of transactions at the docks. Drugs and human trafficking are the bottom line, but they also deal in pirated CDs, untaxed alcohol, and counterfeit designer clothing, shoes, and bags.
These items flowed into Hell's Kitchen, actually allowing many people who couldn't afford the originals to use what they needed.
Once the bottom line is clearly defined, the rest can be overlooked. This way, the gangs can continue to make money, and the schools can also get their share.
Neither side loses out.
"Understood." Brock nodded emphatically.
"Actually, the biggest players here are the Amick Cartel, the Mexican Cartel, the Razor Claws, and the Irish Cartel."
"As long as the bottom line is clearly defined, this matter can be discussed."
He didn't expect that Li En wasn't a simple-minded person.
When it's time to kill, we're ruthless; when it's time to talk, we're willing to sit down and talk.
This approach to problem-solving is far more reliable than rushing headlong into things with enthusiasm.
Li En bid farewell to Brock and went to Barron's workshop.
Barron was hunched over his computer, the screen scrolling with incomprehensible code.
Three empty coffee cups were piled on the table, each with brown coffee stains at the bottom.
"Barron, help me find out where these devices are available." Li En placed the list Connors had written on the table.
Barron picked them up and glanced at them, immediately recognizing that they were all laboratory equipment.
He typed a few words on the computer and brought up the corresponding product images and specifications one by one.
"Most of these advanced devices are built in laboratories and are not mass-produced; they cannot be bought on the market."
Li En nodded.
Where can I find it?
Baron was taken aback.
Instead of going to buy it, I asked where I could find it.
He took half a second to understand the true meaning of the question, and then a smile appeared on his young face.
"Stark Industries, Osborne Corporation, MIT's university labs—these are all places that have them."
"If I had to recommend one, it would be the Osborne Group."
He tapped the keyboard, and the printer next to him started working.
"I've hacked into their company network before; their defenses aren't very strong. I even have the blueprints for their building here."
The printer spit out floor plan after floor plan.
Barron's voice carried a hint of regret: "I've tried to break into Stark Industries for years, but I haven't been able to. If our equipment were better, maybe—"
"I'll set up a separate online studio for you later." Li En reached out and patted his shoulder.
"From now on, you'll be on secondment at Umbrella, and the entire cybersecurity aspect will be handled by you."
Barron looked up, his eyes flashing behind his glasses, and then he smiled.
"Leave it to me."
As night fell, a dark figure emerged from the bushes outside the Osborne Group building.
Li En tightened the drawstring on the hood.
He had told Matt that he would never wear a mask again, but times have changed.
I'm here to steal something, so I can't just walk in through the front desk openly.
With Barron's blueprints, the route was clearly etched in my mind.
He crept in through the back door, used a crowbar to pry open the lock on the fire escape door, and went up the stairs to the twelfth floor.
The indicator lights of the surveillance cameras along the way were all off, and only the green fluorescent lights of the emergency exit signs were visible in the corridor.
"I've arrived." He tapped his earpiece.
"Received." Barron's voice came through the headset, accompanied by the sound of keyboard typing.
The building's lights went out completely a few seconds later.
The backup power came on, and a few emergency lights shone faintly at the end of the corridor.
At the same time, all the electromagnetic locks on the access control system popped open simultaneously, emitting a series of crisp clicking sounds.
This is Baron's ability, and it's also why Lee En has always looked at him differently from the very beginning.
Li En pushed open the laboratory door.
Moonlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the entire laboratory in a grayish-blue hue.
Centrifuges, spectrophotometers, and gene sequencers were neatly arranged on the lab bench—the models were exactly the same as those on the Connors list.
He first put the most expensive equipment into the space warehouse, then took out three huge nylon bags and opened them.
Beakers, test tubes, petri dishes, various reagent bottles, and even spare pipette tips in the drawer were all included.
He cleaned very quickly, sweeping the shelves with one hand and holding the bag openings open with the other, and the items fell in with a clatter.
A few minutes later, apart from the tables, chairs and benches, only the equipment racks that used to hang the equipment remained on the wall in the laboratory.
Li En tied the last bag tightly, slung it over his shoulder, and glanced back at the doorway.
It was as clean as a bare-bones room.
He nodded in satisfaction, turned and disappeared into the fire escape.
The next morning, people from the Osborn Group went to the police station to report the case.
The police officer who received the report flipped through the police report and glanced up at him.
"You're saying that a lot of experimental equipment was taken away?"
"That's right." The person in charge at Osborn looked anxious.
"Judging from the photos you provided, it would take at least two trucks to move these things."
"That's right."
"So you mean that someone moved all the equipment without triggering any alarms, and the security guards and patrol personnel downstairs were completely unaware?"
"That's right."
The officer closed the folder and looked at the other person with an extremely subtle gaze.
"Alright, it's been recorded. We'll do our best to investigate."
"You must investigate thoroughly! We must recover the equipment worth nearly ten million!"
"Don't worry." The officer nodded, his expression sincere.
"We're police officers."
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