Landlord in the Arctic

Chapter 420: Chapter 307: Turning Point

To avoid trouble, Feng Shan slowly reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, his movements unhurried and natural.

But after fumbling around in the pocket for a moment, he flashed an awkward smile and pulled his hand back.

He then remembered that he had left his identification with Nash back when they were changing clothes at the western wear shop.

"One moment. I’ll have my companion bring my identification over," Feng Shan said before turning to Nash and yelling, "Toss me my ID!"

Hearing this, Nash didn’t say a word. He pulled Feng Shan’s ID from his pocket, and with a flick of his arm, tossed it in Feng Shan’s direction.

Feng Shan caught it cleanly.

He then tossed the ID to Sheriff Ronnie. It sailed through the air in a perfect arc, landing squarely in the sheriff’s hand.

Catching the ID, Sheriff Ronnie first examined its exterior carefully before flipping it open to inspect the contents.

’An ID from the state of Alaska?’

’That frozen wasteland.’

’Crown Land Chief, Feng Shan.’

Sheriff Ronnie held the ID, carefully comparing the photo to the man standing before him.

He then radioed the ID number in to his superiors.

The response came back quickly. The identification was valid.

With the ID confirmed, Sheriff Ronnie finally began to relax.

He holstered his pistol.

Then, he walked toward Feng Shan.

"Alright, fellas, what in the world is going on here? I got a call that an Yves violated his visitation rights and forcibly took Fiona, so I rushed over. But this looks more like a scene from a damn Western. This is quite a setup you’ve got!"

Sheriff Ronnie spoke as he walked, his brow deeply furrowed. He looked around in confusion at the chaotic scene and the group of Zorro Gang members being held by the Indians.

He was baffled, completely unable to make sense of the situation.

Valerie, who had just wet herself, was no longer concerned with her pathetic appearance.

Her hair was a mess, and she scrambled up from the ground like a madwoman.

All she wanted was to get away from this dangerous, terrifying place as quickly as possible.

And then find a way to have Feng Shan arrested.

She had only taken a few steps before the rope tied around her went taut, choking her by the neck.

As the rope jerked tight, she lost her balance and fell heavily to the ground.

Valerie cried out in pain, "AGH!"

But even so, Valerie frantically shouted to Sheriff Ronnie.

"That’s right, Sheriff! Arrest him! He’s the one who encouraged Yves to take Fiona! He even told these Indians to take us to their reservation to be skinned and used as fertilizer! You have to arrest him! He’s terrifying!"

"Are you serious, pal?"

Upon hearing this, the expression on Sheriff Ronnie’s face changed instantly, becoming deadly serious.

His hand instinctively went back to his sidearm, fingers curling slightly, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.

A wary look entered his eyes as his gaze swept from Feng Shan to the people around him and back again.

Finally, he turned his head and looked at Feng Shan, saying nothing, simply waiting for a reasonable explanation.

"Of course not. She must have misheard. I meant I was inviting them to be guests on the reservation," Feng Shan said with a helpless shrug, spreading his hands. With a candid expression, he continued, "On the contrary, it was Lady Valery and Mr. Bao Wen who were planning to kidnap me. They intended to take me across the border into Mexico."

Feng Shan knew perfectly well that he absolutely could not admit to planning to turn people into fertilizer on the reservation.

Even though Nash and his tribesmen were just joking around, if the accusation stuck, it would mean huge trouble. He could even get dragged into a major lawsuit.

Things were different in the United States than back home; sometimes a single joke could have unimaginable consequences.

So he had to use the kidnapping accusation to change the subject and steer clear of that dangerous topic.

"Bullshit! Everyone heard him! He’s the one who said it! Ronnie, if you don’t believe me, ask Xiao! He heard it crystal clear."

Valerie had completely abandoned any sense of decorum. Sprawled on the gravelly ground, she raised a finger and pointed at a white man with an earring among the Zorro Gang members.

’Me??’

’Dammit, why didn’t you pick someone else?’

The man with the earring’s expression turned ugly, and he silently cursed Valerie.

’I don’t want any part of this mess.’

’If I get on the bad side of these Indians, life is going to get a lot harder for me.’

Besides, ratting on gang business to the cops went against the code of loyalty.

Under the watchful eyes of both Feng Shan and Sheriff Ronnie, he gritted his teeth and gave a firm shake of his head.

"Sorry, I didn’t hear clearly."

"Xiao, what are you talking about? You heard him!" Valerie froze, clearly not expecting Xiao’s response. Then, as if she’d gone mad, her eyes widened with desperation and fury. "No, that’s not right!" she shrieked hysterically. "O’Neal! Kubo! Ugo! You guys say something! Tell Ronnie what really happened!"

But the gang members she called out all lowered their heads, one after another. As if by some unspoken agreement, their silence was her only answer.

Because in American gang culture, "never talk to the police" is a core tenet of loyalty.

The tight bond between gang members is like a contract, a concept of loyalty born from the gang’s need for self-preservation as an alternative social structure.

Even in a losing battle between rival gangs, members caught by the police are expected to say nothing.

It’s a self-preservation mechanism. Every member knows that if they give information to the police, they will become a target for the gang’s retaliation.