hotmtlnovel Chapter 38 The Purple Man Came to the Police Station
Chapter 38 The Purple Man Came to the Police Station
Li En walked out of the Mainland Hotel with a brown paper folder in his hand.
There were no markings on the cover, except for a raised sealing wax stamp in the lower right corner.
That's the emblem of the Continental Hotel, an eagle with outstretched wings resting on crossed keys.
He didn't rush to open it; instead, he stood on the steps by the door and glanced at the street.
The flow of people in the financial district had already decreased by evening, and the Wall Street traders in suits had long since disappeared into the subway.
Only a few tourists remained on the sidewalk taking photos, their flashes going on and off under the streetlights.
He tucked the folder under his arm and walked toward the police station.
He walked slowly, his mind replaying what Winston had just said.
The hotels on the mainland are different from the adventurers' guild.
The missions of the Mainland Hotel include finding people, assassination, kidnapping, intelligence trading, and asset transfer.
The black cell phone in his pocket was the terminal for receiving mission information.
The casing has no brand logo, only an eagle and key emblem laser-engraved on the back.
When Winston pushed the phone towards him, he said:
"It won't make a sound or vibrate. The screen will light up when there's a task; whether you accept it or not is up to you."
The best thing about this organization is that it doesn't force people.
But Lee En was well aware of the essence of this model.
It's not mandatory because there's no need to force it.
Gold coins are the only hard currency in this closed ecosystem.
All mainland China hotel branches worldwide are the same.
New York, London, Rome, Tokyo, Budapest—they only recognize these special hand-struck gold coins.
You must use gold coins to access the hotel's intelligence network, armory, shelter, and medical resources.
To earn gold coins, you must accept quests.
This is a closed loop that doesn't require anyone to force you to.
You walked in, saw the depth of the intelligence, saw the quality of the equipment; sooner or later, you'll take over.
He switched the folder to his other hand.
I just glanced at the mission list in the hotel, and even the lowest-tier bounty is two hundred thousand US dollars, plus an extra gold coin reward.
The value of a single mission is close to one million.
This price is enough to make many people willingly write their names into that membership list that will never be made public.
As for the hunter's information...
He opened the folder and looked through it as he walked.
In the underworld, he's called the Purple Man.
Several years ago, after disappearing from the surveillance list of an Eastern European intelligence agency, he had been operating in New York, occasionally taking on assignments from mainland hotels.
When Winston said these things while drinking in his office, the relaxed business smile on his face was completely gone.
"You can tell we're both gentlemen."
"Although there are a few members who use less-than-clever methods, they are still far inferior to Zi Ren."
He placed the glass on the table and circled his finger along the rim.
"That guy is disgusting."
"And," Winston raised his eyes and met Li En's gaze.
"The Purple Man never lays a hand on people with power or influence, so there is no bounty on his head."
"Nobody's willing to pay for his head, nobody's willing to pay for it."
Judging from the other person's expression, they had been disgusted by this guy for a long time.
Li En closed the folder.
Just now in the office, he asked Winston what his ability was, and Winston shook his head.
"No one has ever lived to see him use his abilities."
"To be precise, everyone who has seen him use his abilities either died or became his possessions."
"After reading through the action records in the documents, you'll understand that his abilities must have been greatly limited."
Based on the information Li En gathered, he concluded that Purple Man was not on the same level as Captain America or Spider-Man.
Moreover, he would likely be easily killed by bullets; otherwise, he wouldn't have needed to accept the mission from the Mainland Hotel.
After becoming a member, one gold coin was used to obtain information about the Purple Man, and the other was used to purchase equipment.
It is equipped with a Keltec KSG shotgun, 12-gauge, with a double magazine capacity of 7 rounds each and 1 round in the chamber, using 70mm shotgun shells, and can also use 76mm Magnum shells.
The Heckler & Koch MP5K submachine gun is a 9x19mm caliber weapon with a rate of fire of approximately 800 rounds per minute, a muzzle velocity of 400 m/s, a magazine capacity of 30 rounds, and an effective range of 200 meters.
The Savage 110BA is a bolt-action sniper rifle, chambered in 8.6×70mm caliber, with an effective range of approximately 1500 meters and a 5-round magazine.
Of course, all accessories are included.
I didn't take the tactical knife that was offered as a gift.
The mainland hotel can also provide more powerful weapons, including but not limited to single-person shoulder-fired rocket launchers (RPGs), Gatling guns, and grenade launchers.
However, these require a lot of gold coins, which I can't afford.
Now with this equipment, we can attack at close, medium, and long range.
Especially now that we know what the purple man looks like, we can just find him and snipe him from a distance.
It was completely dark when Li En walked into the police station.
Only half of the lights in the hall were on.
Bright stood behind the dispatch desk, head down, hands resting on the counter, a form spread out in front of him, but the form was upside down.
Brock sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, his chin drooping over his chest, his hat brim obscuring his face.
Cherry sat in front of the computer, the screen light shining on her face, her expression blank, one hand resting on the keyboard, her fingers not moving.
There was a sweet, cloying smell in the air.
I'm used to the smell of smoke and sweat in the police station, but this sweet smell is different.
It sits atop those old smells.
Li En rubbed his nose and greeted the front desk as he passed by.
"Bright, you're still very busy today."
"Uh-huh."
Bright stood at the front of the table with his head down, staring at the documents on the table.
"Brock?"
He walked over to Brock and patted him on the shoulder.
Brock's shoulders sank down, following his palms, without lifting his head, his breathing even and slow.
The brim of the hat rose and fell slightly with each exhale, and the body did not react to external sounds.
Li En's back muscles tightened instantly, and his right hand reached for the gun handle at his waist.
He turned around and scanned the entire police station.
The dozen or so people imprisoned behind the iron bars.
The prisoners who usually curse and bang on the bars, and who press their faces against the iron gate and spit into the hall.
They were all sitting there, heads down, hands on their knees.
His chest rises and falls, his breathing is normal, but he is sitting still.
It was quiet, so quiet.
When has the police station ever been this quiet?
Even at 3 a.m., people in the detention cells will snore, cough, and talk in their sleep.
Now, these dozen or so people are sitting together with their heads down, their postures almost identical.
Li En walked to the iron railing, squatted down, and looked through the gaps in the railing.
The person closest to me had a trickle of drool hanging from the corner of their mouth, which had already dripped down to the tip of their chin, but they didn't wipe it away.
Saliva dripped onto the prison uniform, leaving a small, dark, damp stain.
Breathing and pulse are present, but all voluntary actions have ceased.
He stood up, walked to Cherry's workstation, and tilted his head to look at the computer screen.
The screen displays a personal profile, including a photo, name, age, and address.
The photo shows a black-haired girl with a small face, a pointed chin, and bright eyes.
Jessica Jones, a sophomore at Forest Hills High School.
Li En stretched out his palm and waved it horizontally in front of Cherry's eyes twice.
Cherry's eyes didn't follow his hand; her pupils dilated slightly, and the blood vessels in the whites of her eyes were very faint.
Li En stood still, slowed her breathing, and focused on listening.
There were only the slow breathing of three colleagues and a dozen or so prisoners around.
He walked to the wall and pushed open all the windows one by one, then walked to the front door and opened it.
A gust of cold wind blew in from the street, and the convection blew the sweet smell out from the back door.
After about ten seconds, Bright raised his head.
He saw Li En standing at the door, blinked, and put on his usual slightly tired smile.
"Don't even think about taking a break today. Everyone has to work overtime as we wrap up the port case."
Li En walked up to him and scanned back and forth between his pupils and the whites of his eyes.
Pupil contraction is normal, sclera is clean, and blinking frequency is normal.
"Bright, are you feeling unwell?"
"No," Bright said, his voice tinged with confusion.
"Then tell me, what time is it now?"
"What are you talking about? Of course it's 7:30."
As he spoke, Bright raised his right hand and glanced at his watch.
Then his pupils contracted sharply, and the hour hand on the watch face pointed to nine, while the minute hand pointed to six.
He stared at his watch for several seconds, and when he looked away, the expression on his face changed from confusion to unease.
"Oh, did I just fall asleep?"
"Li En, I'm sorry I've been working too much overtime lately."
Bright assumed he had been caught sleeping there and quickly offered a brief explanation.
"You've worked hard." Li En reached out and gently patted his shoulder.
"Lee En, you're finally back." Brock's voice came from inside the hall.
He stood up, supporting himself on the armrest of the chair. His shoulders swayed slightly as he stood up before he regained his balance. He waved to Li En.
Li En walked over.
"What's wrong?"
"Actually, some news has been quite strange these past few days." Brock leaned forward and lowered his voice.
He glanced at the counter out of the corner of his eye and saw Bright organizing forms and Cherry across from him.
"Because of the port and the Razor Gang incident, all gangs have been keeping a very low profile lately."
"But yesterday and today, several informants sent back a message saying that they were plotting something."
"Planning to seize territory?" The profits from a port are substantial.
The Razor Gang's berths, smuggling routes, and drug distribution networks are still empty.
Whoever swallows it first will become the master of the next dock.
"No, the Russian gang, the Irish gang, the Mexican gang, and the Amick Group have all made moves, but it has nothing to do with the port."
Brock reached up and rubbed his temples, increasing the pressure with his fingers.
"They seem to be very interested in something."
"The informant couldn't find out the specifics, but he heard that several gangs were planning to hold a meeting."
He lowered his hand and looked at Li En.
"Can you believe it? These gangs are all sworn enemies."
"The Russian gang's second-in-command last year was beaten to death with a baseball bat by the Irish gang in an alley on Ninth Avenue."
"The Mexican gang and the Amick Group fired at each other for half a night in the port last year over a shipment of goods from Colombia."
"Now they need to sit down and talk."
Lee En casually replied that he was not interested in the gang's actions at the moment.
"It's not just money that can bring these people together, even if they put aside their blood feuds."
"That must involve considerable benefits."
"By the way, has anyone from the police station been here?"
"No." Brock leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyelids puffy.
"Then you should rest first."
Li En walked over to Cherry.
Cherry was staring at the computer screen, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips moving silently.
The file on the screen is still open.
"What's wrong with this girl?"
"I don't know, and I don't understand why they needed to retrieve her file."
Cherry's voice carried a sense of frustration that she herself couldn't quite explain.
I have absolutely no recollection of why I clicked on this file.
Li En turned around, walked to the monitoring room, and pushed open the door.
The monitoring host hummed, and several rows of screens displayed real-time footage from different locations within the police station.
He reached out and tapped the playback record, dragging the timeline back.
The surveillance footage in the lobby was frozen in the evening of that day.
The sunlight outside the window changed from orange to gray and then to black, but everything was normal inside the police station.
Bright was on the phone, Block was flipping through documents, and Cherry was typing.
Then, at a certain point in time, the screen suddenly switched to the next record.
The timestamp jumps directly from one point to a later point.
Those tens of minutes in the middle were manually cut out, without even a backup.
A colleague who has lost his memory, an unusually quiet prisoner, a girl's file that has been pulled out, and a time period of the surveillance video that has been cut out.
Li En put his right hand into his pocket and rubbed his thumb back and forth on the inside of the pocket lining a couple of times.
The purple-haired person has been here!
He came to the police station to get information about Jessica Jones.
That girl is the prey!
Li En stared at the black screen for a moment, then turned and walked out of the monitoring room.
Approaching Cherry, and seeing her still staring blankly at the screen, he said:
"Perhaps we should consider whether this child has been involved in any activities."
"What did you participate in...?"
Cherry tapped a few times on the keyboard, and the page jumped to the event registration page.
"Forest Hills High School is having a protest in Central Park tomorrow, and she seems to have registered to attend."
"Protest what?" Li En already had the answer in his mind, but still asked the question.
"The human trafficking case at the port." Cherry rubbed her eyes.
"It was probably arranged by the mayoral candidates. Although the mayor handled the port incident quickly, its impact has been gradually suppressed."
"But his opponents won't let him get away so easily. They'll find a teacher to lead a high school protest, contact a few reporters to cover it, and the buzz will stay on social media for a few more days."
Li En's gaze swept across the home address bar on the screen; it was empty.
Jessica Jones, home address not registered.
"This address?"
"They just moved here not long ago, so the system updates are slow."
Cherry pointed to a line of small print in the corner of the screen.
"We're currently working on electronic data entry, and many things are slow."
Li En turned his gaze away from the address bar.
When Zi Ren received the file, he also saw the same blank space, with no registered home address.
School has long since let out, so there's no way he could go to Forest Hills High School to try his luck and ask around.
The purple-haired man has only one option: go to Central Park tomorrow.
That protest was the location Jessica Jones had chosen to attend.
The purple-haired man will most likely choose to stake out Central Park tomorrow.
This is an opportunity to eliminate the Purple Man.
Central Park!
"Yes, Central Park!"
A shout exploded from behind.
Brock stood up from his chair, holding his phone in his hand. The screen was still lit up, showing a call log that had just ended.
"The informant just reported back that the meeting place for those gangs has been decided: Central Park, a place that gets crowded on weekends."
"Then I'll go to Central Park tomorrow, just in case those gangsters cause trouble."
Li En's voice was steady as she naturally took over the conversation.
Brock glanced at him, nodded, and didn't ask any further questions.
……