met free Chapter 134 Undercurrents and Thunder
Chapter 134 Undercurrents and Thunder
Chapter 134: Undercurrents and Thunder
For the next few days, the Georgian-style manor house at 2780 South Park Avenue in the Shakerheitz district became an eerie, tranquil oasis in the eye of the storm. Arthur Coleman huddled in his guest room, every nerve taut. Outside, it was the typical Cleveland summer scene—sunny, swaying trees, the occasional hum of a lawnmower—but beneath this calm, he could feel the oppressive tension of an impending storm. Upbeat jazz played on the radio, and the newspapers carried mostly innocuous local news, but he knew that a hunt for that invisible net had quietly begun.
Lin Yan's daily routine seemed unchanged. He still practiced Tai Chi, which Arthur couldn't understand, in the courtyard every morning, while Xiao Qi fluttered around, chasing butterflies. At breakfast, he would carefully cut bacon into small pieces and feed it to Xiao Qi, who was squatting on a chair, while he leisurely sipped his black tea and read the latest newspapers and municipal briefings sent by Richard Shaw.
But Arthur keenly noticed that the three important figures—Congressman Richard, banker Harrison, and lawyer Frank—were appearing more frequently, and their interactions with Lin Yan were becoming more brief and discreet. They would often only linger in the study for a moment, exchanging a few whispered words. Lin Yan would either nod or give a simple instruction, and the three would then depart, their expressions carrying an efficient solemnity.
One evening, a dish of roasted lamb chops appeared on the dinner table. Lin Yan cut off a tender piece and placed it on Xiao Qi's plate. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he casually remarked to Arthur, who was busy cutting food, "Mr. Coleman, it seems your rivals aren't a united front. I heard that 'Big Guy' Jimmy Kowalski and his subordinate 'Skinny' Salvador have been having some disagreements lately, clashing several times over control of a few dock warehouses."
Arthur's hand paused, and the peas on his fork rolled off. He looked up at Lin Yan. The boy's face wore a faint, almost innocent expression, as if he were merely sharing an interesting street gossip. But Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He refused to believe it was just a coincidence. Banker Worthington controlled the flow of funds, and labor lawyer Donovan was well-versed in the ins and outs of the union. It would be incredibly easy for the two of them to secretly fan the flames and incite infighting. Behind this seemingly casual remark lay a precise and ruthless operation. He could almost see the first crack being cleverly torn open in that web of corruption from within.
Meanwhile, in New York, Alexander Winters, one of Lin Yan's most trusted subordinates, was carrying out a crucial mission. In a heavily guarded office, Winters had an ordinary-looking brown paper bag in front of him. Inside were a miniature film copy perfectly replicated by Richard Shaw, and a preliminary analysis report compiled by Harrison Worthington pointing to the flow of funds between Lakeside Investments and Swiss accounts. Winters didn't use any modern mailing methods. He focused his fingertips on a tiny, almost invisible teleportation talisman on the bag. With a barely perceptible spatial fluctuation, the bag vanished instantly, and the next moment, it appeared in a mail basket marked "Internal Oversight Office - Urgent" inside the Department of Justice headquarters in Washington, D.C. This trans-spatial delivery ensured absolute security and timeliness of the information, like placing a time bomb directly next to the opponent's heart.
Washington's reaction was even faster than expected. The evidence in the anonymous package was too shocking, involving politicians, gangs, transnational arms smuggling, and directly pointing to potential protection within the judicial system. A special investigation team, directly commanded by headquarters and completely bypassing the Cleveland local branch, was swiftly established under absolute secrecy. They infiltrated Cleveland like ghosts, rented safe houses, set up listening devices, and began their surveillance discreetly. All of this was under Lin Yan's monitoring through Winters' dual intelligence network and that of local Golden Core cultivators. The net had been quietly cast, waiting only for the perfect moment to close it.
August 10th, night. A decisive moment.
Night fell, and a damp, cool breeze blew across Lake Erie. In the villa's study, only a single lamp illuminated the room, casting a dim, yellowish light. Arthur Coleman paced restlessly, occasionally glancing out the window at the dark night sky. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of anticipation, fear, and the unknown threatening to overwhelm him.
Lin Yan, however, appeared unusually calm. He stood before the huge floor-to-ceiling window, his back straight, his gaze seemingly piercing through the distant night sky and landing on the shimmering lake. Xiao Qi seemed to sense the unusual atmosphere as well, ceasing its playful antics and quietly lying at Lin Yan's feet, its ears perked up alertly and its nostrils flaring slightly.
"Time's almost up," Lin Yan suddenly spoke, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet study. He turned around, his face showing no tension, but rather a composure akin to someone about to go on stage. "Mr. Coleman, you wait here. No matter what news you hear, don't leave this house." He bent down and patted Xiao Qi's head. "Little one, you too, stay put and watch the house. I'll be right back."
Before Arthur could respond, Lin Yan leaped lightly out the window, and in the next instant, he vanished from the study. Arthur rushed to the window, but all he saw was a silent courtyard and swaying tree shadows; not a soul was to be seen. This departure, far beyond his comprehension, sent a chill down his spine, yet also inexplicably instilled a sense of confidence.
At this moment, on a secluded dock on Lake Erie, a thick night fog blanketed the water, making it pitch black. Only a few makeshift electric lights cast a dim, yellowish glow, outlining the massive shadows of the barge. City Councilman Thomas Bradley and businessman Jacob Stern, dressed in expensive trench coats, stood on the dock, their faces a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Workers were chanting as they loaded the last batch of wooden crates labeled "Machinery Parts" onto the ship's hold. Inside these crates, however, lay enough smuggled weapons to arm an entire battalion.
"It's finally coming to an end." Stern took out a handkerchief, wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, and said to Bradley in a low voice, "As long as this shipment goes smoothly and the funds are recovered, we can completely launder our money, and maybe even take another step forward."
Bradley nodded, but a barely perceptible unease flickered in his eyes. He felt the night was unusually quiet; even the stray cats that usually roamed the docks were nowhere to be seen. "I have a bad feeling about this. I can't get in touch with Kowalski or the Salvadorans. Could it be…?"
Before he could finish speaking, a sudden change occurred!
Several blinding beams of searchlight shot in from all directions like swords, instantly illuminating the entire dock as if it were daytime! A cold and authoritative voice boomed from the loudspeaker: "FBI! Everyone drop your weapons, hands behind your heads, and stay put!"
Immediately afterward, engines roared, doors swung open, and dozens of federal agents in bulletproof vests, armed with submachine guns, emerged from behind containers, on warehouse roofs, and even from speedboats on the water, like divine intervention, completely surrounding the dock. Bradley and Stern's faces drained of color instantly; they froze, like two statues of despair. Caught red-handed, the evidence was irrefutable!
Almost simultaneously, in an abandoned industrial area on the other side of the city, lay the lair of another dark world. The assassin organization that had once hunted Arthur had its headquarters in an abandoned machine shop. The shop had been converted, dimly lit, filled with smoke, and the air thick with the scents of tobacco, alcohol, and a faint, almost imperceptible, stench of blood. Several menacing-looking men were cleaning their weapons or playing cards, completely unaware of the upheaval that had occurred at the docks.
However, death had already arrived.
The heavy iron door of the workshop opened silently, as if pushed open by an invisible force. A figure, like a demon emerging from the night, appeared without a sound. It was Lin Yan. He was still wearing that seemingly ordinary casual outfit (transformed from the "Flowing Cloud" robe), his face expressionless, only his eyes flashing with a cold light in the darkness.
"Who goes there?!" One of the assassins near the door was the first to notice the anomaly and shouted sharply, while reaching for the pistol on the table.
The moment his fingers touched the cold grip of the gun, a faint whooshing sound rang out. The assassin felt a chill between his brows, as if bitten by a mosquito, and then his consciousness plunged into eternal darkness. A small pebble enveloped in true energy had pierced his skull.
This sudden death instantly ignited chaos in the workshop! The remaining assassins, all desperate criminals, reacted with lightning speed, grabbing their weapons and unleashing a deluge of bullets towards the doorway!
However, Lin Yan moved. His speed exceeded the limits of the naked eye, leaving a faint afterimage in his place before his true form darted into the crowd like a ghost. He didn't use the flying sword "Starry Sky"; against these mortals, an ordinary dagger was enough. The dagger in his hand transformed into a silver arc of death, each flash bringing a spray of blood, accompanied by the soft sound of throat bones shattering or the muffled thud of a heart being pierced.
Gunshots, roars, and screams echoed through the workshop, but often stopped abruptly after only half a second. Lin Yan's steps were precise, precisely treading the death lines of these assassins. Every turn, every sidestep, perfectly avoided fatal bullets while reaping lives. He didn't even use large-scale cultivation spells; relying solely on the physical strength, speed, and precognitive abilities of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he achieved absolute dominance.
An assassin attempted to ambush him from behind, but Lin Yan, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, didn't even look. He simply threw the dagger with a backhand motion, and it pierced the assassin's throat as if it had eyes. Another assassin hid behind a machine tool and fired wildly. Lin Yan moved with a swift, gravity-defying motion, gliding along the wall and instantly appearing above the assassin's head. He stomped down, and the sound of skulls shattering was chilling.
This was a one-sided, extremely efficient massacre. In less than three minutes, the workshop returned to deathly silence, leaving only the thick, overwhelming stench of blood and corpses lying haphazardly. Lin Yan stood in the center of the pile of corpses, his breathing steady, not a drop of blood staining his "Flowing Cloud" robe. He scanned the entire area, carefully probing with his divine sense, confirming that there were no more survivors.
He then began setting up the scene. He deliberately used a hitman's weapon to shoot some of the corpses, creating the illusion of a fierce firefight. He also scattered several packets of drugs and a small amount of cash on the ground, fabricating evidence of a gang fight over the division of loot. After doing all this, he disappeared silently into the darkness of the night, just as he had come.
When Lin Yan returned to the study in the villa, the chill of the early morning had not yet dissipated. The windows opened and closed silently, as if he had only gone out for a walk. Xiao Qi immediately pounced on him, affectionately rubbing against his trouser leg. Arthur Coleman, on the other hand, abruptly stood up from the sofa, his face filled with anxiety and inquiry.
"It's resolved." Lin Yan's voice carried a hint of the cool night breeze, but his tone remained calm. "At the docks, we caught them red-handed. Here, we cleaned up the trash." His casual words concealed a decisive victory on two fronts.
Arthur opened his mouth, but found he couldn't get any questions out. Looking at Lin Yan's calm, expressionless face, he couldn't imagine what kind of bloody storm this young man had just experienced, or rather, orchestrated. But he knew he was truly saved.
The following day, the media in Cleveland and across the country were engulfed in explosive news. "Federal agents launch a lightning-fast operation in the dead of night, cracking a major transnational arms smuggling case; implicated congressmen and wealthy businessmen arrested!" "Cleveland's corruption network dismantled in one fell swoop; heroic prosecutor Arthur Coleman deserves much credit!" Meanwhile, tabloids were filled with horrifying headlines like "Gangland shootout, assassin organization's lair wiped out in bloodshed, no survivors!" The two news stories, seemingly independent, were like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly pieced together in the eyes of those in the know, revealing a thrilling covert war.
Arthur Coleman's name became an instant household name. He transformed from a prosecutor forced into exile into a hero who fearlessly went undercover, ultimately cooperating with the federal government to eradicate the scourge. With Richard Shaw and others skillfully manipulating public opinion, his reputation reached its zenith. Awards and promotions from Washington were quickly issued.
Before leaving, Arthur made a reservation at Oak Hall, Cleveland's most upscale restaurant, insisting on hosting Lin Yan. The private room was elegant, with gleaming silver cutlery. Arthur raised his glass, his words sincere and filled with heartfelt gratitude: "Mr. Lin, I, Arthur Coleman, will never forget your life-saving kindness. Without you, I would have died unjustly long ago, and these parasites would still be at large."
Lin Yan smiled slightly, raised his glass of water, and gently clinked it against his: "I said, one meal is enough. Seeing justice prevail and kindness protected is the best reward. You have a long road ahead of you, stay true to yourself, and use the power in your hands wisely." He cut off a piece of the tenderest filet mignon and fed it to Xiao Qi, who was sitting in a specially made high chair with a napkin tied around its neck. Xiao Qi ate with relish, its tail wagging like a fan.
After the meal, the waiter cleared away the cutlery and served coffee. Lin Yan took out a thick, bulging brown paper bag from beside him and pushed it in front of Arthur.
"Consider this a parting gift. There are some things inside that might help you perform better in your new position."
Arthur opened the paper bag with suspicion, and his breathing quickened after just one glance. Inside were clear copies of Jacob Stern's original handwritten ledger, which detailed a bribery network involving many local figures and potentially even higher-ups; account information and transaction records for all related Swiss banks and Panamanian shell companies; high-resolution photographs developed and enlarged from microfilm; and even several notes listing some of Thomas Bradley's hidden connections and a few suspicious names who might be protecting him. The weight of this "gift" far exceeded his expectations, enough to stir up an even bigger storm in the legal system.
"This...this is too precious!" Arthur's voice trembled.
"Make the best use of everything," Lin Yan said calmly. "Firmly establish this chain of evidence and bring everyone who should be brought to trial without exception. That's the best way to give back to you and to this city."
Behind the scenes, the real gains were just beginning. Banker Harrison Worthington demonstrated his exceptional financial acumen. Taking advantage of the chaos surrounding the Stern Group's collapse, its leaderless state, and the freezing and investigation of its assets, he used a series of complex and covert offshore company operations to successfully acquire several prime, well-equipped port warehouses and key logistics routes under Stern's name at a "liquidation price" far below market value. These assets were quietly incorporated into Lin Yan's vast and secretive business empire.
Meanwhile, Frank Donovan skillfully manipulated public opinion within the union. He successfully transformed workers' anger from dissatisfaction with individual leaders into a demand for a purge of the entire corrupt system, thereby securing tangible economic compensation and a promise of safer working conditions for the workers. This series of maneuvers propelled him to the pinnacle of prestige among blue-collar workers, making him a "tough defender" of workers' interests. This laid a crucial foundation for Lin Yan's future influence in the industrial city.
Two days later, at dusk, the setting sun painted the Cleveland skyline a warm orange-red. Lin Yan, carrying Xiao Qi, once again went to the rooftop of the Terminus Building. Looking down at this steel jungle, after this silent baptism, it seemed unchanged to the naked eye, still bustling with traffic and noise. But Lin Yan could sense that the stale air that had lingered deep within the city had dissipated, and the air seemed much fresher.
"Brother, are we leaving again?" Xiao Qi asked using her divine sense, looking at the unfamiliar scenery below.
"Well, the show's over here." Lin Yan smiled, took out the map of the whole of America that had been stepped on by Xiao Qi's claws several times from his storage ring, and spread it on the clean ground. "Same as always, you decide the next stop."
Little Seven excitedly jumped down from his arms, circled the map twice, sniffing around, and finally seemed to have chosen a target. With a kick of its hind legs, it happily pounced on the central area of the map, its little paws landing right on the location of South Dakota.
"Rapid City?" Lin Yan put away the map and hugged the still-excited Xiao Qi back into his arms. "That's fine, it wouldn't be bad to go see Mount Rushmore."
As night deepened and the city lights began to twinkle, a barely perceptible sword light swept up from the rooftop, merging into the glittering starry sky, and sped off towards the southwest.