Chapter 121: The Agents
"This is really strange," muttered the Los Angeles police as they repeatedly reviewed the hotel surveillance footage of Joseph's death, all wearing expressions of confusion.
Joseph, a billionaire who had just declared bankruptcy, died shortly afterward. There was clearly something suspicious about the situation.
The government took this matter very seriously, forming a special task force to find Joseph's killer.
However, no matter how much they scrutinized the footage, they couldn't determine how Joseph was killed or what method the killer used.
The police suspected tampering with the hotel surveillance but found no issues after multiple checks.
The waitress who fainted from shock was taken to the hospital and revived. As the sole eyewitness, she might provide crucial clues.
Yet, after questioning, she claimed that an invisible force killed Joseph.
The police suspected she might have been mentally affected by the trauma, but experts confirmed her mental state was fine and her account truthful.
Faced with such a supernatural case, the investigation hit a dead end. Now, they could only hope the forensic team might find some useful clues from the autopsy.
'Knock, knock, knock'—as the task force investigated Joseph's death, a knock came at the door, and several men in black suits entered.
"We're agents from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. From now on, Joseph's case is under our jurisdiction. Everyone must sign a confidentiality agreement," the lead agent announced.
To the task force's shock, all materials related to Joseph's case were packed and taken by the agents, including Joseph's body.
Meanwhile, outside Joseph's New York villa, a black sedan pulled up, and several agents got out.
"When will we ever get a break?" the lead agent complained, removing his sunglasses and eyeing the sealed estate.
"I'm Agent John Garrett. This area is now under the jurisdiction of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," he said, flashing his eagle-embossed badge to the police.
The agents dispersed the onlookers and entered the villa, deploying various devices for scanning.
Agent Garrett reviewed the police's collected testimonies and identity records.
"Agent Garrett, we found a suspicious basement," reported an agent.
"This doesn't seem quite right," Garrett commented, examining the eerie basement.
"Agent Garrett, the yellow residue on the door tested as sulfur," a technician reported.
"Understood. I didn't expect a billionaire to be a demon worshiper, possibly even a cult member. Collect everything from here," Garrett ordered.
The agents took everything from the estate, including trash.
Unaware of these events, Frank had just sold bottles he collected all day, buying two hamburgers to enjoy on a park bench.
Released from the police station with no money, just a few old books, and no friends or family, Frank thought of his new friend Henry at Pop's Barber Shop in Harlem. He could seek refuge there.
However, he had no idea how to get to Harlem and no money for transportation.
Determined not to be defeated, Frank returned to his old ways, collecting recyclables to earn some cash.
Quickly, he experienced the fierce competition in a global city like New York, where even collecting recyclables was highly contested.
Many homeless people, and even retirees unable to live on their pensions, competed for recyclables. One elderly woman, a former Microsoft employee with a PhD, was among them.
The competition in New York was far more intense than in Chicago, where people knew the best spots and had territorial awareness.
Struggling against seasoned collectors and facing threats, Frank only managed to buy two hamburgers after a day's work.
"Wonder how things are back home. Should I call and ask them to bring me back?" Frank pondered.
Back in Chicago's Alibi Bar, everything was as usual, with scruffy men drinking cheap beer and sharing raunchy stories.
"Hey! Look at that on the TV—isn't that Frank?" Fat Tommy said, squinting at the TV on the wall and suddenly exclaimed.
"Hmm?" Kevin looked up and saw Frank on the screen.
"It really is Frank!" Kevin said, turning up the volume, drawing the bar's attention to the news.
The news covered Joseph's bankruptcy, a significant event given his billionaire status.
A live report from outside Joseph's estate showed Frank and others being put into police cars. Due to proximity, Frank received a close-up shot.
"Joseph went bankrupt?"
"Frank got arrested; he's in real trouble now."
"Not just Frank—everyone was arrested."
"What does Frank's arrest have to do with Joseph's bankruptcy?"
Normally, a billionaire's bankruptcy wouldn't concern them; it was just news unrelated to their lives.
But this news was different; it involved someone they knew. Many envied Frank and others for leaving with Joseph to enjoy New York.
No one expected such a dramatic turn of events.
In the close-knit slum, news spread rapidly, reaching Sheila, Fiona, and others quickly.
"Sweetheart, we must save Frank!" Sheila paused the video, worriedly telling Karen after seeing Frank being put into a police car.
"Frank will be fine, Mom," Karen reassured, watching the news.
"Frank..." Fiona and others watched the news at Frank's house, frowning.
"Fiona, Dad..." Debbie began.
"He'll be okay," Fiona said, ruffling Debbie's hair.
"Tony, could you find out from the New York police why Frank was arrested?" Fiona called Officer Tony to inquire.