I searched and fought in America.

Fifteen minutes later.

Emily pushed open the door to the conference room on the third floor of the police station.

There were already seven or eight people inside, including the police chief, several councilors, and several senior city government employees.

The man sitting at the head of the table was a man in his fifties, whose hair was neatly combed.

Mayor of Houston, Thomas Roll.

The key figure of the current generation of the Roll family.

Emily found a seat and sat down. As soon as she settled in, Thomas's gaze swept over her.

"Emily," he said bluntly, "how's the matter I asked you to handle?"

Emily's expression stiffened slightly.

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Thomas frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Emily lowered her head, her voice strained:

"No... I can't handle it."

Thomas's face darkened.

"Can't handle it?" His voice turned colder. "A slum gang leader, and you're telling me you can't handle him?"

Emily bit her lip and didn't say anything.

Thomas stared at her for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh:

"Rosen, right? That Chinese guy, he's got some nerve."

He didn't say anything more.

After all, Emily was also a member of the Roll family, albeit a collateral branch. However, he couldn't be too harsh on her in front of so many people.

We still have to consider the family's reputation.

"Alright," he waved his hand, "sit down."

Emily felt like she had been granted a pardon and quickly sat back down, keeping her head down.

Thomas glanced at everyone present and said in a deep voice:

"At tomorrow's press conference, at 9:00 AM sharp, at City Hall, those survivors must appear in front of the cameras and say what they need to say."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces:

"Does anyone have a solution? Who can go?"

Silence fell over the meeting room.

Some people looked down at the documents in their hands, some stared blankly at the table, but no one spoke, no one looked up, and no one responded.

Thomas waited five seconds.

ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

His expression grew increasingly grim.

"Nobody?" His voice was filled with suppressed anger. "Is there absolutely no one here who can do something?"

Still silent.

Thomas clenched his fists.

He knew exactly why.

In Texas, politics has never been decided by one person alone.

The four families—Roll, Parker, Hughes, and Murphy—co-rule the country, each controlling different territories and resources.

Although he is the mayor of the Roll family, the Roll family has been declining in power in recent years. Why should the other families present help him?

If you don't handle this matter well, you'll be blamed; if you do handle it well, there's no reward.

They were just waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Thomas took a deep breath, suppressing his anger.

Just as he was about to say something—

"I'll do it."

A voice rang out.

Everyone was stunned.

Thomas looked up at the source of the sound.

A man stood up in the middle of the conference table.

This is a dignified man in a police uniform.

Michel Parker.

The eldest son of the Parker family.

Thomas was stunned.

He never expected that this person would step forward.

Mishir is not very active in politics; in fact, one could say he keeps a low profile.

Everyone knows that he is the heir to the main branch of the Parker family and is exceptionally capable, but he is rigid, serious, inflexible, and not good at building relationships.

In many people's eyes, he is not the kind of person who would take the initiative to do things.

What surprised Thomas even more was that he and Mihir didn't have a very deep relationship.

"Mihir?" he asked, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Mihir nodded:

"I'll give it a try."

A low murmur arose in the conference room.

Some people exchanged glances, some showed surprise, and some frowned, especially a middle-aged man sitting to the left front.

That was Terence Parker, a member of the Parker family and Michelle's cousin.

He looked at Michel, who had stood up, his brows furrowed deeply.

This nephew...

Parker Sr. has always had a headache regarding Michel's succession.

Among the younger generation of the Parker family, there are two outstanding descendants.

Besides Michel, the other one is his cousin. Although he comes from a collateral branch of the family, he is very shrewd and knows how to get things done. He is very popular in the family.

There's already a lot of discussion within the family about who is more suitable to be the next head of the family.

And now, Mihir is actually taking on this thankless task?

Old Parker couldn't understand it.

But he did not speak up to stop it.

Thomas looked at Michel, remained silent for a few seconds, and then slowly nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Since you're willing to go, then it's up to you."

He paused, his voice turning somber:

"Michael, you only have two small ones. In two hours, those survivors must be willing to cooperate. Can you do that?"

Mihir's expression remained unchanged:

I tried my best.

Thomas stared at him for a while, then suddenly said:

"If you can do that—"

He glanced around the conference room, his voice rising a few decibels:

"The position of deputy police chief has been vacant for a while. Once this is done, I guarantee you'll get that position."

A collective gasp filled the conference room.

Deputy Police Chief!

That was a coveted position that so many people envied! The previous deputy director fell seriously ill and died two months ago. The position had been vacant for a long time, and so many people were eyeing it and pulling strings to get it, but no one expected it to be like this.

Thomas actually gave up this position because of this!

What surprised everyone even more was that Thomas did not leave the position to someone from the Roll family, but instead gave it to Michelle from the Parker family.

Old Parker's eyes lit up.

If Michel can become the deputy director...

Is there any need to argue about the issue of succession?

Michel showed no surprise on his face.

He simply nodded:

"it is good."

Then he turned around and strode toward the door.

He pushed open the door and went out.

The door closed slowly behind me.

Mihir stopped and stood by the window, looking at the night outside.

He recalled the light in the hands of that Chinese man.

I recall that eerie safe zone at the epicenter of the explosion.

Mihir closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He didn't know why he had stepped forward.

All he knew was that at that moment, his mind was filled with that light.

That light should not have existed in this world.

He wanted to see him again.

He opened his eyes, took a step, and walked towards the elevator.

---

Ronnie Community.

Michel parked the car on the side of the road and turned off the engine.

He didn't get out of the car immediately, but instead sat in the driver's seat, picked up a folder from the passenger seat, and opened it.

It contained all the information he could access about Rosen, including his resume, social connections, and recent activities.

However, the information is very limited, and many parts are blank.

A Chinese man burdened with high-interest loans suddenly obtains the Iron Claw Token, gaining immense power and becoming the Holy Father of the Iron Claw Gang. He also rescues a group of survivors from the sewers.

There are too many inexplicable things about this person, as if he obtained something out of thin air.

Michel closed the folder and opened the car door.

As soon as I stood still, a middle-aged Black man walked over.

"Mr. Michael?" the middle-aged Black man asked.

Michel nodded.

"Mr. Rosen, knowing you had arrived, specially sent me to pick you up."

The middle-aged Black man spoke respectfully.

Michel paused for a moment, looked at the folder in his hand, thought for a while, and finally followed the other person away.

After crossing several streets, we finally arrived at a bungalow.

"Mr. Michael," the old man bowed slightly, gently pounding his chest with his right hand, "the Holy Father is waiting for you inside, please come in."

Mihir paused for a second, then strode inside.