My American magical life
Chapter 720 - 720 12 Into the Vortex!

720: Chapter 12 Into the Vortex!

720: Chapter 12 Into the Vortex!

Order is not something that develops naturally with the progress of social productivity.

It is a luxury pursued by politicians, a frail crown adorned with jewels, the most easily shattered of unforgiving things.

The name of order is so wonderful, troubling many nations and ethnicities, yet in America, order seems to be taken for granted.

Gangs are everywhere, drugs are rampant, and shootings occur frequently, but the people of America seem all too accustomed to it!

Have they been so stupid as to be brainwashed by the media to this extent?

To the point where they are unfazed by the hellish scenes around them?

Of course not, it is a long struggle, the old order is collapsing, and a new order will be established, a process that is common everywhere.

The only difference in America is that it has plundered the greatest wealth in the world, relying on the trading system and the US Dollar to bleed the globe dry, to sustain itself.

That endless supply of fresh blood has injected America’s sick body with active, passionate, satisfied external forces, creating the crown of this chaotic empire.

But with such prosperity often comes easy downfall.

When America’s economy began to face problems, some more severe derivative issues arose.

What happens when the budget of the LAPD cannot keep up with the increased workload of the officers?

Our dear Chief Glu pulled up that terrifying gang of two thousand members under the guise of legitimacy!

California doesn’t care if the officers can’t make ends meet, neither does the federal government.

But our dear Chief Glu cares!

Glu, born from America’s inefficient, corrupt, and cowardly political system, rose in power inversely to America’s decline.

Niu Sen couldn’t understand how Glu came to this, Achilles couldn’t imagine that such a monster had emerged from the unseen bottom of the pyramid, Wolf, Crusoe, and others felt the same.

Their wealth and status came so easily; they couldn’t understand what gave Glu the audacity to do what he did.

What gave him the right?

Glu distributed black money to his subordinates, Glu bought insurance for his subordinates, Glu arranged a future for his subordinates’ families!

Imagine, if you were a police officer who joined the LAPD in ’06, got married in ’07, bought a house with a loan at the peak of the housing prices in America.

Then, the increase in your salary wasn’t enough, the rise in living costs from inflation added pressure to your mortgage, and you wanted your kids to attend better schools, so you willingly clenched your teeth and bore it.

Before heading home each night, you’d sit in your car smoking one cigarette after another because of financial stress, not wanting to face it just yet.

Aging parents, adorable children, a weary wife, not a hefty salary, and substantial expenses.

You are now an ordinary officer, but there was a time when you were a good young man, and back then, your girl was so beautiful it made hearts flutter.

But life has crushed both you and her, and it’s not that you’re afraid of being tired, but you always feel guilty seeing that girl who belongs to you just as exhausted, and you can’t help but feel remorse.

You want to take some kickbacks, but you’re terrified of being wiped out.

For now, you can barely manage, but if you were to lose your job or even get prosecuted…

Every year, the LAPD’s budget only grows slightly, but the budget for the disciplinary department always increases the most.

Those people are relentless and merciless, and corrupt cops are their performance indicators.

The higher-ups in America take the most kickbacks, yet they always act so righteous and indignant, a laughable and infuriating reality that deepens your despair.

You go to your weary job, day after day, with the future of your family and your own life weighing on your shoulders; your path is incredibly tough.

Then, at some moment, your colleague tells you, “Hey, have you heard?

Glu, that Glu, he has a way…”

And then, you joined Chief Glu’s legitimate gang.

Ten years later, you drive your car, wearing sunglasses, boasting to the new recruits,

“Back in the day, I was one of the first.

Chief Glu was just a humble detective then.

We made five hundred Dollars, and four hundred had to go to the higher-ups; we kept a hundred, and Chief Glu didn’t take a cent of it, gave it all to us.”

“The higher-ups?

You had to give four hundred to the higher-ups?

Who are these higher-ups?”

The new recruit’s expression tightens, inquisitively asking.

“Those who make us spare no effort at work.”

You flick the ash from your cigarette, held in the hand resting on the car window, driving with one hand, and say meaningfully.

“I still feel this isn’t right.

After all, we’re supposed to be…”

The young recruit still has some sense of justice, and you know what he’s trying to say, so you cut him off,

“We’re just making an honest dollar.

The robbers on Wall Street make a few million just by tapping on a keyboard, politicians nod their heads and pass a bill for a few million.

What’s our bit of black money compared to that?

Kid, you should know that an extra thousand Dollars can buy your mom a nice sofa or something else.

The worst people in this country aren’t in prison, but instead, well, you used to be a traffic cop, you should have some experience.”

The young guy goes silent.

You smile and are about to shoot the breeze some more when a familiar, yet strange voice comes through the police radio.

“Seven o’clock tonight, assemble at headquarters, anyone who receives this come by yourselves, repeat, eveni…”

It’s Jax, and you frown.

Ever since Glu became the LAPD chief, you were reassigned to a strange division, as if to hold a place for the gang.

It’s been a long time since you had a chat with Jax.

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