Chapter 65: The Slums
"Anything else? If not, I'm logging off—staying up too late is murder on my skin," Paige yawned into the mic.
"Hold on, just one more hour and it'll all be over," Ron replied casually, hands on the wheel as he chatted with her to pass the time. "Seriously though, have you ever considered doing research at a university? Like my brother? Hiding at home all day playing video games is a criminal waste of your IQ."
"Being smart doesn't mean I'm obligated to serve mankind. Where did you get that idea?" Paige's tone instantly turned sharp and sarcastic. "Do you really think Sheldon studies physics out of some noble desire to advance human civilization? Please. It's just for his own curiosity—and, of course, the glory."
Ron sighed and shrugged, helpless.
"Well, my mom still thinks you and Sheldon would make a great couple."
He knew better than to argue with a genius who could absolutely destroy him in a battle of wits.
"Me? Date Sheldon?" Paige exclaimed in disbelief. Despite her scathing tone, there was still a hint of warmth in her voice—especially when speaking about Mary, Ron's mother, who had supported Paige during her parents' divorce. Out of respect, she restrained herself from any further venom.
"I'm dead serious. Her tone wasn't joking at all," Ron said, just as a convoy of vehicles passed by on the other side of the road. He caught the FBI insignia on the driver's shoulder patch and smiled.
Just as Paige predicted, they had crossed paths on Highway 1.
"Honestly though, does your family even know your brother?" Paige asked.
Ron groaned.
"No way. Sometimes I even suspect he's not into women at all. I don't want to talk to him about that stuff. Last time, back in college, he saw me kiss you and launched into a full-blown lecture on reproductive health."
He cringed at the memory.
"That was my first kiss, damn it. I barely had time to enjoy the moment before Sheldon completely killed the mood."
"That was my first kiss too…" Paige muttered under her breath.
Ron didn't catch it.
"What did you say?"
"I said," she quickly shifted gears, "maybe you should be more concerned about your brother's mental health. One time I accidentally hacked into Sheldon's phone—guess what I found?"
Ron chuckled.
"What else? Probably just physics research. I've got zero interest in whatever's on his phone."
"Video files. Titled: Granny vs Granny: Ultimate Showdown."
Ron coughed violently, nearly choking on his own spit. He pulled over to the side of the road.
"Wait, what?! Why would he be into that kind of thing?!"
"Don't ask me. I'm just as confused," Paige replied, her voice going hazy with sleep. "Anyway, I just saw from the satellite that you've arrived. I'm off to bed. And don't forget—you promised me a date. Good night."
"It's only 10 PM. That early?" Ron glanced at his watch, but the earpiece had already gone silent.
He shook his head and muttered, "What a strange girl… Are all geniuses this weird?"
Meanwhile, in an ordinary New York apartment, a delicate girl lay in bed, clutching a pillow between her legs. She took off her headset, kicked her feet in the air, and exhaled deeply before collapsing back onto the mattress like a deflated balloon.
Inside her dimly lit bedroom, Paige's laptop screen was still aglow—playing back live footage from a military satellite. On the screen: Ron, caught from above, bent over as he opened the trunk of his car.
Paige stared dreamily at the image, her voice soft and wistful:
"Ron… Sooner or later, you're going to be mine…"
She reached for her pillow to go to sleep, only to spot a large, suspiciously damp patch on it. Her face instantly flushed crimson. Mortified, she hurled the pillow across the room and buried her head under the sheets.
---
Meanwhile, across town, Ron had climbed onto the rooftop of a rundown building in the slums. The clutter scattered across the roof made it difficult to move quietly, and his passage stirred up quite a bit of noise.
But no one inside came out.
Or maybe… they heard him and just pretended not to.
After all, if you saw a guy carrying a weapon almost as tall as himself crawling across your roof, playing dumb was probably the smartest move. That was the unspoken rule of survival in the American slums.
"Let's see here…" Ron murmured as he opened the satellite map Paige had sent him. Cross-referencing it with Monica's intel, he quickly pinpointed three houses occupied by Verone's men. The layout was triangular, forming a perfect pinwheel pattern in the middle of an open lot.
They weren't close to any other buildings, which made things easier—no chance of collateral damage.
"Time to test out this big boy~"
He adjusted the electronic sight on his LG-5 grenade launcher, aiming at the house on the right. With a smooth pull of the trigger—
Thoom.
The launcher gave off a crisp pop with surprisingly little recoil. Even as a seasoned shooter, Ron couldn't help but grin.
"Damn… this thing feels amazing."
The grenade arced through the air, crashed through the window—and exploded.
BOOM!
The makeshift house blew apart, nearly half its walls reduced to rubble. Amid the debris were two bodies, bloodied and broken.
"F**K! We're under attack! Everyone get the hell up!"
A shirtless thug stumbled out of the wreckage, gripping an AK-47, shouting to the other two houses. He scanned the dark street, eyes darting in panic, trying to figure out where the attack had come from.
But Ron wasn't about to give him the chance.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"See ya, scumbag."
He pulled the trigger again. A 40mm grenade slammed directly into the thug's torso.
It barely met resistance before the impact triggered the fuse.
BOOM!
A massive splash of blood exploded where the man stood, sending gore flying in all directions—spraying a bleary-eyed thug who had just stepped outside the neighboring house.
Is it… raining?
The man reached up to wipe his face. His hand came away sticky. He glanced at it under the streetlight—and froze.
Then the third grenade arrived.
BOOM!
He followed his comrade into oblivion.
Ron stared down at the destruction in awe.
"This thing is crazy powerful…" he muttered, gently stroking the weapon like a man in love. "But I like it."
He fired off three more rounds in quick succession.
The final explosion leveled the third house entirely, reduced to flaming debris. The remaining thugs in the center house finally realized what was happening. In a panic, they rushed out with weapons and fired blindly into the empty street.
But Ron was already done with the heavy artillery.
According to Monica's intel, the money and evidence were hidden inside the walls of that central building. Another grenade would risk destroying them. Reluctantly, he set the launcher aside and drew his pistol.
Then he jumped from the roof, silent as a shadow.