"Contact the Commissioner," Daisy suggested. "Commissioner George has always had a good reputation with the public. He holds a high position and won't be corrupted by money."
Brett was a bit stunned. He was just a small patrol officer; how could he contact the New York Police Department Commissioner?
New York has seventy-seven precincts, twelve traffic precincts, nine housing authority precincts, and over thirty thousand official police officers. In front of the Commissioner, he was nothing!
Moreover, reporting over his direct superior, no matter how he thought about it, was a rather serious matter.
The Black patrol officer had to weigh the impact of the entire incident on himself.
"If the Commissioner doesn't listen to my explanation, then I'm finished…" he said to Daisy, a little worried.
Daisy knew Commissioner George was a good person, but others didn't. She couldn't explain her source of information, so she remained silent, waiting for the Black patrol officer to make up his own mind.
"Alright, this is something that should be done. It's my mission!" After a while, the Black patrol officer, having imagined something, said with a firm tone, "But you have to come with me to see the Commissioner then."
Daisy had no objections. How to get in touch with the Commissioner was the Black patrol officer's business; she only needed to recount her findings when the time came.
Over the next few days, Daisy was very cautious. She didn't wander the streets anymore but instead joined a karate crash course and practiced for two days.
The last time she dealt with a few gang members, she realized her weakness: she was completely unskilled in close-quarters combat. Relying on shockwaves was not a long-term solution.
As a metropolis with tens of millions of people, New York naturally had places that taught martial arts. Xingyi, Wing Chun, Hung Gar—you could find them if you wanted to learn.
However, Daisy was short on time, so she could only find martial arts that were simple, easy to learn, and quick to pick up.
Between Taekwondo and Karate, she chose Karate.
In the evening, the Black patrol officer, who had been missing for three days, found her.
"Eating at your Commissioner's house? Brett, you're doing well!" Daisy and the Black patrol officer were now in the same boat, and their relationship had grown much closer.
On the way, Daisy was filled with emotion as she listened to Brett's experiences over the past two days. This Black man had truly pushed himself.
The Black patrol officer was quite clever; he didn't use the internal police email system. He acted like a rookie, and under the strange gazes of his colleagues, he quickly ran over and put a ticket on his Commissioner's official car.
The Commissioner was baffled. How did such an unobservant patrol officer get recruited into the police system? Out of a desire to mentor a junior, he stopped the Black patrol officer and spoke a few words.
His advice was interrupted before he finished, and the Black officer used this opportunity to quickly explain the situation.
Commissioner George wouldn't jump to conclusions. Reaching his position wasn't just about having a hot head.
This level of business certainly had connections on all sides, and he needed more evidence. That's why he invited them to dinner at his house that night.
The Commissioner seemed relatively incorruptible. He lived in a high-rise building in Manhattan's Upper East Side. The two exited the elevator and rang the doorbell of apartment 2016. A middle-aged man opened the door.
The man was somewhat thin, with blond hair, sharp eyes, and a serious demeanor. Even at home, he wore a suit and tie.
He scrutinized Daisy with his gaze before letting the two into the house.
The Commissioner's wife was very welcoming and invited them to eat together.
At the dinner table, Daisy met the other members of the Stacy family, starting with the famous Gwen. This blonde beauty looked about fourteen or fifteen, well-developed, and her gaze held a subtle hostility towards Daisy.
This was the first reaction of one beautiful woman seeing another, at least that's what Daisy thought.
There was also a half-grown boy, who looked about seven or eight. Daisy remembered they would have another boy in the future.
At the dinner table, she also saw the Stacy family's famous lemon bass.
To be honest, the cooking skills here were simply nightmare-level. Daisy had been transmigrated for two months, and besides the dishes from the maid, she hadn't had a single satisfying meal.
She had been making do with bread and vegetable salads every day. Now, finally seeing a proper meal, after being signaled that she could start eating, she devoured it with gusto.
How to eat bass was no issue for her. Coming from an incredible country, let alone bass, she could even eat crocodiles.
At first, Mrs. Stacy kindly asked her if she was used to the lifestyle, if she had many friends, but then seeing her eat happily, she also closed her mouth.
Practicing karate consumes energy, and using superpowers also consumes energy. Although she had mentioned it several times, the maid still cooked in a delicate style. To avoid looking like a glutton, Daisy hadn't had a truly enjoyable meal in a long time.
Beauty is justice; even if a beautiful woman does something bad, she can be whitewashed, let alone just eating a lot?
She showed no concern for manners or demeanor, eating naturally and generously, which actually earned her some goodwill from the Commissioner and his wife.
People with ulterior motives wouldn't eat so openly—that was Commissioner George's thought.
This girl looks like she hasn't eaten in a long time. How did she get so hungry? That was the Commissioner's wife's perspective.
Gwen, who had been maintaining her ladylike demeanor, was astonished by her. Did this person just escape from somewhere? She eats so much!
Daisy ate between one-third and almost half of the dishes on the table. She wiped her mouth, looking completely full.
Leaving a somewhat displeased little Gwen and her mother to clear the table, Daisy and the Black patrol officer entered the Commissioner's reception room.
"Miss Johnson, can you tell me how you discovered the target?" the Commissioner began.
Daisy wouldn't say she was targeted by a perverted old woman and then fought back. Now, she needed the police's help to solve her problem.
She fabricated a story about being entrusted to find a fellow countryman, then changed the subject: "Commissioner, I have reason to suspect that there are a large number of cruelly abused people in the opponent's underground facility."
"These are the pieces of evidence I've collected, though not direct evidence."
She took out a stack of documents from her backpack: utility consumption, food delivery records, and several missing person notices posted online. If possible, she really wanted to show the Commissioner a photo of old Madame Gao.
She desperately wished for a special arrest warrant, the kind that authorized shooting on sight, but unfortunately, the old woman was very cautious and had never been caught on camera.
Commissioner George repeatedly reviewed the documents. Anyone with a brain could analyze that this was a major case.
The other party perhaps believed they had protection from local precinct officers and were almost unrestrained; many pieces of evidence were obvious and could be found by any citizen.
Without knowing the full story, Commissioner George actually thought this young girl, Daisy, was good and had a strong sense of justice!
Commissioner George had seen many people, often women, who investigated criminals purely out of passion, and some were quite remarkable.