Zhou Qingfeng took away Old Chris’s encrypted hard drive, along with a handwritten notebook recording accounts and passwords.
He departed from the Chris Clan’s farm on a helicopter arranged by Kelly, and arrived at Jennifer’s mansion in the suburbs of Miami.
He randomly found a computer, connected the encrypted hard drive, and discovered hundreds of bank credit accounts, Bitcoin cold wallets, and real estate controlled by offshore shell companies.
The Chris Clan accumulated wealth over two generations, amassing over sixty million US dollars, all of which were laundered and legitimized income.
The hard drive also contained a vast amount of insider data on black market transactions. The data itself was simple, but behind it lay a criminal network—a treasure trove for ’Gray Shark’.
Seven days quietly passed by.
The Florida human trafficking case had not subsided; instead, it blazed ever more fiercely in public discourse.
The FBI’s excavation work continued, leaving the Chris Clan’s farm and orchard a devastated graveyard.
Thirty-seven corpses were uncovered one by one, each silently denouncing the family’s crimes.
Yet, this might only be the tip of the iceberg.
The remaining gang members provided vague information during interrogation, and no one could clarify how many wronged souls were buried there.
A thousand-acre orchard and a ten-thousand-acre farm were like a boundless maze, impossible for the police to search thoroughly.
The true death toll would forever remain an unsolvable mystery.
Among the exhumed bodies, forensic personnel identified a small portion through DNA comparison and dental records.
The deceased were mostly ordinary people and foreign tourists who had disappeared in Florida over the past decade, with the youngest victim only twelve or thirteen years old. The majority of the victims were women.
The severity of the case shocked the world. In media reports, each name was followed by a shattered family and endless grief.
Besides the deceased Deputy Director Schulte and Director Matthew, more than a dozen Florida officials were caught up in the storm.
The United States Department of Justice had to intervene proactively, trying to quell the nationwide public outcry.
As a key figure in the case, William Congers was detained by the police.
Zhou Qingfeng hired a top-notch criminal defense team for him and applied for bail, but the judge decisively rejected it, citing ’too high a risk of flight.’
Even Zhou Qingfeng encountered some trouble himself—the pivotal shot that rescued Julia and her daughter was fired by him.
If it weren’t for Old Beck’s extensive network, he might have already been exposed by the media.
A week after the case broke, the FBI called Zhou Qingfeng, asking him to visit Jackson Medical Center in the city. Detective Carl Vincent, who narrowly escaped death, wanted to see him.
The hospital ward was quiet, with the ticking of monitoring instruments audible. The faint smell of disinfectant lingered, and the ventilation system hummed softly.
Carl Vincent lay in the hospital bed, his face pale but in good spirits. His wounds had healed well, though he had lost a portion of his tongue, making future speech and eating immensely difficult.
Upon seeing Zhou Qingfeng, he struggled to raise his hand, pointing to the bedside tablet computer and slowly typing.
"Kid, I owe you, and now I’m repaying it. I won’t pursue your lottery case anymore. If anyone else does, I won’t provide any leads either."
Zhou Qingfeng raised an eyebrow and nodded in response.
Carl continued typing: "You not only saved me, but you also dismantled a network of collusion between the police and human traffickers.
If it weren’t for you, this case couldn’t have been resolved so swiftly. I’m still amazed by this.
No matter why you did it, your travel and financial restrictions have been lifted. You can leave the country with your money anytime."
Zhou Qingfeng, however, shook his head and said, "Now that I’ve gained freedom, I’m not leaving."
Carl continued: "There’s only one thing I want to understand. How did you know about the lottery’s existence? And where did you get the guts to act?"
This question puzzled many who knew the inside story.
Zhou Qingfeng’s lips curled slightly. He calmly replied, "Detective, we’re even now. As for other secrets... I won’t tell you."
Carl stared into Zhou Qingfeng’s eyes, attempting to see through him. After a moment, his fingers moved on the screen again:
"Once I recover, I’ll return to the FBI and will likely be promoted to Deputy Director of the Miami Branch. If you commit any other crimes, I won’t let you off."
Zhou Qingfeng stood up, smiling meaningfully, "Then I wish you a speedy recovery and a quick return to work."
"What do you plan to do next?"
"Spend the money in my hands."