He cleaned up the traces Mas had left behind.
Dean bade farewell to Niel, reminding her to be careful in the coming days and to call him if she needed anything, then left alone.
「...」
Santoni Gahr's residence was located in a run-down alley. The place was a bit shabby. Its only advantage was the large plot of land. The alley was actually formed by the courtyard walls of the surrounding houses. It was crisscrossed with passages, and the nearby buildings were so similar that strangers could easily get lost within it.
Santoni Gahr's residence was at the end of one of these alleys, with another road on the other side.
At that moment, Dean stood on the far side of that road, pretending to light a cigarette while quietly observing Santoni's residence across the street.
Outside Santoni's yard, a small gate led to the alley. On the other side of this small gate was a garage door attached to the main house. The front door of the house opened into the interior of the residential block.
This residence was close to the main street and backed by the alley, with the block accessible from within. It was an excellent position for entering, exiting, escaping, or surveillance.
Santoni Gahr's identity is indeed no simple matter!
Seeing no one around, Dean was about to go over.
Suddenly, Dean's gaze sharpened. The step he was about to take smoothly pivoted, and he walked over to a nearby trash can, crushed out his cigarette butt, and headed back down the street in the other direction.
Someone is watching me! Someone inside Santoni's house is observing me with binoculars! Luckily, their methods were amateurish, which allowed me to notice. Dammit!
Dean cursed inwardly. I hope my little act just now didn't make them suspicious!
「Meanwhile, in the attic of Santoni Gahr's house.」
A burly man with dark brown skin put down a small pair of binoculars and turned to his companion, who was hurriedly rifling through the clutter in the attic. "Bill, speed it up! Find that bastard Santoni's hidden formula, and quick!"
"Buddy, I'm anxious too," Bill replied, tossing aside a bundle of magazines. He stood up, hands on his hips, and looked at the burly man with a mischievous grin. "But it seems like we can't find that thing. Maybe Santoni never wrote down a formula. If it were me, I wouldn't have written something like that down. Santoni's dead. Without his Intoxication, the boss is definitely going to send us for a swim. Do you prefer a big rock tied to you, or being mixed into concrete? I like concrete, because..."
"FUCK! Shut your mouth!" Toss roared. "I don't want a big rock or concrete! I just want that damn formula!"
Bill shrugged at his furious companion. "Toss, we've turned this place inside out except for that garage. You know as well as I do, the formula for Intoxication was in Santoni's head. But he's dead—got killed by a stray bullet from a robber when he left the house. We haven't even sold off the current stock, and the boss hasn't received word of Santoni's death yet..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but as partners for many years, Toss knew what Bill meant. The boss was cruel by nature. Once Intoxication ran out, the addicts on their turf would be poached by other gangs, and the losses would involve more than just the profits from selling Intoxication. Even as old-timers in the gang, they would undoubtedly face death.
The only way out was to flee! To a place untouched by gang influence!
But... thinking of the boss's terror, Toss, who usually postured like a black bear, actually shivered.
He swallowed hard and said hesitantly, "Bill, I overheard Phinny mention that our gang is just an agent in Nevada for a larger organization. Gangs in other states have also recruited people like Santoni, specifically to produce Intoxication. Maybe we can think of another way."
"Ooh, Phinny?" Bill exaggeratedly gyrated his hips. "You actually got with that old woman? How was she?"
Phinny was the gang's accountant. Normally, the payments for Intoxication were regularly handed over to her to be "legitimized" through various methods before being transferred into the gang's accounts.
"I'm talking serious business here!" Toss glared at Bill, clenching his fists.
Bill spat scornfully at Toss's feet. "Buddy, use your pea brain. Our stock of Intoxication can last a week at most. Do you really think you can find a Pharmacist capable of making Intoxication from the gangs in other states, without any information, in just one week?"
If I didn't still need Toss as muscle while we're on the run, I wouldn't waste my breath on this dumb pig, Bill thought. I would've bolted alone ages ago!
"...So what do you suggest we do?" Toss asked, realizing he was being unrealistic. His clenched fists slackened, powerless.
Seeing he had convinced Toss, a cold gleam flashed in Bill's eyes. "I know a master forger in Los Angeles who specializes in fake IDs. He uses genuine information for them, but it's expensive..." He looked at Toss.
He actually managed to get to that old bat Phinny, Bill thought. What a pleasant surprise. Phinny has a wad of cash that hasn't been 'laundered' yet!
「...」
After quickly discussing their escape plan in the attic, they lost all interest in searching for the non-existent Intoxication formula. They didn't even bother to clean up the mess they'd made searching or to check the detached garage, and they left in a hurry.
They didn't notice that in a corner of the residential block, a young man in a hood and mask was silently watching them leave.
Dean memorized their appearances and key physical features. He waited a moment before crossing the block's green belt and entering Santoni's house through the slightly ajar door.
Santoni's house had three floors: two main stories and an attic.
The ground floor consisted of the living room and kitchen, which were sparsely furnished and looked quite empty.
The second floor had four rooms: two bedrooms, a study, and a bathroom.
The third-floor attic was piled high with clutter.
However, everything showed signs of being rifled through—most likely the work of the two men from earlier.
Dean didn't touch anything.
After a quick inspection, he moved to the separate garage attached to the side of the house.
I'd noticed something odd about the garage when I was on the street earlier.
The United States is vast and sparsely populated, with many uninhabited areas. Public transportation is generally underdeveloped. Air travel is the primary mode for long distances, while cars are relied upon for short trips. In a place like this, life would be quite inconvenient without a car.
The pathway outside Santoni's garage was covered in thick dust, yet there were traces on both sides of the garage door indicating it had been used. This meant Santoni hadn't driven a car in or out of the garage for a long time, yet the garage was still being used. Furthermore, on the garage's exterior wall, on the side by the house, hung no fewer than three external air purifier units.
This discovery begged the question: What is this garage used for?
Dean walked around the garage and noticed a concealed sewage outlet buried near a drain, arousing his suspicion.
It's secluded, needs sewage disposal... And considering Santoni's profession as a coroner and his high level of education...
Dean suspected this garage was either a drug lab or a place Santoni used to prepare human specimens, or even to dispose of bodies.
The garage door had an internal switch and an external remote control.
Dean took a screwdriver from his pocket, unscrewed the switch cover, pulled it off, and poked around inside with the screwdriver.
BZZT!
Sparks flew.
A faint whirring sound followed.
The garage door slowly started to lift, stopping at about a meter high.
This door clearly wasn't meant for vehicles!
Dean took a deep breath, drew his handgun, crouched down, and peered inside.
The next moment, even with his strong nerves, Dean's pupils dilated in shock at the scene before him. He was momentarily stunned.
This is...