The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 72 Graystone Alley Brotherhood
It's half past four in the morning.

A dilapidated warehouse.

It was transformed into an indoor-like environment, complete with a large TV, billiards, sofas, coffee tables, refrigerator, music room, and more.

The man sitting on the sofa and coffee table leaned down and inhaled the long strip of white powder that had been laid out. Then, his whole body trembled, his face became extremely distorted, and his eyes went blank for a moment.

Quentin shook his head, his dazed eyes regaining their clarity, and looked at the Korean man sitting in front of him with a murderous expression.

This is his partner, a key figure with interests in fentanyl, or rather, the source of his fentanyl was brought by this Korean.

His status in the Graystone Alley gang was second only to his.

The Graystone Alley Brothers Gang: the elder brother represents him, while the younger brother represents this Korean man.

half each.

He sniffed and said in a muffled voice:

"Still no news from your people? Have they gone off somewhere to fool around?"

Choi Dong-gun has the face of an average Korean, with a large face, small eyes, and single eyelids. He looks unremarkable and has an ordinary build, but the aura he exudes is more dangerous than Quentin Gobert.

Upon hearing Quentin's question, he turned around and nodded slightly to a Korean henchman standing behind him.

"Go and ask if the people you sent have any news. If not, send someone over to check."

The Korean guy nodded and left.

Choi Dong-geon then looked at Quentin, who was now fully engaged, and asked, "Are you sure it's really just an ordinary patrol officer? And not someone else?"

“Of course.” Quentin lay back on the sofa, his eyes glazing over again, and chuckled.

"A cop's life is worth ten million, this is a really good deal."

"Fuck! A rich man becoming a police officer? That's the biggest joke I've heard all year! Hahahaha!"

Choi Dong-geon frowned as he stared at Quentin, who was laughing maniacally. In his mind, this guy was just a puppet, a spokesperson they had put forward.

After all, it would be too conspicuous for a Korean to gain a foothold in this land, especially with the possession of fentanyl. This Korean identity would make him a thorn in everyone's side.

"One of my underlings has gone missing. The latest information is that he was captured by the Wolf Clan biker gang on the West Coast,"

At this point, Cui Dongjian paused for a moment and said:

"Quentin, after we finish this, we'd better keep a low profile for a while. Let's slowly distribute the goods around our own territory and quietly develop and train our own gunmen. You also need to keep an eye on your brother Noel and prevent him from going anywhere."

"Fake!"

Quentin interrupted him, abruptly standing up and staring intently at Choi Dong-geon:
"Are you teaching me what to do?"

Choi Dong-geon's eyes flickered as he stared at Quentin: "No, I'm just giving you a suggestion."

Quentin's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as he spoke, word by word:
“Remember, I’m in charge of the Greystone Alley gang. Without me, you bunch of pickle-flavored roof rats would have been stuffed into concrete blocks in the Los Angeles River long ago!”
Listen, Gook—you'd better kneel down with your 'advice' and look me in the eye before you take it seriously.

As he spoke, he stared intently at Choi Dong-geon, as if waiting for a real answer.

Cui Dongjian said expressionlessly, "Understood, Boss."

“Very good.” Quentin spread his hands and suddenly laughed.

“Don’t worry, he’s just a cop. As for your missing henchman, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s been arrested, he’s been arrested. So what if the outside world knows we have fentanyl production channels? As long as we share some of the profits, we can resolve everything.” Cui Dongjian narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “You’re willing to share?”

This is indeed a good method, allowing the forces that want to join to withstand the few groups that control their own drug distribution channels and divide up the entire Los Angeles drug market.
But he didn't believe that a greedy guy like Quentin would be willing to share even a little bit of profit; fentanyl was extremely lucrative.

"Hahaha, you really are an idiot, actually giving me advice." Quentin laughed arrogantly.

"Why split up? Let's spread the word first, saying we can only let one, two, or three people join this feast. Let them fight like dogs first, then we'll take the opportunity to devour them."

The sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the unfinished conversation.

It was the Korean underling who had just gone out. He walked over with a serious expression, and under Quentin's frowning gaze, he leaned down and whispered something in Choi Dong-geon's ear, who was already sensing something.

Cui Dongjian's face, which had been relatively expressionless, suddenly darkened.

"Boss, are you sure that's really just an ordinary cop?"

Quentin frowned and stared at Choi Dong-geon.

"Someone saw police officers gathering at that cop's house, going in and out. Something's happened." Cui Dongjian suddenly stood up and looked at Quentin in a deep voice.

"We sent out ten gunmen and there's still no news. Something must have happened!"

No! That police officer couldn't possibly be just an ordinary police officer!

For some reason, as Cui Dongjian spoke, he felt goosebumps rise on his arms without him even realizing it. He knew what that feeling was; he had once escaped a life-threatening crisis because of it.

"Damn it!" Cui Dongjian cursed inwardly as he stared at Quentin, who was frowning. He knew that this guy, whose brain had been damaged by drugs, hadn't done his research properly before taking action.

He, who hadn't even flinched at being insulted, suddenly had the idea of ​​finding a way to kill this guy and then create a new puppet.

To cause trouble at such a crucial juncture! I should have checked first.

"What's the rush? We haven't figured it out yet." Quentin raised his eyebrows and stared at Choi Dong-geon, whose face had darkened, and sniffed indifferently.

"So what if the police find out about this? Nobody will suspect us. So what if they know we were the ones who targeted that cop?"

Anyway, because of the fentanyl thing, our Graystone Alley gang's information will end up on their desks sooner or later.

Cui Dongjian felt the goosebumps that hadn't yet disappeared, knowing that things weren't as simple as Quentin had made them out to be.
Killing an ordinary cop is nothing to them, as long as the process and the result are handled well. But killing a cop who seems capable of eliminating ten gunmen is a different story.

He wanted to investigate the matter thoroughly before things escalated.

Thinking of this, Cui Dongjian turned around and left with his underlings, leaving Quentin with a message.

"I want to investigate this myself!"

Quentin shook his head, watching Choi Dong-geon leave with his men, a hint of crimson flashing in his eyes. If it weren't for the fact that this damned Gook had access to the fentanyl supply chain in South Korea, he would have thrown the guy into the Los Angeles River to feed the fish long ago.

However, Cui Dongjian's words took him to heart. It was indeed abnormal that ten gunmen had been sent out without any news. He waved his hand.

Quentin's white henchman immediately spoke up: "BOSS?"

"Go and bring that damned Oleg back to me. I want to ask him what that damn cop is all about."

"Yes, sir!"

"."

(End of this chapter)