Through a rolled-down window, Lott saw the inside of the car.
It was the heir to the Chicago Corporation, Ian!
With all the conditions met, the system was activated.
Lott's mind seemed to have been triggered.
A chain reaction began.
A sprinkler truck appeared at the intersection.
In the hot summer, the ground needed to be wet and cooled to prevent the tar from melting.
Just as they were about to pass through the trash can, the splashing water immediately knocked down the "pencil" above the trash can.
After the pencil fell, it naturally bounced a few times and began to roll.
"Gurgle..."
Under Lott's gaze, it just happened to roll onto the sidewalk.
The young man rode his bicycle and slowly pressed on the pencil.
Due to the slow speed, the bicycle that touched the pencil suddenly lost its balance.
The young man hurriedly dodged but he could not control himself and fell in front of the old man next to him.
The old man saw the situation and quickly threw down his newspaper.
He helped the young man up.
At this moment, the roaring Aston Martin rushed out of the intersection like a beast!
At high speed, the falling newspaper suddenly appeared on the Aston Martin's windshield.
In the car, Ian's vision was suddenly blocked.
He was shocked. Reflexively, he stepped on the brake and the steering wheel suddenly turned.
Obviously, he could not control the car.
A loud "boom" was heard.
The red Aston Martin had lost control and crashed into the truck next to it.
The truck was full of steel bars that fell like raindrops and ruthlessly pierced through the red Aston Martin.
Dust flew everywhere!
The busy intersection was suddenly in a mess.
It was right at the intersection and Lott was standing there.
He clearly saw the entire process of the accident.
He looked at the driver's seat of the Aston Martin that had collided with the truck.
The steel bars on the truck had penetrated Ian's body one by one and blood immediately flowed out.
His hands and feet were penetrated by the steel bars.
However, his head was avoided.
If he was not rescued immediately, the bleeding would cause him to go into shock and die.
At this moment, he was opening his mouth like an old leather drum, greedily wanting more oxygen.
This miserable figure was Ian.
Lott looked at him.
Five years!
He had been thinking every day for the past five years on how he could kill this murderer!
In the end, he did not choose to kill him.
It was not because he was soft-hearted.
It was because he felt that compared to death, he wanted Ian to see with his own eyes, how his Chicago Corporation and his proud family would collapse and become desolate.
It was a more brutal form of revenge.
Ian would not die.
He would be paralyzed, severely injured, and unable to seek death.
The family would give him the privilege of not dying.
Would that "privilege" really save him?
It would not.
"Not able to die" was a curse to him.
Death was not the goal but the taste of despair.
This was exactly what he had experienced five years ago.
Gradually, Lott's emotions began to calm down.
Lott raised his head and intentionally, with a smile that seemed not a smile, looked at the surveillance footage above him.
Tightening his clothes, he walked toward the subway.
His expression was calm.
The pain he felt back then, he wanted ten times, no, a hundred times, to return it.
"I'm back from hell."
Lott said softly.
"And this is only the beginning..."
It was as if he had declared a war.
Lott stood at the subway entrance and looked back at the car accident in the distance.
He lowered his head and turned to leave.
...
Chicago police station.
The successor of the Chicago Corporation, Ian, had a major car accident.
Due to Ian's special identity, the police station that dealt with the car accident immediately set up a special task force.
They first quickly pulled up all the surveillance camera footage from the nearby intersections.
Everyone in the Special Task Force stared at these videos and analyzed them.
"This guy, in the city, is driving so fast?
"He's speeding at the speed limit. He deserves to be in a car accident!
"All these years, he has caused us so much trouble. I still remember five years ago..."
The young detective, Brian, looked at the red sports car on the screen as if it had gone out of control.
He curled his lips and said.
If it were not for the fact that the heir of the Chicago Corporation, Ian, had been in a car accident, Brian would have clapped his hands and laughed loudly, shouting that God had appeared!
In the past years, how many people in the Chicago police department did not know about the terrible things that Ian had done?
In addition, there was Ian's father, Old Ian, who had founded and developed the Chicago Corporation.
He was a cold-blooded businessman with blood on his hands.
He had hired killers to eliminate all his competitors.
If he had not colluded with the government, he would not have been free from all his misdeeds.
He would have been uprooted by the police.
Now...
Everyone knew these people were b*stards, but they could not take action.
They knew that Old Ian had just sent a batch of equipment to the police department.
Hence, it was as if police department was experiencing a honeymoon period.
Otherwise, the higher-ups would not have set up the task force so quickly- to investigate Ian's accident.
Ian was Old Ian's favorite son.
Old Ian would not let this matter go so easily.
...
"Isn't this just an ordinary accident?"
After watching the video of what happened at the intersection, Brian expressed his opinion on the accident.
"Other than serving him right, I don't think there's any other reason."
"Shut up!
"His identity cannot be discussed like this. Be careful of what you're saying!"
In front of the screen, the middle-aged captain, James, who had finished watching the surveillance footage, looked at Brian. James frowned and reminded Brian to be carefeul.
Although James despised what Ian had done, he would not show his true feelings in front of the task force.
James knew how powerful Old Ian was.
If the police followed normal procedures, this incident was obviously an "accident."
However, Ian's special identity had made all the difference.
Ian's family of the Chicago Corporation had a market value of tens of billions. Whether it was their connections or their strength, they were very powerful.
Eventually, they had become the local boss of Chicago.
After Ian's car accident, Old Ian had personally called the police to pressure them.
Hearing the captain's reminder, Brian pursed his lips and did not say anything else.
Brian felt really aggrieved.
Ian was clearly a b*stard.
However, Brian could not say anything.
As a result, the police was going to become accomplices of Old Ian's.
Just as Brian was feeling depressed, there was a knock on the door.
Following that, Abby, the policewoman of the task force, pushed the door open and walked in without any hesitation.
"Ian is still undergoing emergency treatment but it's said that he has passed the critical period."
Abby handed a document to the captain and a pencil that was sealed in a transparent bag. She said in a cold voice, "But even if he survives, he'll probably have to spend the rest of his life in bed."
There was a strange look in everyone's eyes.
Was there really such a thing as "retribution" in this world?
Compared to this, what was even stranger was what was in the transparent bag.
"So, the entire incident started because of this pencil?"
Brian asked doubtfully.