And Declan Newhart?

From a small-time gangster back in the day, he made his first bucket of gold by running casinos and bathhouses, and then started indulging in daydreams of becoming someone with status and power.

But, ultimately, he's just a thug.

Even if he helps the higher-ups with tasks, in their eyes, he's just being used.

Yet he enjoys it and almost doesn't care about his brothers anymore.

Rosie has been working herself to the bone to stabilize the situation, rising early and working late; without her, morale would have disintegrated long ago.

The situation is already one-sided.

Declan Newhart, who thought he had victory in his grasp, is finally starting to feel fear.

Back then, faced with such circumstances, he would have gambled for it, but he's no longer who he used to be; with a knife at his throat, he's already trembling in fear.

Dirk Carter's crisis was resolved.

He walked up to Declan Newhart.

He asked, "Where's the weapon?"

Declan Newhart didn't want to answer.

Dirk Carter grabbed a machete, held it in his hand, and asked again, "I'll ask you one more time, where's the weapon?"

Declan Newhart pretended not to hear.

Without another word, Dirk Carter raised the machete, slashed down, and with a tearing sound, cut into Declan Newhart's arm, causing instant flesh wounds and blood to gush out, causing him to grimace and scream in pain.

Tyson Ross hadn't seen such a scene before.

Terrified, he fell onto the floor, and a warm liquid flowed from below him.

He directly wet himself with fear.

"I'll ask you again, where's the weapon?"

Dirk Carter asked coldly.

Declan Newhart didn't believe Dirk Carter would continue slashing, just wanted to brace himself, but then saw Dirk Carter raise the machete again.

Scared out of his wits.

He pointed to the safe in the corner of the tea room, begging, "Don't slash, don't slash, it's inside, inside the safe..."

Rosie heard this.

She opened the safe and indeed found a dagger wrapped in a plastic bag inside, a dagger Dirk Carter recognized as the one Rand Quance had used to threaten him.

While they were entangled.

Tyson Ross had already moved bit by bit to the doorway of the tea room.

Seeing he was about to escape.

Rosie gave a signal with her eyes.

Her men stopped him.

Terrified, Tyson Ross shivered and said, "Don't touch me, I'm the deputy director of The County Committee, if you touch me, none of you will have a good outcome."

Dirk Carter glanced at him.

Ordered, "Let him go."

Rosie looked surprised and said, "But he knows who the mastermind is."

"I said, let him go."

Dirk Carter repeated.

Rosie had no choice but to wave her hand, signaling her men to release him.

Tyson Ross escaped narrowly, fleeing the scene in panic.

"Dirk, why did you let him go? This guy is just a pushover, hit him a couple of times, and he'd probably spill."

Rosie asked in confusion.

Dirk Carter sighed and said, "He's a pushover, but the one above him is not. The mastermind would kill to conceal his identity, and we don't have enough evidence to directly take him down. If he names that person in front of you, not one of you here will get away unscathed."

Hearing this.

Rosie shivered a little.

Asked, "So... you're not asking because... because you're afraid of implicating us?"

Of course, she knew Dirk Carter really wanted to know the result, but because they were all present, he didn't want to implicate them, so he chose not to ask.

Around midnight at eleven.

A police car hurriedly drove into the hospital gates.

After the car doors opened.

Vincent Eames and several officers quickly got out of the car, sprinting into the hospital.

Soon.

They arrived at Dirk Carter's ward.

The guard at the door was dozing off but instantly woke up at the sound of footsteps, looked up and saw the superior had come, and quickly stood up.

"Where's Dirk Carter?"

Vincent Eames asked.

The guard rubbed his eyes and said, "He's inside."

"Inside my ass, you're in trouble, kid."

Vincent Eames rebuked.

He directly pushed open the ward door.

About to lose his temper, but the sight before him made him quite incredulous.

At the moment, Dirk Carter was just lying on the hospital bed, with handcuffs still on his left wrist.

Doctor Rosalind Sullivan was holding a stethoscope, carefully listening to Dirk Carter's heartbeat, seemingly showing no anomalies.

Vincent Eames still found it hard to believe.

He had received a call from the higher-ups claiming that Dirk Carter had escaped, which was why he rushed over, yet Dirk Carter was lying there in his bed.

He hurried to check Dirk Carter's handcuffs.

Made a thorough check in the bathroom as well, finding no sign of anything unusual.

Rosalind Sullivan frowned, displeased, and said, "What's wrong with you people? Haven't I told you many times? No one is allowed in without my approval."

Vincent Eames walked to the window.

His gaze fell on Dirk Carter.

At that moment, Rosalind Sullivan, her back to Vincent Eames, looked a bit frantic, her exposed eyes filled with anxiety.

"Director Eames, what's going on? In the middle of the night, are you not going to conduct a surprise interrogation?"

Dirk Carter asked quietly.

Vincent Eames paused, a bit deflated, and instructed his men, "We're leaving!"

After they walked out.

Rosalind Sullivan let out a sigh of relief, removed her mask, her face flushed, and said, "Give me back my clothes!"

Dirk Carter then lifted the quilt.

Inside the bed.

Was a full set of Rosalind Sullivan's underwear.

Meaning, at the moment, Rosalind Sullivan was just wearing a lab coat, beneath it was all bare.

Given the urgent situation.

When Dirk Carter climbed through the fire escape, the police cars also arrived downstairs, so having Rosalind Sullivan put all her clothes on was simply too late.

She had no choice but to throw on a lab coat.

If Vincent Eames had checked under the quilt at that time, Rosalind Sullivan would have been utterly humiliated.

"Close your eyes, you're not allowed to look."

The crisis averted.

Rosalind Sullivan softly scolded.

Then turned away, took the underwear, and started putting it on piece by piece.

"Doctor Sullivan, I won't peek; after all, I've already seen it before."

Dirk Carter mumbled.

Rosalind Sullivan's face turned even redder with embarrassment, glaring with an expression that she wished she could tear Dirk Carter to shreds.

As she buttoned up the last button.

She coldly smiled and said, "Oh, Dirk Carter, just you wait. I won't let you have it easy for the time being."

After saying this, she directly opened the ward door, calling out, "Director Eames, Director Eames, could you come over?"

Vincent Eames was already feeling extremely irritated.

Had it not been for Rosalind Sullivan's father, he might have exploded already.

Hearing Rosalind Sullivan call him, he asked with a somewhat sarcastic tone, "Doctor Sullivan, what is it now?"

Rosalind Sullivan pointed to the ward.

Said, "The patient's condition has stabilized, you can conduct normal interrogation now."

Bloody hell.

When Dirk Carter heard this, he cursed internally.

Rosalind Sullivan turned, her eyes provocatively meeting his.

She said, "If you're heartless, don't blame me for being unkind. Just wait, it won't be easy for you."

Hearing the authorization for interrogation.

Vincent Eames expressed gratitude to Rosalind Sullivan.

He gestured with his hand.

Several officers entered the ward.

Rosalind Sullivan folded her arms, standing aside, seemingly watching the drama unfold, waiting for Dirk Carter's misfortune.

After Vincent Eames entered.

He sneered and said, "Comrade Dirk Carter, the doctor has said you're fine, so stop pretending with us. Now tell me, where's the weapon?"

"I didn't kill anyone!"

Dirk Carter said.

Vincent Eames's eyes turned colder.

He asked again, "This is my last time asking you, where's the weapon?"

Dirk Carter took a deep breath: "Then this is my last time answering you, I didn't kill anyone!"

Vincent Eames stayed calm.

Extended his hand.

A nearby officer handed him a stun baton...

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