hotmtlnovel Chapter 37 New York Continental Hotel
Chapter 37 New York Continental Hotel
Li En changed into casual clothes and went downstairs.
Dark gray hoodie, black cargo pants, and a pair of soft-soled sneakers.
He certainly knew the location of the Beaver Building.
The Financial District of Lower Manhattan, at the intersection of Wall Street, Pearl Street, and Beaver Street.
The entire Manhattan area is under their jurisdiction, so they should be patrolling there in principle.
However, after arriving here, he and Brock were in charge of the Midtown area, which is the Hell's Kitchen area.
One thing after another kept happening, and I never had the chance to go.
But the map was already etched in my mind.
The straight-line distance from Clinton Gardens to Beaver Tower is about seven kilometers, but walking along the streets would take nearly ten kilometers.
A yellow taxi drove past on the side of the road, the window rolled down halfway, and the driver was flicking cigarette ash out.
Li En glanced at the tire wear and dents on the rear bumper of the car and decided not to cause any more trouble for others.
With my current physical condition, I probably wouldn't die from being blown up inside a car.
But he doesn't want to test the difference between "probably" and "definitely" himself for the time being.
He started walking, getting into the rhythm of race walking.
The sneakers swayed on the sidewalk, each stride just over a meter long, with a steady frequency.
Forty minutes later, he stood at the crossroads in the financial district.
Behind me is Wall Street, to my left is Beaver Street, and to my right is Pearl Street.
Right in the center of the intersection stands a gray-brown building shaped like a small iron, its body narrowing into an acute angle along the street corner, its exterior walls an old-fashioned brick and stone structure from the early 20th century.
Compared to the surrounding steel-framed glass buildings, it looks rather small and out of place.
Above the main entrance hangs a bronze signboard with characters in an old-fashioned serif font deeply engraved in the copper plate.
Continental Hotel, New York.
Two greeters stood at the entrance, their posture ramrod straight. Their right hands hung down on their outer thighs, while their left hands were clasped behind their waists.
The eyes of the greeter at the entrance of a typical hotel were different from those of someone who was half-asleep.
The two men kept scanning their surroundings.
Each person is framed for half a second after entering their line of sight, and then released after the assessment is completed.
Li En reached out and slightly tugged at her collar, standing there for a few more seconds.
Both of them had their weight on the balls of their feet, with their knees slightly bent.
This standing posture is not tiring in a short time, but maintaining it for a long time requires not physical strength, but muscle memory.
Each of them had an unnatural bulge on their lower back, and no matter how well their clothes were tailored, they couldn't hide the outline of their holsters.
If two people decide to draw their guns, the distance from the left hand, which is clasped behind the waist, to the grip is only about ten centimeters.
These two men's combat abilities are at least on par with Bright's.
interesting.
Li En walked over.
The white greeter on the left took half a step forward, looking straight ahead without turning his shoulders.
Do you have an invitation letter?
This place also requires an invitation.
Li En didn't say anything, but with her right fingertips, she took out a gold coin from the inside pocket of her hoodie and held it up in front of the other person.
The gold coin reflected a small patch of dark gold light under the streetlights, and the patterns of the lion's mane emerged from the light patch.
The greeter's gaze lingered on the gold coin for a moment before stepping aside.
He and his companion on the right reached out at the same time, each pushing open a door.
"Welcome to the Continental Hotel, sir."
Li En stepped into the hall.
The moment the soles of my shoes touched the red carpet, a subtle pressure descended from all directions.
This feeling made him somewhat uncomfortable.
From directly ahead, you can see a corner of the hall, with a crystal chandelier, a dark brown leather sofa, and a faded oil painting hanging above the fireplace.
However, the entrance to the hall is blocked by a removable copper railing, preventing direct access from this side.
To the left is a corridor about twenty meters long, covered with the same dark red carpet as the entrance.
Sofas and round tables are placed against the walls on both sides, spaced three to five meters apart.
A woman was sitting on the sofa in the nearest row.
She wore a black evening gown and her hair was styled in an updo, revealing her entire neck.
From the moment Lee Eun stepped into the corridor, her eyes were glued to her.
When their eyes met, she stuck out her tongue and licked her lips.
The lipstick is deep red, and after licking it, the surface of the lips has an extra layer of moist shine.
Li En glanced at her.
The evening gown was very form-fitting, with a slit that reached mid-thigh, but her sitting posture shifted her weight to her left side.
Her right hand was always resting near her right waist, with her fingertips only a few centimeters away from the folds of her skirt.
Her nails had been done; the deep red nail polish reflected the light under the chandelier, refracting a cold, metallic sheen.
Something was embedded under the nail sticker.
A man was sitting at the round table in the middle of the corridor.
He wore a sharp, dark gray suit, his hair was styled into a neat slicked-back look with hair gel, and gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
He folded the newspaper in his hand in half and placed it on his lap. As Li En walked into the corridor, he looked up and glanced in his direction through his glasses.
Socialites and Wall Street elites.
When anyone sees these two people, these two words will come to mind.
But Li En noticed something else:
The man's hand, which was turning the pages of the newspaper, had rough skin on the back of his hand, and several faded old abrasion scars on his knuckles.
These aren't the hands of someone who sits in an office.
A set of cutlery was placed on the round table, neatly arranged side by side with precise spacing that was almost symmetrical.
But the napkins weren't unfolded, and the water glasses were empty; these people weren't there to eat.
There was also a hardcover Bible on the table, the gold-embossed cross on the cover had faded a bit.
Lee Eun made a quick assessment.
If they were to clash head-on, both of them would probably have to put in some effort.
The metal disc embedded in the woman's fingernail is likely for cutting or piercing, with an attack range within arm span and a very fast striking speed.
The scars and rough knuckles on the back of the man's hands indicate that he has practiced hand-to-hand combat and is an experienced fighter.
Of course, if you use the Glock with unlimited ammo from the warehouse, you can take it down in two shots by surprise.
He walked through the corridor.
He didn't slow down when passing the wealthy woman and the Wall Street elite, and their eyes followed him the whole way.
In addition, there are hidden sights.
A receptionist stood behind the front desk at the end of the corridor.
Bald, Black, wearing round glasses.
His hands were placed flat on the table, his fingers spread open, revealing the light-colored skin on his palms.
When Li En stopped in front of him, he smiled slightly, revealing his neat white teeth.
"Sir, how can I help you?"
The sound was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for Li En to hear clearly, and not enough for the people at the other end of the corridor to hear it.
Li En didn't immediately take out the gold coins, but instead asked:
"Someone told me that I could get what I wanted here."
The receptionist's expression remained unchanged as she immediately responded:
"Sir, the mainland hotel will do its best to meet the guest's requirements."
Li En stated his purpose directly:
I want news about someone.
At first, he thought the place Mrs. Hudson introduced him to was just an underground arms dealer.
But once you step through that door, the two people sitting on the sofa in the hallway alone are enough to overturn that judgment.
These two people are definitely not protecting an underground gun shop.
They, like the two greeters outside the door, were quite powerful.
This also indirectly proves that the hidden organization here is very powerful.
Obtaining information about the hunter directly is more important than buying a gun.
Guns can only solve how to kill, intelligence solves who to kill and where to kill.
"Sir, I am Charon, a receptionist at the Continental Hotel."
Charon's tone had a slightly more formal feel to it.
He realized that the person in front of him was not a tourist who had wandered in by mistake, but someone who had introduced him to the place.
But hotels in mainland China have their own rules.
He readjusted his smile and asked:
"How can I help you?"
Li En took the gold coins out of his inner pocket and placed them on the table.
Charon lowered his eyes, picked up the gold coin with two fingers, rubbed it in his palm for a moment, and then opened the drawer and put it inside.
He picked up the receiver of the old-fashioned telephone on the front desk and dialed an internal number.
"Manager, a customer wants to be served."
"Yes, payment has been made. Okay."
He put the receiver back on the stand, walked around from behind the front desk, and stood at the edge of the corridor.
"Sir, please follow me."
Li En followed Charon into the hall.
The hall has a ceiling that is at least two stories high, with a crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the dome. The candle-shaped bulbs on the chandelier arms are all lit, and the light casts warm yellow hues on the dark red wallpaper.
Behind the bartender was a bartender wiping glasses, and in front of him sat several people who didn't seem to be drinking.
His clothes were typical of street thugs, but his posture was completely different; his spine was straight.
One of them was holding a whiskey glass in one hand, his wrist resting on the bar counter, and his other hand hanging down beside the bar stool, his fingers less than a hand's width away from his waist.
Li En glanced at everyone sitting in the hall.
The combined combat capabilities of the personnel in this lobby alone exceed those of all the officers in the Manhattan precinct.
This is not to underestimate the branch office.
Bright is 25 years old and in his prime, with combat skills that surpass many of the veteran officers in the department.
But Bright's score was dragged down by his liberal arts scores, not his combat and shooting scores.
Everyone in this hall is at least at Bright's level, or even higher.
Charon stopped in front of a wooden door at the end of the first-floor corridor, with the words "Manager's Office" written on it.
He turned to the side and turned the doorknob.
"Please come in, sir."
Li En walked in, and the sound of the door closing came from behind her.
The office is a little over 100 square meters.
The left wall is lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, filled with books.
Several oil paintings hang on the right side, and a few props are displayed on the low cabinet.
At the far end of the office was a large window, with the curtains only half drawn.
A dark solid wood desk sits in front of the window, with a green-shaded desk lamp and a milky-white landline phone on it.
A man was standing behind the desk, listening to a phone call.
He had curly hair, but it was neatly combed. He wore a dark gray suit, his tie knot was pushed all the way up, and the buttons on his shirt collar were fastened properly.
He saw Li En walk in, say a few words into the microphone, and then put the receiver back on the stand.
He stood up, walked to the wine cabinet next to him, and took out a crystal glass bottle from the cabinet.
The moment the cork was pulled off, a fruity aroma mixed with the rich scent of spirits filled the office.
He then took out two short-stemmed glasses and placed them on the table, pouring half a finger's width of amber liquid into the bottom of each glass.
"Mr. Li En, would you like a drink?"
Li En stood still.
He hasn't given his name since entering the hotel.
Charon didn't ask, and neither did the two greeters.
No one has ever received the name Li En.
"Oh, right." The manager put down the wine bottle in his hand somewhat apologetically.
"I am Winston, the manager of the Continental Hotel."
"You're Lee En from the Manhattan Police Precinct, right?"
"That's right." Li En stepped forward.
The fact that the other party was able to find his name and police station affiliation within minutes demonstrates their strong intelligence capabilities.
Conversely, it also makes it more likely that information about the hunters can be obtained.
He walked to the desk, reached for the stemmed glass, and gestured to Winston.
"Sorry, I don't drink alcohol."
After saying that, he gently touched Winston's glass with the rim of his own.
Ding, then put the cup back on the table.
Winston smiled.
"It's rare to see a young person who doesn't drink alcohol."
He picked up the two cups and drank from them one after the other.
Drink Li En's cup first, then drink your own.
He showed the bottom of both glasses to Li En, then put them back on the wine cabinet.
This is to show that there is nothing wrong with the wine, and every glass is drinkable.
Li En wasn't particularly interested in what kind of organization the Mainland Hotel was.
He spoke directly.
"I want to find out about someone who specifically targets families, especially those with young girls."
"He killed two robbers on West Street a few days ago, and he seems to have special abilities."
Winston didn't go back behind his desk; instead, he leaned against the liquor cabinet with his right leg slightly bent and crossed in front of his left, a posture that didn't resemble a hotel manager discussing business.
It felt more like bumping into an acquaintance in a bar and casually chatting about the latest news.
"We can indeed provide information about this person."
"But... let's talk about something else for now, Officer Lee."
He paused briefly.
"I won't ask who gave you the gold coins, but there are rules in mainland hotels."
"You are an outsider now, and you will need to pay two gold coins to inquire about information."
Li En took out a second gold coin from his inside pocket and twirled it in his hand.
As the gold coin flips between your fingers, the relief of the woman's profile flickers under the light.
Winston's gaze followed the gold coin twice, surprised that Li En actually had a second one.
After confirming that it was genuine, he spoke again.
"But if you become a member of a mainland hotel, you won't have to pay the two gold coins."
"Really? What's the price to pay to become a hotel member?"
Even just melting down a single gold coin and selling it at the gold price would yield a considerable sum.
Mrs. Hudson said the two gold coins were worth more than a million.
It's not that the gold coins themselves are worth that much, but that the doors they can open are worth that much.
The Mainland Hotel line is one such door.
The price to pay after joining is not just filling out a form.
Winston clapped his hands lightly.
"What amazing young people! The future definitely belongs to you."
He turned around, leaned against the edge of the desk, and faced Li En.
From this angle, the two people's lines of sight are at the same height.
"After becoming a member of a mainland hotel, you can enjoy all the services offered by the hotel."
"Of course, these services all require payment in gold coins."
He stretched out his hand, making a coin-sized gap between his index finger and thumb.
"As for the gold coins, you'll get them by helping the hotel solve some minor problems."
"small?"
The troubles the hotel is supposed to cause are by no means minor.
Those people in the lobby, those two in the corridor, and those two greeters at the door.
The combined fighting power of these people could take down the entire Manhattan Police Department.
The only connection between the trouble that requires people of this caliber to handle and the word "tiny" is that they are both two syllables.
"Of course, in every respect, members have absolute freedom."
"There's only one rule: no causing trouble in hotels in mainland China, that's all."
"It sounds a bit like an adventurer's guild in a game."
Li En responded casually, his mind racing with pros and cons.
Winston does indeed have intelligence on the hunters, information that the police system cannot access.
This resource is extremely important.
"Haha, you're just young people. We're not much different from the Adventurers' Guild."
Winston smiled and then fell silent to wait.
"You're going to get into some bad trouble, aren't you? I'm a police officer."
"It's precisely because you're a police officer that I wanted to invite you."
"If they are just low-level police officers, it doesn't really mean much to us."
Winston's tone remained unchanged.
"But personally, I think Officer Lee is very special."
"Besides, even though this is the Lower City, it's not much better than Hell's Kitchen."
silence.
"Can."
Lee Eun responded.
……