Twins in Her Womb: Sir President, Please be Gentle by Heap Heap

The police officer ignored him and said to his colleague, "Look, he speaks fluent English."
Then, he said to Amur with a stern expression on his face, "Do you think this is self-defense? You almost beat that person to a
pulp. Come on in and cooperate with us for your statement."
Amur did not seem to care. In the interrogation room, two police officers took turns questioning him about what had happened.
He had already prepared his statement and did not admit to assaulting anyone, insisting that it was self-defense.
The police officers questioned him for over an hour, but Amur only maintained his stance of acting in self-defense. There was
nothing they could do about it.
Furthermore, Amur did not request a lawyer.
"Lock him up first," said one of the police officers. He thought that detaining someone like him, a foreigner, behind bars for a little
while would make him cooperate. They had other matters to attend to, and they could not waste all their time on an inconclusive
interrogation. "We'll wait for updates from the hospital."
"Alright. Should we put him in the same cell as those two Russians?" asked another officer.
A shadow of gloom flashed through Amur's lowered gaze as he heard that.
Abel had assigned him to personally deal with those two individuals. If he did not enter the police station, there was no way he
could do it. He had no choice but to resort to beating up two ruffians who were harassing women on the street.
He knew how to strike with just the right force. Even though the injuries on the ruffians appeared severe, a closer examination at
the hospital would reveal that they were not life-threatening, and they only lost some blood.
This way, he would be able to enter the station and get out of it quickly, accomplishing Abel's assigned task.
"I don't think that's a good idea. They're convicted felons. I'm afraid this kid might suffer if we put him in the same cell. Let's place
him in the cell where the other person who came in for a fight is," replied the police officer. Deep down in his heart, someone who
possessed firearms and explosives was much more terrifying than Amur, and the circumstances were more severe.
"Okay," the other officer agreed. After all, there were many people who caused trouble. The police station did not have any
vacant single cells anymore.
Amur was locked up inside.

As soon as he entered, he exchanged glances with another man.
The man's face was bruised and swollen, but his gaze was wicked, giving the impression that he was not someone to be messed
with.
He whistled. Noticing Amur's ethnic facial features, he protested to the police officer. "Officer Larsen, even if you want to assign
me a 'roommate,' can't you find someone who speaks English?"
Officer Larsen glanced at him disdainfully. The man's name was Hoffman, and he was a regular at the police station who
frequently got brought in for questioning and detention due to his involvement in fights and disturbances.
"He speaks English. Hoffman, you'd better behave yourself and stay quiet. If you cause any trouble, don't blame us for not
playing nice," said Larsen, fearing that Hoffman would start a fight with Amur.
Hoffman was a thug from the underworld. Half of the time, he was brought into the police station was because of his involvement
in fights. As for the other half, he was just taking the blame for his so-called boss.
Moreover, Hoffman was not well-behaved at the police station. If he did not get along with someone in the same detention cell,
he would provoke them into a fight.
Eventually, the police got tired of dealing with such trivial matters and placed Hoffman in a separate cell.
This time, they had no choice but to lock Amur up with him. There were no available empty detention cells left.
Officer Larsen believed that putting Amur together with those two Russians would be a major problem.
Hoffman nodded with a smirk, telling him that he understood. Once the police left, he suppressed his smile and scrutinized Amur
from head to toe.
The Russians had the advantage in height. Hoffman observed the taller man without a trace of fear in his mind.
This guy may appear towering, but that did not mean he would be tougher in a fight!
Hoffman asked, "Kid, what did you do to end up here?"
Amur lowered his gaze, leaned against the wall, and recalled what had happened just now. As he followed the police here, he
saw Alexsei and Kazimir, and they saw him too.

Perhaps they knew that time was running out...
Their fate was sealed with death if they could not escape from this place.
Even though they came from the same place, Amur did not feel sorry for what would happen to them later.
On the Island of Despair, anyone could face such a fate. One would be devoured if one was not strong enough.
"Hey, do you really understand English?" Hoffman could not help but land a solid kick right on Amur when he remained silent and
fearless. It was as though he was lost in thoughts.
As the kick landed, Hoffman met Amur's gaze and felt a tremor in his heart.
He could sense a deeper level of darkness in this man's eyes compared to the underworld bosses he had encountered.
It was terrifying!
Realizing his inner fear, Hoffman secretly cursed himself. How could he be afraid of him? He was just a foreigner.
Was there a scenario he had not come across yet?
Even if this man were to come for him, Hoffman was not afraid at all. They were in a police station. Could Amur really cause
chaos here?
After pondering for a moment, Hoffman coldly snorted and bolstered himself. "What's with that look? Let me tell you, this is my
territory. If you don't want to get beaten up, you'd better behave yourself and call me 'Boss.' Otherwise, I'll make sure you leave
on a stretcher."
Then, his fist twitched as though he was threatening him.
"Why were you locked up?" Amur suddenly asked.
Hoffman was startled for a moment. "You really can speak English. If you're willing to call me 'Boss' and become my underling
when you get out, I'll tell you my story. But I'm afraid it might scare you."
He did not mention what crime he had committed, but Amur could already see that Hoffman was not a good person.
He was not wrongly accused. With his bruised and swollen face, it was clear he had been in a fight.

Although he looked disheveled, it was obvious that Hoffman had emerged victorious from the brawl.
Amur rose to his feet.
Hoffman felt the weight of his gaze, and a sense of oppression crept in. "Is there anything I haven't done? If you're willing to
acknowledge me as your boss, I'll take you out, treat you to the finest things, and introduce you to all the beauties in A City!"
"You're not a good person," Amur summed up Hoffman in four words.
Hoffman did not care much. "Who among those who end up here is a good person? I'm a regular here, and I'm familiar with the
police officers. I can continue my glory on the streets in a few days once I'm out of here."
Hoffman thought that if he took Amur as his underling, it would be quite glorious.
Having such a tall and sturdy sidekick could be quite intimidating to opponents. Even if Armur could not fight, his mere presence
exuded dominance. He could easily intimidate others.
Hoffman proudly thought about it, never expecting Amur's fist to come straight at his abdomen.
"Ugh!" Hoffman took a solid punch and crashed into the wall.
"You!" The pain made him see stars. He tried to raise his hand to accuse Amur, but he could hardly form a complete sentence.
"What other bad things have you done?" Amur, deliberately provoking, knew that Hoffman was no good person. Justifiably, he
threw another punch at his face.