Chapter 124 Murder Case (Completed)...

What does it mean to have the support of a powerful mayor before the auction begins?

Tailor-made auction rules? Pre-determined auction results? Or are competitors eliminated beforehand?

The answer is both yes and no.

Before the auction could even begin, He Changyi needed to deal with a thorny issue—

"You slept with the mayor's wife?"

He Changyi said incredulously, "Trotsky, why don't you castrate yourself?"

She knew it all along: never trust a man!

Trotsky, his face deathly pale, said, "I was framed..."

He Changyi retorted, "Are you trying to say you were raped by a woman? Oh, right, it's not impossible. Should I take you to the proctology department for emergency treatment?"

Trotsky seemed completely terrified, lost in his own thoughts.

"No, I can't stay in Irbuyat... He'll kill me, he definitely will! I have to leave, I have to leave right now!"

He Changyi was so angry she almost laughed.

"Isn't it too late to think about running away now?"

Trotsky pleaded, "I can't die! Smolensky will definitely kill me! But as long as I leave Ilyushat, he can't do anything to me anymore... He won't find me..."

He Changyi scoffed, “If you were afraid of what our respected old mayor might do to you, you could have done nothing in the first place instead of trying to drive away alone when things got worse, and even forgetting to notify your bodyguards.”

The highway was quiet in the dead of night, with no streetlights, only a faint, cold moonlight.

The two cars faced each other, their stark white headlights shining brightly like spotlights on a stage, illuminating every expression on everyone's face.

Trotsky gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if it were his lifeline, and shouted with a ferocious expression:

"Get out of my way! Don't block my path! Do you really think I'm afraid of you?!"

Instead of retreating, He Changyi advanced, pressing his hands on the hood and staring intently at the person inside the windshield.

Why are you running? Do you think you can escape?

She even laughed, saying softly, "Trotsky, you wouldn't be thinking of dumping this mess on your poor partner, would you?"

Trotsky's lips trembled, as if he were both crying and laughing.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… Please, please have mercy… This isn’t difficult for you, would the mayor do anything to his friend? But he’ll definitely kill me! You, you, you can’t just watch me die…”

He Changyi straightened up and took a step back towards the car.

“You’re right, I really can’t just stand by and watch the mayor kill you.”

Trotsky was overjoyed and breathed a sigh of relief. However, she waved her hand and gave an order to the bodyguards waiting beside her:

"Drag him down."

Before Trotsky could react, the car door was suddenly ripped open from the outside, and he was dragged out of the driver's seat with his hands tied behind his back and forced to kneel on the ground.

Above him came He Changyi's calm voice.

"Things have come to this, and there's no way to keep you here any longer."

He Changyi leaned down, her gaze level with his, her tone incredibly gentle, like a lover's whisper.

"Trotsky, you asked for this."

Trotsky: !!!

He looked at her in fear, his facial muscles trembling, and he stammered, trying to say something to beg for mercy, but his mouth, stuffed with cloth, could only produce indistinct whimpers.

Before plunging into complete darkness, the last thing Trotsky heard was—

"Let God decide whether to forgive you."

On the way back to the city, the atmosphere inside the car was extremely tense. No one dared to speak at that moment, except for the noisy and brave Mr. Crow.

"Perhaps this sounds like I'm defending someone, but I have to say—"

Mikhail objectively analyzed, "Trotsky is an idiot, but this time it can't be entirely blamed on him. After all, who would have thought that our mayor's wife would like a pig that walks upright? But a pig that can say sweet words and give diamond rings and necklaces seems to be quite charming."

He Changyi glared at him with annoyance.

"You have no idea how much trouble Trotsky's lower body has caused us. I should have shot his little head instead of his useless big head!"

Mikhail and the bodyguard in the car simultaneously and silently squeezed their legs together.

He Changyi propped her head up with one hand and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"Do you think it's possible that Mayor Smolensky is a tolerant and generous person?"

Mikhail paused for a moment, then said tactfully, "Perhaps that's possible if Trotsky were sleeping with the mayor himself."

He Changyi: ...

Mikhail reassured him, "Don't worry, our upper class doesn't have a tradition of chastity. Don't believe the church's nonsense. It's a sign of charm for noble couples to each have lovers. I don't think the mayor will mind."

He Changyi glanced over there quietly.

"What if he minds?"

Mikhail said optimistically, "Then we'll cut Trotsky into pieces and send them to the mayor; he'll be satisfied."

He even volunteered, saying, "I can turn him into a specimen like the mad monk Rasputin!"

...He Changyi was sometimes really curious about what exactly the KGB school taught Mr. Crow.

But this wasn't the only thing causing him so much trouble.

Recently, a wave of attacks against companies under He Changyi's name has suddenly emerged in local newspapers.

Counterfeit and shoddy goods are rampant; how many more times must we tolerate counterfeit Chinese products?

When the Zhongguo businessman arrived, I lost my house.

Why We Need to Hold the Warrants in Our Own Hands—Investment Funds May Be Scams

After depositing my money in the bank, I completely lost the freedom to withdraw it.

The rapid stream of negative reports, all targeting He Changyi and her companies, clearly indicates that someone is fabricating facts and deliberately smearing her—a vicious and despicable business competition.

Although the authors of the reports used different pseudonyms, judging from the wording and sentence structure, the person who drafted them should be the same.

While some readers scoffed at this, many more were skeptical.

"Is what's written in the newspaper true? Why is it completely different from my personal experience?"

"I think it's probably true, after all, the newspapers have the names on them, right? Although we haven't encountered such a thing, it's hard to say that such a situation doesn't exist in reality."

"This is really terrible. I'm going to tell my family and friends that they should stay away from Jong-kook's companies from now on."

When newspapers publishing negative news were widely distributed, the promising development of He Changyi's businesses in Irbuyat suffered a major blow. Shops and banks that were once bustling with customers quickly became deserted, and the number of warrants raised by Baiyang Fund plummeted, even experiencing negative growth due to many people requesting to redeem their fund shares.

Not to mention the ongoing old house reconstruction project, where a group of people blocked the construction team's way, threatening that if the excavator wanted to demolish the house, it should run over them first.

He Changyi contacted the newspaper immediately, offering to pay protection money disguised as advertising fees. However, the response was ambiguous, neither agreeing nor refusing, only spouting high-sounding nonsense about freedom of speech and press independence.

Meanwhile, Mayor Smolensky reacted extremely coldly to the matter.

It's not hard to imagine. Putting myself in her shoes, He Changyi would also be very angry if her own wife were slept with by someone else—although she hasn't been able to get married yet, which is truly regrettable.

Although she gave Mayor Smolensky the portion of the partnership's profits belonging to Trotsky as compensation, he didn't seem happy and even questioned why Trotsky hadn't come in person.

He Changyi asked tactfully, "Which part of Trotsky do you prefer? I can pack it up and send it to your office in a box."

Mayor Smolensky looked at her with a mixture of fear and shock.

He muttered, "Actually, I don't want any of them. It's too hot, and my dog ​​can't just eat whatever he wants... To be honest, I think you're being a bit extreme. It's just a small thing. I actually quite like that fat guy..."

So He Changyi stepped forward, whispered a few words in his ear, and Mayor Smolensky's eyes widened. Finally, he nodded and said, "Okay, I agree, but there won't be a next time."

Mayor Smolensky was somewhat satisfied with He Changyi's handling of the situation. Trotsky disappeared from public view without anyone noticing, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool without causing a ripple.

His accountant and bodyguards left Irbuyat happily after receiving sufficient severance pay.

Before leaving, one of the bodyguards asked Lev if his boss had any plans to recruit new people.

Lev said, "No, of course not, we don't hire just anyone!"

The next day, the total number of bodyguards rapidly expanded from ten to over a hundred. This could no longer be considered a bodyguard team, but rather a private security company.

Lermontov crossed his arms and muttered, "It's unbelievable that I'll see Nikolai training new recruits as an instructor one day."

Lev patted him on the shoulder and sighed, "I never thought I'd have the chance to be a major again after retiring—though there aren't many people like that now."

Lermontov was shocked: "How many more people do you want?!"

Lev pondered for a moment and said, "At least five hundred to a thousand... it can't be less than a regiment."

Lermontov turned and walked away: "You must have drunk too much vodka last night!"

Lev stayed where he was, rubbing his chin, and said, "What's impossible about that? After all, when I was working as a henchman for a gang, I never imagined that one day I would become the security manager of a company."

On the other side, Xie Xuejun was using a self-made booklet to teach his newly arrived comrades the Emei language.

"Niete means no, Harashao means good, the two together mean no..."

The new comrades were writing furiously in their notebooks, while Yang Jianshe stood by, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

Wait a minute, that's not how you learn Emei language...

In addition to recruiting a large number of veterans to strengthen security, a flock of crows also landed heavily on the roof.

"Misha, you lucky lad!"

A man with an average face shouted jealously, "Why did the boss make you the IT manager?! You know, my grades were way better than yours back in school!"

Mikhail said smugly, "Because I have gained the boss's trust, and you all arrived too late."

Another man with an equally ordinary face shook his head: "She must have been fooled by you. In fact, you're the most cunning and untrustworthy bad guy among us!"

Mikhail's tail was practically pointing skyward.

"This is why choosing a second career is so important. I've said it before: a bad work history will ruin your resume!"

The third generic-looking man pondered, "Perhaps there's something I can do to make her see me... Misha, do you think the boss would like a suitcase full of reporters? Or would she prefer a brown paper bag full of dirt?"

Mikhail said slyly, "Why don't you try it and see which one she prefers?"

All the generic-looking people in the room started shouting at the same time:

"Misha, you wicked bastard!"

However, He Changyi did not choose any of the crows' earnest suggestions.

"So, have you found the reporter hiding behind this?"

Mikhail said boastfully, "Perhaps he thinks he's hiding it well, but to us, this guy is as conspicuous as the king in his new clothes."

One of the average-looking people handed a report to He Changyi at just the right moment.

"This is all the information we have about the journalist, from the nurse who delivered him forty years ago to the accounts he opened in his mistress's name. We know everything about him."

He Changyi wasn't in a hurry to look at it, but instead put the report aside.

"I need you to do something for me."

Mikhail and the other ordinary-looking people adopted a posture of listening attentively.

He Changyi pointed to the report cover and said, "Have him come to the front and claim all the pen names."

After waiting a while and not hearing about the next task, Mikhail asked curiously, "Is that all?"

He Changyi nodded: "Yes, that's all."

The average-looking men exchanged furtive and questioning glances. After the new boss signaled that everyone could leave, they asked quickly in barely audible voices:

"Misha, what is she trying to do?"

"You're the one among us who knows her best, so what is her purpose?"

"Why step into the limelight instead of sinking to the bottom of the river? To be honest, I'm better at the latter."

Mikhail said meaningfully, "Of course I know, but why should I tell you?"

The average-looking guys collectively berated the guy for being dishonest and trying to monopolize the boss's position, but to outsiders, they appeared to be having a serious discussion.

Lermontov exclaimed to Lev, "I never expected that these scoundrels would actually work so diligently."

Lev: ...

The crows nodded amicably to the two bodyguards, and Mikhail seized the opportunity to slip away like an eel.

Only after they were out of everyone's sight did a genuine look of doubt appear on Mikhail's face—what exactly did His Majesty want to do?

The Chekas were quite efficient. In less than a week, journalist Vakim proudly published his identity in the newspaper, along with a feature article about He Changyi himself.

A businesswoman from a communist country has infiltrated the newly formed Rus', simultaneously intervening in multiple sectors including retail, industry, finance, and real estate. It's hard not to wonder what her true motives are, and whether our fragile society can withstand a premeditated attack from the outside.

[All patriots, stop standing idly by! Everyone, take action! I call for an investigation into He Changyi and his companies! Render unto God the things that are God's, unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto Gore the things that are Gore's!]

All glory and benefits belong to all Irbyat people!

Vakim dusted off the still-wet newspaper with satisfaction and said to his guest, "That Chinese woman is probably terrified. She must be hiding in her office crying right now. Hahaha, if she's smart enough to hand over the whole company, she still has a chance to escape back to her hometown in the Far East alive."

The guest chuckled in agreement and asked curiously, "You know, you're the uncrowned king of our place. How could that foolish woman from Zhongguo have offended you?"

Waqim spoke cryptically, yet with a hint of boastfulness: “This is not something to be discussed casually. You know, I’ve always had close ties with the big shots here. That woman made too much money and offended the wrong people. She deserves to die.”

The guest nodded knowingly, then leaned forward enthusiastically and said to the smug host:

“I have an exclusive tip about a woman from Zhongguo that you’ll definitely find interesting.”

Vakim leaned back arrogantly and said casually, "Oh, really? Maybe it's some outdated news. Nobody in all of Irbuyat knows her better than I do."

The customer winked at him mysteriously and whispered, "Did you know that she recently killed her business partner?"

Vakim sat up straight immediately!

"Are you telling the truth?!"

The guest nodded, in an even softer voice, almost a whisper, even though they were the only two people in the room.

"Of course it's true. I even have photos of the body. She killed her partner and tried to seize all the profits. Poor Trotsky, he was our brother. He should have been alive."

Vakim couldn't stop smiling; he looked extremely happy.

"Where are the photos? Give them to me now! I want to use tomorrow's front page to seek justice for our brother!"

The guest pulled an envelope from his inner jacket pocket, and just as he was about to hand it to Vakim, he nimbly pulled his arm back.

The two looked at each other, and Vakim said unhappily, "Fine, you'll get what you deserve. I won't mistreat a true friend."

The guest laughed enthusiastically and echoed his sentiments, but still showed no intention of handing the envelope to Vakim.

Vakim snorted heavily, reluctantly stood up, took a stack of rubles from the locked cabinet, carefully counted them, and then disdainfully threw them in front of the guest.

"Take it! I told you, I won't mistreat my friends!"

The customer happily picked up the rubles, counting them one by one. With sharp eyes, he spotted a few counterfeit bills, which were snatched away by the reporter, whose face turned red, and replaced with several real bills.

After confirming that everything was correct, the guest handed the envelope to Wajim.

He eagerly tore open the envelope and poured out the photos. When he saw the grotesque corpse in the photos, Vakim did not show any fear; instead, his whole face lit up.

"That's fantastic! That's fantastic!"

Waqim excitedly spun around in the room, wishing he could kiss the photo.

"This is what I need, this is what I really need!"

Ignoring the guests beside him, Vakim grabbed the phone and skillfully dialed a number. While waiting for the other party to answer, he caught a glimpse of the guests out of the corner of his eye and waved his hand as if shooing away flies.

"Alright, you can go now. If you have any more news like this, come find me. You know I'm always very generous to my friends... Hello, it's me, I'm Waqim, yes, the reporter from that newspaper!"

Before leaving, the guest glanced back at Vakim, who was passionately giving a speech into the microphone, and curled his lip in disdain.

—A shitty journalist, the uncrowned king of shit.

The printing plant worked overtime through the night, and the next day, when the citizens of Irbuyat passed by the newsstand, every newspaper was covered with shocking close-up photos of corpses.

Breaking News | Chinese businessman He Changyi murders his Chinese business partner Trotsky

Waqim's report details how He Changyi murdered her innocent partner out of greed. Using this as evidence, he repeatedly mentions his previous reports, emphasizing that he has keen insight and has long seen through the surface to recognize her true colors.

The whole city was in an uproar.

"Have you heard? That boss from Zhongguo killed her business partner!"

"I never imagined she could be so cruel, it's unbelievable..."

"Why haven't the police arrested her yet? She should be deported! And all her assets should be confiscated!"

When someone hesitated and said, "But besides a photograph, is there any other evidence to prove she killed someone? I'm not trying to defend anyone, but this is indeed a bit strange..."

Those who firmly believed the report retorted, "Do you really expect her to allow the TV station to broadcast the murder live? Think about it, if a partner who owns half the assets dies, who really benefits the most?!"

The skeptics could only shrug and say, "I still hope to see more compelling evidence, not just a photo and a report. That journalist named Waqim seems to be very biased against Boss Zhong Guo; his articles are everywhere and don't seem neutral or objective at all."

One humorous guy added, "If Boss Zhong Guo wasn't a real woman, I'd almost suspect she slept with both Wajim's wife and mother at the same time!"

Those who support Waqim retorted, "You are questioning the professionalism of journalist Waqim! Is he questioning Zhong Guo's boss for personal gain? He is an upright, patriotic, and honest person, and you should show him more respect!"

The other two exchanged a glance, and the humorous guy couldn't help but mutter, "Upright? Patriotic? Honest? I have to say, journalists who possess all three qualities probably went extinct before dinosaurs did."

The people of Irbuyat were in an uproar, some believing the reports, some doubting them, some just trying to muddy the waters... After the clamor swept through the entire city, it finally converged into one voice.

—The truth, we need the truth!

Local police arrived at the office immediately to question him, but could not find He Changyi there.

"Where is your boss, Jong-guk? Could she have been so scared she fled back to her country?"

The few employees who remained in the office exchanged glances but didn't say anything. Finally, a grinning brown-haired young man stepped forward.

"Our boss is probably having tea with the mayor right now!"

The police officer paused for a moment, then slowly lowered his baton, removed the handcuffs, and put on a kind expression.

"Uh, okay, but why did she go to see the mayor?"

The brown-haired boy said lightly, "Who knows? Maybe it's because she wants to hold a press conference at City Hall and tell all the citizens the truth about the murder."

He also kindly reminded the police: "You'd better hurry, it would be terrible if the suspect surrendered on the spot and the police were absent! I heard that all the reporters in the city have gone there!"

The police officers looked at each other in bewilderment, and the next second, they all turned around and hurriedly ran outside.

They can't be late for the press conference!

The area in front of the city hall was already packed with people; almost the entire city had gathered there. Everywhere you looked, there were crowds of people, and even several reporters with cameras had climbed up the telephone poles.

The noise was deafening, with two opposing views swirling together: "She must have come to turn herself in" and "I knew she was innocent." Everyone was inexplicably excited, as if they were witnessing some historic moment.

When the police arrived, drenched in sweat, the press conference was at its climax.

“Recently, there have been frequent reports about me and my companies in the newspapers, especially about the murder case. I think it is necessary to explain this to all citizens who are concerned about this matter.”

Boss Zhongguo stood in front of the makeshift podium, facing the crowd below. She spoke fluently in Emei with composure, appearing elegant and poised, completely unlike the greedy and shameless murderer described in the news reports.

"First of all, we must clarify that Friendship Store, Baiyang Foundation, and Far Eastern Development Bank operate legally, pay taxes in accordance with the law, and have never violated any laws or infringed on the rights of any customers. The news in the newspapers is all false reporting, fabricating names and fabricating events. Therefore, we will sue these newspapers in court, and all the compensation obtained will be donated to the orphanage."

People listened intently, holding their breath, afraid of missing her next word.

Secondly—

Boss Zhong suddenly laughed and said slowly, "I never murdered my partner Trotsky."

Before he could finish speaking, someone in the audience suddenly shouted:

"lie!"

In the crowd, Vakim held his head high, like a spirited rooster.

"That's only part of the truth! If 'you' didn't murder Trotsky, then didn't your bodyguards or assassins also murder Trotsky?!"

Vakim turned to the audience and declared righteously, "She's lying! The truth is Trotsky is dead. Maybe she didn't do it herself, but she's the one who caused his death!"

"She's trying to deceive everyone with selective statements! Partial truth is not the truth!"

The crowd gasped, and when they looked at He Changyi again, they were wary, while the hot-tempered ones were already cursing.

"You actually think we're fools! Damn Chinese, damn Tatars!"

"Don't even think about lying to us again!"

We need the real truth!

The crowd was agitated; if it weren't for the bodyguards forming a human wall, they would have charged forward.

But Jong-kook, the boss on stage, even showed a relaxed smile.

"The truth?"

She looked at Vakim and asked in a questioning tone, "Are you sure it was 'me' who killed Trotsky?"

Waqim sneered, "I'm a journalist, I only report the truth! You murderer, don't even think about deceiving anyone anymore!"

Boss Zhong Guo nodded, seemingly very satisfied with the answer.

Please remember what you said.

A bad feeling inexplicably welled up in Vakim's heart.

No, this must be an illusion!

However, the boss of Zhongguo raised her hand in an invitation, gesturing for someone in the audience to come up, and then she called out loudly:

"I will bring the truth to you all!"

Before he finished speaking, a hooded, timid-looking man walked onto the stage and turned to face the audience.

Boss Zhong Guo said with a beaming smile:

"Honey, say hello to everyone."

When the hood was removed, it revealed a chubby, balding middle-aged man.

Even though he was not well-known before, everyone in Irbuyat knew him after newspapers with close-up photos of his face were published throughout the city.

Although he looked a bit thinner and more listless, his distinctive bald head, fleshy nose, and a large mole above his left eyebrow all testified to his identity.

"Trotsky..."

The audience below the stage read out his name in disbelief.

"Isn't he dead?"

"What? Trotsky is still alive!"

"So the murder case is fake... then what's true in the newspapers?!"

"It turns out the real liars were the journalists and the newspaper!"

Vakim was so shocked he was speechless; he opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single word.

At this moment, the man on the stage spoke:

"I am Trotsky, I am not dead, the reports are false."

"No, you're the fake one!"

Vakim finally managed to squeeze out a scream from his throat: "You're a double! You're wearing a human skin mask! You're not the real Trotsky!"

Trotsky snapped impatiently, "You utterly stupid journalist! I'm still alive, I don't need you to publish my obituary in the newspaper! Just wait for the court summons, I'll sue you until you go bankrupt!"

Vakim's lips trembled, barely able to speak, only muttering repeatedly, "No, no, no..."

The Chinese boss asked kindly, "Reporter Vakim, is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Before he could answer, her smile vanished, and she even looked cold.

"This is the truth."

-----------------------

Author's note: I originally planned to write a short 10,000 words a day, as an extra chapter for the long review from my classmate who was enjoying flowers, wine, and singing. I even made sure to drink two cups of coffee for this.

In short, I'm determined to earn 10,000 a day!