"Police station personnel?" the leader of the supervision team repeated Hughes's words, pausing subconsciously.
Police station—such a distant term for him now.
Previously, he was just a street thug, engaged daily in unsavory activities, and the police station was what he thought about most each day.
The police station was different from the patrol station he dealt with regularly; it only handled complicated cases. Being invited "for tea" at the police station was a mark of notorious repute on the streets, a badge of manhood.
But suddenly, he woke up to reality—it was the police station, after all. If they indeed found any criminal evidence, he wasn't sure about the company, but he would definitely be in trouble.
He absolutely couldn't let the president get implicated because of these police officers. If the president were to step down, his days would be even harder!
The leader of the supervision team immediately thought of this possibility, and his face contorted.