After a while, the voice on the other end of the line turned serious: "’Funeral Bell’ Chris, he’s a farm owner.
His family runs tens of thousands of acres of vegetable orchards in Hendry County, Florida. He hires large numbers of illegal immigrants every year to cut costs.
He also provides cheap labor to other farm owners in Florida, effectively controlling a human trafficking chain.
But we haven’t found any serious illegal evidence or clues, so we didn’t pay much attention. Are you sure there’s a problem with that guy?"
Hammer said, "You must have his current location and contact information. I’ll prove if he’s involved in serious crimes right away."
Half a minute later, Zhou Qingfeng received a coordinate and a phone number—yes, not a street address, but a real-time coordinate about 100 kilometers from White Beach Town.
Hammer sighed, "Victor, this Chris has no criminal record, and you have no evidence. He’s not easy to deal with."
Zhou Qingfeng didn’t hesitate and dialed that number first.
After a few rings, the call was answered by a rough voice asking, "Who are you looking for?"
"My name is Victor. I’m looking for ’Funeral Bell’ Chris," Zhou Qingfeng said in a deep voice.
The other side was obviously a bit surprised, "I’m Chris. Who the hell are you, and where did you get my number?"
Zhou Qingfeng continued, "I got your number from the Department of Homeland Security. I know you’re the biggest human trafficker in Florida.
Two days ago, Director Matthew from White Beach Town sent you a batch of illegal immigrants, including a mother and daughter named Julia and Selena.
I’m not going to hold you accountable or interfere with your human trafficking business. My request is simple—return that mother and daughter to me, and nothing will happen."
Before Zhou Qingfeng could finish, the other side burst out laughing, interrupting him dismissively, "Department of Homeland Security? You trying to scare me.
I’m a legitimate businessman, running my own farm, never involved in any illegal activities, and I have no idea who Julia and Selena are.
I don’t care where you got my number from. Here’s my answer to you... go to hell! Or... come at me if you have the guts!"
Zhou Qingfeng’s anger completely exploded.
Meanwhile, about a hundred kilometers from Miami, a family farm was immersed in a joyful barbecue party atmosphere.
A bonfire blazed on the open grass, the scent of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with laughter and the rhythm of country music, turning the entire farm into a paradise on earth.
As the eldest son of the family, John Chris had just hung up a call, cursing, "Fuck."
Old Chris was leisurely enjoying the family gathering nearby. He glanced at his son and asked, "What’s the matter?"
John Chris angrily replied, "Some bastard, don’t know from where, called demanding people from me. He said he got my number from the Department of Homeland Security.
That guy spoke like he ate shit, daring to threaten me. He said that Matthew from White Beach Town is done and wants me to return the people right away, or else he’d come for me.
I told him to go to hell."
At the long barbecue table, more than a dozen members of the Chris family were seated, enjoying a lavish dinner.
Hearing John’s words, there was a brief moment of silence at the table, but soon, laughter and clinking glasses resumed.
After all, threats and trouble were commonplace for this family. A mere threatening phone call was nothing unusual.
Only Old Chris remained serious. He put down his wine glass, beckoned a servant, and instructed, "Make a call to White Beach Town, find out the situation."
The servant nodded and quickly turned to leave.
At the same time, Zhou Qingfeng’s eyes were fixed on a few armored vehicles parked not far from him, brought by the National Guard.
The black vehicles shimmered with a cold luster under the moonlight, with massive tires, thick armor, and sturdy heavy machine guns, like machines of destruction ready for action.
Zhou Qingfeng walked up to the lieutenant who came to help tonight and asked calmly, "How much to borrow your military armored vehicles?"
The lieutenant was startled by the question and sternly refused, "That’s not possible."
Zhou Qingfeng didn’t back down, persisting, "Name a price, there has to be a price."