Chapter 839
Heading to Brooklyn
Chapter 839 Heading to Brooklyn
As night deepened, the hustle and bustle of the streets gradually subsided, leaving only the occasional passing vehicle and the faint sound of police sirens in the distance.
Vader remained seated on the bench, the sounds still coming from all around him, but with little of any valuable information.
"Crack-crack-"
The sound of a metal can hitting the ground grew louder as the homeless man, carrying all his belongings, searched for a place to sleep for the night.
He spotted the bench and the seemingly not-so-strong young man sitting on it. His eyes lit up, and he licked his lips, his expression showing a hint of ferocity and determination as he walked straight over.
However, the closer he got, the more confused the homeless man looked. When he reached the bench, he hesitated and stopped.
The man looked bewildered, his eyes not on the young man. As if he had forgotten why he had come, he scratched his greasy long hair, dragged his clattering cart in another direction, and quickly drove away.
Thugs who stay out all night, prostitutes, idle young Black men... For various reasons, some people on the street will always set their sights on the young man who seems to have a good temper.
However, without exception, they all repeated the homeless man's experience—approaching, then unknowingly moving away, until finally, the small park became a silent place where no one approached.
Wade picked the communication pea.
Everyone in the hotel was asleep, and even the main door had been locked by the hotel owner. Only the creaking of the rocking chair could be faintly heard.
Wade rested his arm on the back of the bench, not leaving, still waiting quietly, the streetlights casting a dim and lonely halo on him.
At that moment, a series of slightly dragging footsteps approached from afar and finally stopped in front of Wade.
He raised his eyes.
Standing before me was a woman around fifty years old, overweight, wearing bulky gray overalls and a dark yellow long-sleeved T-shirt with a worn collar.
The woman looked like any ordinary cleaner; her nose was red from the night wind, and the corners of her eyes bore the fine lines of a life etched on her.
She looked at Wade and said in a hoarse voice:
"Good evening, sir. I've noticed you've been sitting here for quite a while. Are you waiting for someone?"
A smile flickered in Wade's eyes, and a very faint curve appeared at the corner of his mouth as he said:
"Hmm, I'm waiting for a friend who might be lost?"
Upon hearing this, the ordinary weariness on the cleaning lady's face vanished instantly, and her amber eyes curved into a bright, lively smile.
“Master,” she said, “we’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
"What are the results of the recent investigation?" Wade asked.
"Have."
The cleaning lady took a badge out of her pocket and placed it in front of Wade.
The badge was only the size of a one-dollar coin. Instead of a portrait, the front of the badge depicted a pair of hands breaking a wand; the back of the badge featured an embossed "NSPS".
"The second Salem?"
Wade recognized the meaning of the abbreviation and was not surprised.
"Yes."
The cleaner whispered:
“We tracked it down to an abandoned textile factory in Brooklyn and found a deserted hideout. It was empty; books, documents, computers, and other items had all been moved away, but many personal belongings were left behind.”
She pointed to the badge in Wade's hand and said:
“For example, flags, slogans, even coffee mugs and shirts with this pattern printed on them. Also, the base was moved in a hurry; it looks like a battle has taken place.” Vader stood up decisively and said, “Take me to see it.”
He walked to the side of the street, and a black sedan sped out from the dark alley and quietly glided to a stop in front of Wade.
The car window rolled down, revealing Victor's rugged face. He looked at Wade, not speaking as eloquently as he had on the plane, but simply nodding slightly.
Vidra opened the car door, got in smoothly, and the car immediately started, accelerating smoothly until it left only a trail of exhaust fumes.
The sanitation worker stayed on the side of the street, watching the car drive away. Then, she pulled out a broom from somewhere and bent down to sweep the street.
"rustle--"
……
Wade leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the dazzling night view outside the window. The darkness concealed most of the sin and filth, and from this angle, the city did indeed appear extremely radiant and enchanting.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, Wade casually asked:
"Do you have a driver's license, Victor?"
Victor placed his hands firmly on the steering wheel, and upon hearing this, a faint smile appeared on his otherwise expressionless face:
"In this country, you can buy almost any piece of paper as long as you have enough money. In that respect, it is indeed much freer than Britain."
"Do you like it?" Wade's gaze remained fixed on the flickering lights outside the window, his voice soft: "This place?"
Victor drove past a slow-moving truck, paused for a moment, and then said:
"Its chaotic order provided us with ample cover and resources. But as for 'liking' it... it's too noisy."
During their time in the United States, they mostly came into contact with people from the lower classes. The pervasive arrogance and discrimination, the shallow culture and naked desires were unbearable even for a puppet.
They were all given ideas by Wade himself, and even though their personalities differed greatly, there were some things that were always the same in their bones.
……
Street signs in Brooklyn flash by on the side of the street.
The car stopped silently in front of a dilapidated "riverside textile factory." The rusty gate was locked with several finger-thick iron chains, but the locks had been broken open by someone.
Victor led Wade through the ruins of the factory to a hidden entrance leading underground.
The underground space was damp and cold, filled with the smell of dust and mold, and two figures were busy at work.
One of them was a redneck driver wearing a baseball cap, with black kerosene stains on his pants;
The other was a young man wearing a hoodie who looked like he was ready to go to a basketball game at any time.
At this moment, the two were doing work that was completely out of character for their appearance—holding tools such as cameras, rulers, fingerprint scanners, transparent tape, transparent glass bottles for collecting samples, and plastic bags, they were carefully collecting various minute traces from the cracks in the floor tiles, the legs of the tables, and under the eaves.
Upon seeing Wade, the two stood up simultaneously, bowed slightly, their movements perfectly synchronized as if they had rehearsed countless times.
Wade waved his hand and said, "I just came to take a look. You guys continue."
"Yes," the two said in unison.
Victor pointed to the wall and whispered to Wade, "Master, look!"
On the light gray cement wall, there were several thin, deep scratches!
(End of this chapter)