Downtown Los Angeles, inside a high-end apartment building.
Ninth floor, inside an apartment.
"Stan, are you crazy?"
At this very moment, in one of the rooms...
A slightly overweight, middle-aged black man was roaring angrily at Stansfield.
Stansfield shook his head carelessly, seemingly unconcerned that the man in front of him was the Deputy Director of the Los Angeles DEA (Narcotics Bureau).
"Clett, you have to help me this time."
"I know you don't like me visiting your home, and you don't want others to know about our dealings."
"But this time, I've run into a little trouble."
"If it's not resolved properly, I think it might make us both very sad."
A flash of contempt passed through Stansfield's eyes.
The fat black man in front of him was one of his protective umbrellas on the surface.
As the Deputy Director of the LA DEA...
Without his protection and cooperation over the past decade, a mere Senior Agent like Stansfield could never have obtained so much confiscated drugs to sell for profit.
In a sense, Stansfield was the "black glove" (dirty work handler) this guy used to rake in money.
Now that he, Stansfield, was in trouble, naturally he came to seek help.
Clett was furious. In recent years, he had sensed that Stansfield was gradually slipping out of his control.
He used to have other "black gloves" who helped him sell off drugs that were secretly withheld after DEA busts.
But over the past decade or so, they had died one after another due to various accidents.
The causes of death were bizarre and increasingly absurd.
Especially in the last two or three years, when Clett tried to expand further.
The new corrupt cops he recruited met with accidents before they could even start making money for him.
Electrocution, falling down stairs...
There were even bizarre deaths like peanut butter allergies or choking on milk!
Clett knew perfectly well that behind these strange deaths was Stansfield—the black glove who was slipping off his hand—expressing his dissatisfaction.
According to his secret investigations, Stansfield's power had indeed grown beyond his imagination.
Not to mention the LA DEA, where many in the middle and upper management were corrupted by Stansfield's money.
Rumor had it that Stansfield had also befriended several powerful council members in the City and State Assemblies.
With more protective umbrellas, Stansfield—already insidious and cunning by nature—had become less respectful towards Clett in recent years.
Naturally, Clett was angry and dissatisfied.
If Stansfield's bribes hadn't been steadily increasing...
And if he hadn't outwardly remained on Clett's side...
Clett would have moved to eliminate Stansfield long ago.
But now, the tail was too big to wag.
"Sigh!"
Clett sighed in his heart.
Over the years, he had accepted millions of dollars in black money from Stansfield.
He knew he and this villain were in the same boat.
So, hearing the veiled threat in Stansfield's words...
Clett could only suppress his anger, snort lightly, and ask, "It's late. I don't want to waste words with you."
"Speak. What trouble have you gotten into now? And what do you need me to do?"
Stansfield smiled. He knew this black fatty would compromise.
He picked up the duffel bag he brought and threw it directly in front of Clett.
Then he spoke directly: "Someone is eyeing a shipment of mine. I need to use your internal clearance temporarily. Also, sign two transfer orders for me so I can deploy the Tactical Response Team at any time."
"I won't make it difficult for you. Here is $500,000. After I settle the matter, there will be another $500,000 as payment."
Hearing there was a million dollars in total, Clett's expression improved slightly.
But he also understood that Stansfield must be in deep trouble this time.
Otherwise, he wouldn't cough up so much money at once.
previously, when the former Director of the DEA discovered Stansfield was dirty and wanted to investigate him...
Rumor had it Stansfield only spent $700,000.
He hired a State Senator to use his influence to transfer that Director away.
This showed that a few hundred thousand dollars was enough to get heavyweight politicians involved.
Clett's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the bag containing the $500,000.
After hesitating for a moment, Clett ultimately couldn't resist the temptation of a million-dollar payoff.
"Fine!"
He gritted his teeth and agreed.
"Stan, this is the last time."
Clett stared at him with a dark face. "You've gone too far these past few years. The voices of dissatisfaction against you in the Bureau... I can barely suppress them anymore."
"Watch yourself!"
Stansfield stood up with a smile and bowed to him.
But his face showed no concern whatsoever.
He was indeed insidious and cunning, but he was also a massive junkie.
Helping Clett handle drugs for over a decade...
In the process, Stansfield had gotten addicted out of curiosity.
Now, his addiction was growing worse.
So bad that he needed to use multiple times a day, spending long periods in a euphoric trance.
His rationality corroded by drugs, Stansfield was becoming increasingly cold, crazy, and reckless.
The current Stansfield was like a ticking time bomb.
Sooner or later, he would explode.
And when that happened, Clett wouldn't be the only one caught in the blast radius.
Soon, Stansfield took the elevator down to the underground garage.
As he approached his car, a subordinate quickly got out and opened the door for him.
Once inside, a subordinate in the front passenger seat turned around to report.
"Stan, we've found out something about Michael."
"That old boy is dirty, just as you thought!"
"Today he asked a few friends if anyone needed a large amount of drugs."
"It just so happened one of our informants is close to him."
"After he told me the news, I had the informant fish for information."
"What we can confirm now is that the brainless idiot has at least four kilograms of goods on him."
"It should be the stuff we left with him earlier."
Stansfield leaned back against the car seat, listening quietly.
Unknowingly, veins began to bulge on his forehead, neck, and even the back of his hands.
In an instant, anger ignited him completely like a flame.
"Good. Very good!"
Stansfield laughed in extreme anger. "Keep a close eye on him. We'll settle everything together tomorrow."
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