Three hours after the dockside assassination, in the two-story building of the Sea Blue City Customs General Administration, the air seemed to have congealed into a solid.
Robert Hurd, the Chief Administrative Officer of Sea Blue City Customs, now felt as though his head was splitting.
One of his piers had been blown to bits, his morgue had several more bodies, and these were not even the most troublesome issues. The most pressing problem at the moment was that his jail was crammed with military officers.
With a gloomy expression on the face of the big boss, the lower-level clerks naturally trembled with apprehension.
From the highest-ranked assistant to the lowest-ranked copyist, every customs clerk buried their heads as deep as possible into the files on their desks, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Inside Hurd's office, the heads of various departments under the Chief Administrative Officer looked solemn, all silently smoking, no one speaking.
The office of the highest-ranking official of customs was shrouded in smoke, as if heavy fog had descended.
Earlier, right in this office, after Hurd had listened to the reports from the heads of departments about the dock explosion that occurred a few hours ago, an unreachable place inside his skull had started to experience pulsating, severe pain, and his temples throbbed rhythmically. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs NoveIＦire.net
Now, seeing that none of his department heads would break their silence, Hurd couldn't help but inwardly sigh at these incompetents, none of whom were reliable. He stood up and opened the window behind him.
The fresh sea breeze swept the secondhand smoke from the office. Hurd gathered his energy and asked in a deep voice, "Does anyone have any information that hasn't been mentioned and would like to add anything?"
The response was a silence akin to death.
Seeing no one spoke, Hurd frowned and continued, "Then let me summarize. This afternoon, a fight broke out on the dock; a pier was reduced to rubble, several people died, and, moreover, a group of military officers were implicated."
"We understand that's pretty much the situation, right? The pressing issue now is how to handle those detained military men—we need to come up with a solution quickly." Hurd leaned back in his chair, tapping the desk lightly with his fingers before suddenly letting out a cold chuckle, "Is that army what's-his-name still ranting about slaughtering us?"
"Uh... Yes," the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau timidly nodded. The military officers were placed in the cells originally meant for smugglers, which were now under his charge, "General Layton is currently resting in my office... but I think if we continue holding onto his men, he might just charge into the General Administration with his sword."
"Let him come!" Hurd slammed the table hard, causing cups, ink bottles, and other small objects on the desk to jump an inch high, "Is the mighty Customs really afraid of him?"
"We're naturally not afraid, and we definitely won't be at a disadvantage in a head-on collision," the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau wiped sweat from his forehead and offered a wry smile, "But we can't just keep the army guys locked up in the Anti-Smuggling cells forever, can we? The situation is not justifiable, and Customs really has no right. I think, why not simply let them go? The army men seem very cooperative with our investigation, they are all officers registered in the military roster, even if we let them go they won't just disappear. We can call them back for assistance with the investigation as needed."
"Let them go? Easy for you to say. If the army was behind the explosion, and if you let them go today, how could they ever let us catch them again? If you ask me, we must interrogate each one to clear up what exactly happened today before anyone thinks of leaving!" As soon as the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau mentioned releasing people, the Tax Bureau head protested.
He strongly disagreed with the suggestion of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau head; the two had always been at odds, constantly at each other's throats.
"Then you do the questioning! You've been interrogating all afternoon, what useful things have you discovered? Aren't you still clueless with every question?" The Anti-Smuggling Bureau head, his anger stoked, retorted aggressively.
"Interrogating my ass! Just asking politely, what can you find out? These sons of bitches definitely have something they're not telling." The Tax Bureau head's face turned red as he yelled loudly, "Chief, let's use torture! Just give the nod, and I'll administer it right now, I guarantee these army scoundrels will spill everything they know."
"Torture? You want to go to war with the army?" The head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau shouted as he leaped up.
"Bang!" A loud noise erupted as Hurd's fist created a crack on the oak desktop, "Everyone shut up!"
The two high-ranking customs officials closed their mouths and angrily returned to their seats.
Hurd's head now ached even more.
"Hey! Talking to you guys! How long are you going to keep us locked up? What right does Customs have to detain us? Release us!" Andre, grasping the bars of the cell, shouted at the two guards by the door, one portly and one slim. He angrily kicked the cell door so hard that it dislodged a chunk of dust from the walls.
"Mr. Officer, sir, it's not that we're keeping you," the slim guard said with a smile, trying to appease in a fawning tone, "Please don't give us a hard time. We're just earning our living. Why you're being kept here, how would we know? We do what our boss tells us to."
"If you don't know, call someone who does!"
"The higher-ups are not here right now, this cell is just the two of us. How about I get you some water?"
"Forget it, Andre, come over here and sit down." Seeing the slim guard being slippery, Winters didn't want to watch Andre get mocked by his words, so he called out softly to Andre.