Chapter 114

When we were about 1,000 feet away from Bob's house, we saw a bright red glow coming from a room on the third floor.

Thick smoke was billowing out of the windows, accompanied by flames greedily licking the outer walls. The air conditioning ducts had already been destroyed, and the fire seemed to be spreading towards the roof.

From a distance, it looked like a piece of meat stained with fresh blood, rotting and corroding in this winter.

A crowd had already gathered below. The taxi in front stopped, and Bob shouted "Dad!" without any hesitation. He dashed through the crowd and rushed towards the third floor, with Shirley following closely behind.

The driver stopped the car, craned his neck to look at the flames, and shouted, "Damn, whose house is on fire? There must be someone inside, why hasn't anyone called the fire department?"

I didn't have time to chat with him; the $100 fare was enough.

I opened the car door, rushed through the crowd, and followed the two into the building.

The fire hadn't spread to the lower floors yet. Ignoring the people around me, I heard noises from above, indicating that Bob had already started breaking down the door. I quickly climbed the stairs, taking three or four steps at a time, heading towards the third floor.

As soon as I reached the third floor, Bob forcefully broke down the door and stumbled inside due to the inertia.

"Dad!" Bob cried out, his voice choked with sobs.

I hurried in after him and realized something was wrong. Only the balcony in the living room was on fire, with a pile of clothes and gasoline creating the illusion of a large fire, but the entire living room was empty, and there was no sign of a fire elsewhere.

Bob searched every room but couldn't find Cedric.

We had been tricked!

This was a trap to lure us here!

"Quick, it's a trap!"

I shouted, turning to leave.

Suddenly, the door to Shirley's room on the right opened halfway, and a lifeless Cedric, slumped in a wheelchair, appeared at the door.

I was genuinely startled. The last time we saw Cedric, he had his back to us, so we didn't see his face.

Eighty percent of his face was burned, leaving only his eyes and forehead unscathed. It must have been an old injury from a severe burn, with the skin and fat on his face shriveled and covered in tiny holes. Anyone seeing it for the first time would be horrified, especially at night.

No wonder he had his back to us that day.

Was it an old injury from the fire at the old steel mill?

I wondered to myself.

"Too late... the opportunity has already been given to you."

Unlike before, Ronald, who was usually covered in grease, was now dressed in clean sportswear. He pushed the wheelchair slowly out of the room.

"Ms. Johnson, hello." Ronald greeted me with a smile.

"Ronald! You despicable, untrustworthy scoundrel, let my dad go!"

Bob roared, ready to charge forward, but Ronald's right hand slowly moved the gun to Cedric's temple.

"Sometimes I wonder, which one is the real you? The one crushed by life, living like a dog in Shadow City, or the once arrogant, self-proclaimed genius you?"

Ronald sighed twice, shaking his head as he looked at Bob.

"Neither of you listens, and I don't like disobedient children."

"I wasn't disobedient!" Bob cried, "Please let us go. Ever since we left the old steel mill, I've done everything you asked. We've made you so much money. You promised not to bother us anymore, and I wouldn't leave Shadow City."

Ronald looked at Bob with pity and sighed.

"Disobedient child, you're still arguing."

His voice was incredibly gentle, his face showing reluctance like a father patiently reasoning with a wayward son. But at this moment, it sounded like the voice of a devil.

"Frank's little scheme, inciting you to kill Douglas, and you went along with it? Douglas was such an obedient child, and now he's dead. It was just a bit of childish mischief, wasn't it? If he was dead, then so be it. I said back then, the grudges were settled!"

Ronald said sternly, his eyes flashing with ferocity.

"Douglas was a bastard, a motherless child. He was worse than a bastard!" Bob glared at Ronald, speaking viciously. I could even hear the grinding of his teeth.

"Disobedient, huh? Tell me, did Tom die? No, he didn't. Isn't he the number one person in Silverlight City? He's made a lot of money over the years, and I've helped a lot. Did Frank die? No, he didn't. He even thought of opposing me."

Ronald sighed deeply, shaking his head at Bob.

"You all don't realize, if it weren't for me, you'd be dead long ago. I'm your savior. I've spent so much effort nurturing you. But never mind, young people these days don't like to hear this. Douglas is dead, and you all are fighting among yourselves, trying to kill Laura. Frank is doing everything to protect Laura. Seeing your incompetence makes me feel sad. Laura killed George back then, yes, I instructed her. I also suggested to deceive the kids from Sand Village. Now, Bob, tell me why?"

Bob's eyes were filled with fear. He was terrified of the person in front of him, trembling uncontrollably and shaking his head instinctively.

"Wasn't it for your unity and friendship? I even took care of the kids from Sand Village for your sake."

Ronald frowned, looking disappointed. He took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, took a deep drag, and pointed at Bob.

"But you and Mike, I'm very disappointed."

"I've been thinking, how did they suddenly know that Laura was the one who killed George? It's impossible. Only Laura, Douglas, and I knew. After much thought, I realized there was one more person who knew. Ms. Johnson, my daughter's mentor, can you guess who it is?"

I said coldly. "You don't deserve to be Zoey's father."

"Look, Bob, you two are classmates. Look at Ms. Johnson, then look at yourself."

Ronald pointed at me, then at Bob, looking disappointed.

"Ms. Johnson hit my weak spot with just one sentence. But... it doesn't matter. Ms. Johnson, your criminal investigation talent isn't as good as my daughter's, but your logical reasoning ability far surpasses Zoey's. Leonard couldn't keep you in the prosecutor's office back then, which was a loss for the office and his incompetence."

"Back to the point, Ms. Johnson, can you guess why they knew Laura was the one who killed George? Who told them?"

"George didn't die."

I stared at Ronald, sneering.

"You didn't expect that the one who died was the cook. George didn't die; he's sitting in the wheelchair right now."