North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 591 - 334_1

"The attorney's name was Barnaby. He was a talented graduate with a very promising future due to his excellent professional skills. However, he later became industry scum, someone everyone despised, ultimately falling to the point of working for immigrants and intermediaries."

Carlo drove, taking Dean to the lawyer's house, and briefly shared the lawyer's situation on the way.

During the time Dean had been away, Carlo and Harry had been forced to manage things by themselves. Carlo, especially, had become much more articulate and showed significant improvement.

"What kind of integrity issues?"

Dean became interested.

The reputation and professional spirit of an attorney are very important. Once tarnished, it's like a prostitute trying to marry after reforming her ways. No matter how good her skills, if there's a choice, clients wouldn't be willing to marry her. Ordinary integrity issues wouldn't lead an outstanding attorney to become what everyone called trash. So, Barnaby must have made some fundamental mistakes.

Sure enough, hearing Dean's curiosity, Carlo, who was usually reserved, showed a sly smile. "This guy, while handling a divorce case for a young, wealthy man, hooked up with the man's wife. Then the two of them legally set a trap and turned the wealthy man into a pauper. As it turned out, the wealthy man's wife secretly had many other lovers. During a drug-fueled orgy, when she was high, she blurted out the whole affair."

WOW!

Dean's face showed sudden understanding.

Seducing his client's wife and then swallowing his client's wealth. This was much more serious than issues like being loose-lipped or incompetent. The legal circle isn't that large, and no one is foolish enough to hire such a person. No wonder this guy became synonymous with industry trash.

"But this guy is indeed capable."

Admiration flashed across Carlo's face. "Harry previously got Barnaby's information from a friend.

"After his reputation plummeted in the industry, Barnaby decisively abandoned his elite lawyer persona, lowered his status, and actively approached those black intermediaries in Los Angeles. He became their legal consultant, helping them avoid legal issues.

"Barnaby was nearly shot in the process. The bankrupted wealthy man found the Mexican illegal workers Barnaby had cheated and told them Barnaby's advice was why they couldn't defend their rights. So, those Mexicans came after Barnaby with guns. Barnaby was lucky; the bullet only cost him part of his liver, not his life.

"A normal person wouldn't dare continue such things after that. After all, in a country where handguns are easily accessible, no one dares to excessively exploit illegal workers who are already living very hard lives.

"But Barnaby was different. After getting out of the hospital, he learned his lesson. He no longer worked with intermediaries of other ethnicities but focused on handling business for Asian black intermediaries, particularly those from China. There are many Chinese black intermediaries and many undocumented immigrants from there. The key is that most of them are non-confrontational, have low education levels, and many can't even manage basic communication when they arrive. As long as there's a glimmer of hope, they absolutely won't go to extremes.

"Barnaby also noticed that the Federation uses many agents to stir up sentiment in China each year, leading people there to view the United States as a paradise. As long as China doesn't rise, this endless stream of 'piglets' can always be exploited. He realized these Chinese-run black intermediaries were his hope for a comeback, so he focused most of his energy on their circles.

"This time, Barnaby was even more ruthless. He delved into the law, advising these black intermediaries on how to legally extort money from undocumented workers who had entered the United States illegally. After squeezing them dry, he would sell the 'piglets'—sending the men to remote, illegal cannabis farms, and the women... HEH. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Gradually, this became an industrial chain. Barnaby's income became much higher than before. He even opened a law firm specifically serving those Chinese black intermediaries, leeching off this community."

Listening to Carlo's narration, Dean fell silent. He couldn't help but think of the cargo ship he had encountered in the battle royale game before. On that ship, too, was a group of stowaways.

Generally, those who come here through illegal channels are from the lower strata of society. They are either trying to turn their lives around or to provide a better life for their families back home, filled with various dreams and facing all kinds of dangers to reach this country, a place of harsh realities. Unfortunately, the outside world is not as wonderful as they imagine. They're like the migrating herds on the African plains, not only preyed upon by jackals and plagued by insects sucking their blood and eating their flesh along the way, but also targeted by a large group of 'their own people'—those who couldn't make it in this country and now prey on them for sustenance. That's the reality.

Dean shook his head, dismissing the emerging sympathy in his heart.

The path was their own choice. If, in the future, he truly rose to power and became an influential figure, he might do something for these unfortunate compatriots. But until then, Dean chose to respect the destinies of others.

Barnaby's home was in a wealthy district of Los Angeles. Of course, it was only relatively wealthy, probably belonging to the upper tier of Los Angeles's middle class. A property here was worth about three million US dollars. The annual property tax was 0.51%. While not considered high, it still amounted to 15,000 to 20,000 US dollars. Including property management fees, basic repairs for the garden, lawn, and house, community activities, expenses for maintaining neighborly relations, and so on, the total additional annual expenditure for living here was no less than 50,000 US dollars.