The guy leaning against the bar answered in a deep voice, "After the two bosses went down, everyone else started shooting."
"The lighting was bad in the bar at the time, but I remember a waitress trying to steal the lottery ticket from Maxim amid the chaos."
"Did she succeed?" Raul asked eagerly.
"I don't know," another guy shook his head, "Anyway, I shot at her twice. No one is going to take that money in front of me."
"I shot at her too, but I'm not sure if she got the ticket," the third person added, "It was too chaotic to see clearly."
"So you guys shot the waitress, what happened next?" Raul pressed on.
"Then it completely went to hell," the guy behind the sofa said with frustration, "Bullets were flying everywhere, and people were running in all directions.
The members of both gangs were either shooting at each other or hiding, seeking cover. No one cared about the lottery ticket."
"When the police arrived, it got even worse," the guy standing by the wall scratched his head in frustration, "We fired at the police, who quickly used their rifles to shoot back.
We were no match in firepower; the wounded could only throw down their guns, lie on the ground, and surrender. A few managed to escape through the back door."
"So the police took the lottery ticket?" Raul asked with reluctance.
No one could give a definite answer, but the police were likely to have taken the ticket after searching the scene and examining the bodies.
Both gangs paid a heavy price but got nothing, a result that none of those present could accept.
They looked at each other, eyes filled with unwillingness and anger. Did the lottery ticket worth more than 2.2 billion US Dollars just slip through their fingers like that?
Just then, the sound of police sirens blared outside the bar.
Apparently, the two idiots who fled from the clinic hadn't gone far, still wandering around until the police caught them using the electronic shackle's location.
"Damn, we have to go," Raul turned around and voluntarily fled towards the kitchen of the bar.
Thinking about the fierceness of the police, the seven or eight gang members immediately panicked and ran with Raul.
But waiting outside the kitchen were seven or eight rifles from the White Beach Town Police Station, alongside the flashing police lights.
Chief Constable Conges stood next to his police car, clutching the microphone of the car's PA system, angrily shouting:
"I'm in a very bad mood today. You bastards better get down on the ground, or I'll send you to hell right now."
The two who escaped from the clinic had already been caught. They clearly distrusted their companions, confessing immediately when captured that members of the two gangs were gathering in the tavern, planning another fight.
Seven or eight gang members obediently threw down their guns, raised their hands, walked out of the tavern, and lay down on the street, waiting for the police to bind them one by one.
When Raul was bound, he protested, "Officer, why are you arresting us? I haven't broken any laws."
Chief Constable Conges walked up, squatted down, and questioned, "What were you bastards doing in the tavern? Hiding gang smuggled goods or some other shady secret?"
Raul denied everything, "I don't know. I'm a high school teacher in town, not a gang member. I have no criminal record. My brother died here, and I'm here to mourn him."
The other bound gang members all lay on the ground, tilting their heads to look at Raul.
The nearest one cursed quietly, "Fuck you, Raul. You better know what you're saying!"
That was both a threat and a tacit agreement. It meant that the other gang members had pinned their hopes on Raul; everyone would either collectively keep quiet, or no one could get the lottery ticket.
Chief Constable Conges didn't care that much; he arrested everyone and brought them back to the station for questioning—only to have to release Raul an hour later.
Raul indeed had no criminal record and no illegal activities, and he had a solid reason to be in the tavern. As he walked out of the police station, turning his head to look back, Chief Constable Conges was staring at him.
Their eyes met, neither willing to back down.
Raul suddenly smiled, thinking to himself, "The White Beach Town Police Station only has a dozen officers. Conges and his partner were the first to arrive at the tavern last night.
Conges is the most likely to have taken the lottery ticket, but it was too chaotic for anyone to pay special attention to a small piece of paper at the time.
The person most likely to have taken the lottery ticket would be someone with a strong subjective desire.
The gang members were busy fighting the police at the time, and this window period may have lasted only a minute or maybe just thirty seconds.
But as long as the person was bold and the timing was right, that time would have been enough."
Raul took out his phone and browsed through his contact list, "Let me see, who was there at the time?
Excluding those who were killed last night, those who were hospitalized with various injuries, those who appeared in the tavern tonight, and those who are still in the police station, the only ones left are..."
Meanwhile, Chief Constable Conges returned to the police station and pulled up the surveillance footage brought back from the 'Scorpion' tavern.
Previously, he had treated the shootout as a gang fight, aiming to understand who killed whom to clarify the situation. But now, he was more interested in the moment the shootout started...
The tavern was dimly lit, and several lighting sources had been shot out during the gunfight, making the footage very blurry.
But there was one shadow that stood out. When everyone else ran out after hearing the gunfire, only he stayed on the ground, crawling toward Maxim's body.
This shadow was tall and fat.