Law America, the Devil's Agent

It was only then that Bellica suddenly realized that she didn't know whether to put down the hand that was holding the vase or to back down.

"We have an agreement!"

Allison practically yelled:

"You moved out, Daniel! You agreed!"

Daniel smiled slightly and explained, "Allison, I think you've got it wrong."

What I said at the time was that we needed to give each other some space as a buffer.

We had no written agreement about leaving the house, only verbal communication.

This has absolutely no effect whatsoever.

He lay back down on the bed, his hands behind his head.

"Do you want to sleep? I can move over a bit. Or would you like to chat some more?"

"Shall we show you some of your fun positions?"

Allison's lips were trembling as she took a step forward, only to be stopped by Beryl.

"You just wait and see."

"We'll be waiting for you, ma'am."

Allison turned and rushed out of the bedroom.

Rebecca followed behind her and slammed the door shut.

In the living room, darkness engulfed the two people.

"We called the police."

After a long while, Alison's voice came from the darkness, hoarse and desperate.

"What should we say when we call the police?"

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"He's in our bedroom..."

"He's in his own bedroom."

Rebecca regained her composure: "He didn't touch us, he didn't threaten us, he didn't destroy anything."

He was just masturbating. In his own bed.

The arrival of the police was of no use.

silence.

Daniel's humming came from upstairs, the volume just right to penetrate the floor and reach the living room.

"Damn it! He's changed!"

Allison's voice began to tremble:

"Before, all he did was drink, smash things, and stare blankly at the wall. He would cry and wail."

Who taught him these... these methods?!

"This kind of transformation..."

Rebecca turned around and looked in the darkness in Allison's direction: "All I can say is that he met a cunning lawyer."

Another sound came from upstairs.

They knew that Daniel had gone into the bathroom.

The tap started running as he washed up in the private bathroom where they were preparing to enjoy a bath together.

He made these sounds to announce his existence.

Every sound was like a needle piercing the nerves of the two women in the living room.

Until footsteps came down the stairs.

Daniel stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a brand new outfit, looking at the two silent figures on the sofa.

"Still awake? It seems my late-night visit has indeed disturbed you. I'll be leaving now."

Upon hearing this, the two people downstairs lit up.

But Daniel immediately added:

"I have to come back next week; I think I left the toolbox in the garage."

"Your toolbox isn't even in the garage."

Daniel still wore that gentle smile.

"Oh? That might be the attic."

I'll have to come back and look for it eventually. I'll be back next week, and maybe the week after that.

He turned and walked to the door, then suddenly stopped.

His gaze fell on Alison, whose eyes, once filled with despair, now held only a serene joy.

"By the way, honey."

Allison's body stiffened for a moment.

"I was thinking, shouldn't you find some time to bring your parents over for a visit?"

After all, they didn't know about something this big.

He paused, his tone as calm as if he were discussing a weekend party.

"Let them come to Philadelphia and see your life now."

Do you think they would want to pray for you in church if they knew?

Allison suddenly stood up.

Her face turned a purplish-red, her lips trembled violently, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

What finally came out was a series of fragmented curses and insults.

But those words were like pebbles thrown into water, creating a few ripples before disappearing.

Daniel waited until she finished yelling and collapsed back onto the sofa, panting heavily, before slowly speaking.

Goodnight, you two. Have a good night's sleep.

He left quietly, leaving behind his best wishes.

The living room fell into a deathly silence once again.

In a Jamaican barbecue restaurant, Link is putting a piece of grilled pork chop into his mouth.

The phone on the table lit up briefly.

He glanced down at the screen, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.

He then put down his knife and fork, wiped his hands, picked up his phone, and typed a reply:

"We will keep in touch and communicate as needed regarding any further developments."

Then he flipped his phone face down on the table, picked up his lager and downed it in one gulp, gazing at the Philadelphia night sky.

Without a doubt, a successful case is the best accompaniment to a lawyer's evening drinks.

……

After a wonderful dinner, Link pushed open the door of the barbecue restaurant.

He pulled up the hood of his hoodie and walked back the way he came.

The road branches off in the middle, one of which is a street lined with neon lights.

It was a hub for the sex trade, and every night, the stench of perfumes and cosmetics mixed with the vomit from the roadside was unbearable.

It was the busiest time of day, and he had planned to walk briskly across that street.

But a group of figures blocked the middle of the sidewalk, and a noisy argument broke out.

Several young men and women with nose rings and tattoos covering their arms were surrounding a girl.

The leader, with striking red hair, was dragging the girl's wrist deeper into the neon lights.

Several people nearby laughed and made a fuss, and someone reached out to tug at her clothes, as if they were half-heartedly playing a game that had already crossed the line.

Link recognized them; they were seasoned veterans on this street.

But the girl in the middle looks like she's just turned 18.

Her long, flowing black hair shone brightly under the neon lights, and she wore several delicate silver bracelets on her wrists. Her coat was impeccably tailored.

These people, seemingly from two different worlds, are entangled together at this moment, for reasons unknown.

"I think I'd better not go..."

"Come on, Leah, didn't we already agree on this online?"

The red-haired woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her back with a grin: "You've come this far, and you still want to back out?"

Link carefully observed the girl out of the corner of his eye.

A body without tattoos, snow-white teeth, and innocent eyes. She wasn't a resident of Kensington; she was like a fledgling bird that had wandered into the wrong nest.

But that has nothing to do with him.

People get lost in Kensington every night.

He is not a policeman, not a social worker, and certainly not a neighborhood guardian.

But the girl saw him.

"Sir... sir, please help me."

Her voice was urgent and pleading, like a drowning person reaching out to grab the only piece of driftwood.

[One civil commission has been detected. Would you like to accept it?]

Link paused, but then looked away, lowered his hat brim, and continued walking forward.

A blue-haired boy spat at his retreating figure and grinned.

"Alright, Leah, why did you have to pick a random yellow-skinned monkey? What can he do?"

"These yellow monkeys are all cowards. Come inside with us; unforgettable times await you there!"

Even though he was being insulted, Link didn't stop. He turned the corner and disappeared at the end of the street.

Leah's eyes dimmed completely.

On Kensington Avenue, Link, who seemed like one of the few normal people she knew, coldly rejected her.

Gradually, she stopped struggling and let the red-haired woman pull her wrist and take two steps forward.

The cheers grew louder, and the group of unruly young men finally felt they had tamed her.

The sound became distant and indistinct in Lydia's ears, and the glow of the streetlights turned into blurry spots.

"That's a good girl!"

The red-haired woman smiled with satisfaction and reached out to push open the half-closed door by the roadside: "Come in and sit down, I promise you—"

Excuse me.

A voice came from behind them.

Everyone turned their heads at the same time.

Link stood at the entrance of the alley.

He looked the same as always, hands in his hoodie pockets. But this time, there were two more people behind him.

Two patrol officers.

His uniform was neatly pressed, and a flashlight hung at his waist as he quietly surveyed the scene before him.

The woman with the red hair was stunned.

He unconsciously loosened his grip on the girl's hand.

The blue-haired boy next to him took a step back, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but then he swallowed it back.

Link pointed to the girl surrounded in the middle.

"Officer. I am Attorney Link from Curtis Law Firm, and this young lady is my client."

According to her statement, these people attempted to forcibly take her into a closed, non-public area against her will.

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the tattooed youths, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"According to Chapter 31 of Title 18 of the Pennsylvania Criminal Code—Unlawful Detention."

If they attempt to move it to a second location, it escalates to kidnapping. A first-degree felony.

The moment the word "kidnapping" was uttered, the faces of those delinquent teenagers turned pale instantly.

Link leaned forward.

"So, I'll ask again."

What are you going to do to my client?