Landlord in the Arctic-Chapter 36: Extortion

The bizarre conversation came to an end.

The young Indian officer frowned and thought for a moment. "Chief, it sounds like he’s speaking Creek, but I was using Navajo. Creek is rarely spoken these days, so there are a lot of pronunciations I don’t understand."

"But the gist of it is that the injured party was in front of the Iron Brown Bear’s door doing something to desecrate an Elf, so he was punished with a bow and arrow."

"Iron Brown Bear, desecration, Elf?" The older officer furrowed his brow.

The young Indian officer continued, "Yes. He said he’s from the Yosemite Tribe in the south and is looking for the Tribal Elf, Khilla. In his Indian language, ’elf’ means god or spirit."

"Khilla represents the Iron Brown Bear, the Tribal Elf."

This jumbled mess was giving the older officer a headache. He waved his hand dismissively.

"I don’t care about any Iron Brown Bear or Tribal Elf. Take him back to the station and get his statement first."

"Me too?" Feng Shan asked, looking astonished.

’He shot someone with a bow and arrow. What does that have to do with me?’

The older officer knew Feng Shan was on good terms with Frank the Wolverine of Fairbanks, so his tone wasn’t as harsh.

"Sorry, but according to the suspect’s statement, the victim was shot because he was at your door. Also, based on witness accounts, the suspect only seems to listen to you. We’re hoping you’ll cooperate with our investigation."

With a request to "cooperate," what else could Feng Shan say?

"Alright. Can I bring the cat and dog from my room? They’ll run off if I’m not around."

"Of course. And while you’re at it, please get him into the car. He only seems to listen to you," the older officer said, pointing at the wary Indian in the bearskin.

...

「The next morning.」

At the Fairbanks Police Department, the office was bustling with activity. Every so often, a call would come in, and officers would grab their gear and rush out.

Just then, Frank stormed into the station lobby, roaring at the front desk officer.

"Where’s Feng? Fuck! What right do you have to drag him to the police station?"

"As God is my witness, at the end of this year, I’m going to propose a reduction in the police department’s budget to the city council for next year! Is this what citizens pay taxes for, so you can just arrest people whenever you feel like it?"

"I demand an investigation into the department’s actions! I deeply question your transparency and accountability!"

"Show me Feng’s arrest warrant! If you don’t have one, I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got!"

The department seemed accustomed to this kind of scene. None of the officers paid him any mind. Those who were working kept working, those drinking coffee kept drinking, and those on the phone just covered one ear and continued their calls.

HUFF... HUFF... HUFF!

Frank had shouted himself hoarse. He leaned over the counter, gasping for breath.

A cup of coffee was offered to him. Frank looked up.

A grinning officer said, "Chief Bird gave orders. If Mr. Frank comes to the station, we should let him finish yelling before sending him to the chief’s office. He said the station has been too dull lately and could use some entertainment." 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"FUCK!" Frank cursed hoarsely. He raised both hands and gave the entire lobby the double bird, then grabbed the coffee and stalked toward the chief’s office.

A wave of cheerful laughter filled the station lobby in his wake.

SLAM!

He violently shoved open the door to the chief’s office.

Frank, who had been ready to unleash a torrent of insults, stopped short when he saw Feng Shan and Chief Bird sitting across a desk from each other. In front of Feng Shan was a plate of meat stew and corned beef hash, plus a few slices of toast.

’Yep, that’s toast with maple syrup.’

’Judging by the smell, it must be breakfast from the Cookie Jar Restaurant.’

"Frank, you’re looking good today," Chief Bird said, cutting Frank off before he could speak. "Thanks to Mr. Feng’s help, we caught a perverted creep. In my opinion, Mr. Feng is a shoo-in for this year’s Outstanding Citizen award."

Uh!

’This isn’t right!’

’Usually, he looks like he wants to pull a gun on me the second we meet. Why the change of heart today?’

Frank eyed Bird suspiciously for a few moments, then immediately realized this was the chief’s roundabout way of surrendering—shutting him up before he could even start. A cold smirk appeared on his lips.

"So it was all a misunderstanding. That makes things simple. Mr. Feng, as the de facto owner of the Crown Territory, plans to turn it into a self-governing territory and become its first Sheriff. Chief Bird, why don’t you handle the relevant paperwork!"

What!

’A self-governing town? A Sheriff?’

Feng Shan, who had been in the middle of breakfast, snapped his head up to look at Frank. A piece of soft, slightly chewy toast got stuck in his throat, and he had to quickly gulp down some stew to wash it down.

Frank shot Feng Shan a look that said, ’Don’t say a word,’ and then turned a meaningful gaze on Chief Bird.

"So, what do you say?"

"The Crown Territory isn’t under Fairbanks’s jurisdiction, and a Sheriff doesn’t fall under the police department. You don’t even know that?" Bird asked, his brow furrowed with suspicion.

Frank immediately feigned a headache.

"Fuck, I drank too much milk with a pretty lady last night. Not a Sheriff. Feng wants to open a gun store and shooting range in the Crown Territory. He needs an FFL."

’Damn it!!’

’I knew it. Sharp-tongued Frank would never be this nice for no reason.’

’The Crown Territory doesn’t even have any people. What’s the point of an FFL? Is he going to sell guns to brown bears or reindeer?’

"Sorry, I can’t help you with that!" Chief Bird said, his face stiff.

Frank immediately put on an angry expression. "Buddy, I know that last year the ATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives) delegated the issuance of Federal Firearms Licenses to the Fairbanks Police Department. How many have you guys issued in the last two years? A handful?"

"God, your incompetence is so bad the ATF agents can’t even get paid. You’re turning them into street beggars."

At the mention of this, Chief Bird seemed even more agitated than Frank.

"Bullshit! You think I want it this way? An FFL costs thousands, even tens of thousands of US Dollars, plus a management fee every three years. You don’t even need a license to own a gun in Alaska! The outer seas are crawling with Russian crabbing boats selling military-grade weapons. It’s cheaper to buy an AK on the black market than in a gun store, and they even offer a free trade-in service!"

"Exactly!" Frank clapped his hands lightly and pointed at the bewildered Feng Shan. "Mr. Feng just got a 20 million US Dollar loan from Wells Fargo Bank. His personal safety needs to be guaranteed."

"Furthermore, Mr. Feng plans to build a shooting range in the Crown Territory to entertain his friends and, incidentally, generate some tax revenue for Alaska."

"Can you believe it? In that distant, great nation in the East, many people live their entire lives without ever touching a gun. What a terrifying thought."

"Truly terrifying!" Chief Bird, a member of the National Rifle Association, nodded in deep sympathy.

"So, Mr. Feng has decided to build a shooting range and a gun store to let more people experience the charm of firearms. Don’t you think that’s something we should support?" Frank pressed on.

Chief Bird, seemingly brainwashed, looked at Feng Shan. "I support your idea. That’s an excellent plan."

With that, he picked up his desk phone.

Soon, a young officer walked in. "Chief!"

Chief Bird waved his hand. "Go get the FFL application forms!"

"What do you want that junk for? I think it’s stuffed in some corner of the records room," the young officer said, confused.

"Just go get it!" Bird glared, full of authority.

A short while later, the application forms were brought in.

The two old-timers hunched over the desk, scribbling and making notes, while the protagonist, Feng Shan, was completely ignored.

...