David Brooks instructed his subordinates, “Guys, search carefully! See if there’s any goods in Prince Bin’s place.”

Chapter 011: Chief Inspector

Several officers began to scatter throughout the venue to search—the bar, the restroom, under the tables, the toilets... they didn’t miss a single corner where something could be hidden. Even the ceiling’s air conditioning and exhaust pipes were dismantled and checked. The rest of the officers frisked the guests and checked their IDs.

After the O Division officers finished searching, they came over one after another to report to David Brooks.

“Mr. Brooks, nothing found.”

“Nothing in the restroom, nothing at the bar, nothing on the guests... It’s very clean. Some guests said Prince Bin’s place has been out of stock for a long time, but there are a few minors.”

After hearing his subordinates’ reports, David Brooks looked as if he’d seen a ghost. He dug at his ear and asked in confusion, “You’re sure it’s clean?”

“We’ve checked everywhere that should be checked,” the officer replied.

David Brooks looked up at Prince Bin.

“Ben!”

Robert Bolton shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “Officer, what’s up?”

“You hid things well today.”

“You knew I was coming?” David Brooks stared at him.

Robert Bolton tilted his head and said, “What kind of joke is that... Sir?”

“Whether you come to the bar or not, what’s it got to do with me? I’m just an ordinary customer here for a drink. If you want to make friends, sit down and have a drink.”

“Bring a glass over!” Robert Bolton called to the bartender.

The server immediately brought out another glass, poured whiskey from the same bottle, and set it on the table. Robert Bolton gestured for David Brooks to have a drink, but he didn’t take it. He was the one who smashed the bottle on the floor, and now he was the one talking about making friends—how could he swallow his pride?

You have to understand, the target of his two operations: the first time was to prevent Ben from successfully getting his position, the second was to teach Prince Bin a lesson. The first goal wasn’t achieved, which was already frustrating. This time, it was just a routine every big boss in the underworld had to go through. If he couldn’t even handle this, he’d lose face as a senior inspector when he returned to O Division.

“Click.” In the corner of the bar, in the business area, a middle-aged man who had taken off his suit, wearing a white shirt and tie, his face covered in stubble, lowered his head and lit a cigarette.

He had his arms around two hostesses, exhaled smoke, puckered his lips and leaned toward the cheek of the one on his left, while his hand slipped under the skirt of the one on his right.

All the guests in the venue stood up to be checked, except for him—he was still playing with the girls under the white lights, making both of them a bit embarrassed. They gently pushed at his chest, trying to move him away, but he stubbornly kept groping and kissing, acting wild and unruly. His neat black suit lay quietly in the corner of the sofa.

David Brooks refused the drink from Robert Bolton and said, “Stand up now. I’m going to frisk you. Please cooperate with our police inspection.”

“Come on, Sir, you’ve searched all the guests and now you want to search my boss?” Wayne stepped forward. “If you have to take someone in, take me.”

“You’re not qualified!” David Brooks shot him a glance. His two subordinates immediately pinned Wayne down. “Lie down, Car Wai! We’re inspecting the guests—why are you so anxious? If you admit he’s your boss, we’ll pack up and go home right now!”

The officer shouted.

Wayne frantically signaled to a girl in the distance. One of the girls in the club caught his look. Robert Bolton stood up on his chair, spread his arms, and said, “Sir, search if you want.”

Big Howard clenched his fists, fuming inside.

It looked like the other side wouldn’t let things go unless they took the boss in. If they swept the place every three days, how could the club keep running?

A “serves you right” smile finally appeared on David Brooks’s lips. He bumped past Big Howard and stepped forward. Big Howard knew better than to mess with the cops and didn’t dare to get tough with the officers in the club.

But just as David Brooks reached out to frisk him, Robert Bolton grabbed David Brooks’s wrist with one hand, swept his shoe across, let go, and—boom—took David Brooks down with a single move.

David Brooks didn’t even have time to react. In a daze, his body hit the floor, and he let out a pained cry: “Damn you!”

“Mr. Brooks! Mr. Brooks!” The officers on the scene were all agitated. Two of them rushed to subdue Brother Ben, but Big Howard blocked them. As the other officers prepared to act, the gangsters in the club started to stir as well.

They quickly shouted at the gangsters, telling them not to do anything rash.

The middle-aged man in the business area looked up and shouted, “Don’t draw your guns!”

“If you draw your guns, you’ll have to write a report!” His face flushed, he patted the hostess’s skirt to make way, staggered out of the sofa, grabbed his suit from the corner, slung it over his arm, and reeking of alcohol, walked up to Robert Bolton: “Hic!”

He let out a drunken hiccup.

“Brother Ben.”

“Hic.”

“I’m O Division Chief Inspector Mark Hall.” Mark Hall reached into his suit, pulled out his badge, and held it up to show Robert Bolton.

Robert Bolton took a deep breath and thought to himself, “The tree wants to be still, but the wind won’t stop. With my status, the police will come looking for me every day.”

Big Howard, Wayne, the gangsters and the officers at the scene all backed down. A chief inspector carried a lot of weight, and the fact that he showed up in person was intimidating in itself.