When Hawke walked out of the alley again, he was completely transformed.
He wore a neat and well-fitting suit and had a short, trimmed haircut.
Handsome!
Confident!
Still handsome!
Even a crime expert would never connect the current Hawke with the previously timid Hawke, who was wearing casual clothes and glasses.
"Taxi."
Hawke walked to the roadside, hailed a taxi, glanced at the police cars that were once again speeding towards Star Tower, and got into the taxi, saying to himself, "Brooklyn, Bedford Avenue!"
The driver nodded, pressed the accelerator, and sped off.
A few years ago, when Hawke first came to New York, he had planned to buy an apartment in Star Tower in Manhattan and settle down with Lorna.
But...
At that time, Hawke didn't have money, and Star Tower also had no available units. So, Hawke and Lorna's current home is on Bedford Avenue in Brooklyn.
Although in terms of distance, Bedford Avenue is only separated from Manhattan Island by the East River, if they wanted to get from Bedford Avenue to Midtown High School, where he and Lorna currently study, it would take half an hour even by car.
And sometimes even longer.
After all, during New York City's morning rush hour, when traffic jams, it's better to walk. This is also why Hawke just brought up the idea of buying an apartment in Star Tower again.
Because, if things go well, in a few days, an apartment on the twenty-seventh floor of Star Tower will be put up for sale.
If not, should he squeeze out the commission from the next order and buy the house first?
Hawke calculated his assets accumulated since becoming a killer. Although he had nearly three million, it was still some distance from buying an apartment in Star Tower.
What's more...
This three million was not above-board assets. After finding someone to launder it, the money he would actually receive would be at most two hundred sixty thousand.
Hopefully, the commission for the next order will be more substantial.
Hawke thought to himself, then came back to his senses, looked at Bedford Avenue, which was already close by, stopped the taxi, paid the fare, pushed open the car door, and stepped out.
Ten minutes later.
When Hawke turned a corner and could see the Hudson River, there was a classic two-story house by the roadside and a girl with green hair standing at the doorstep, looking down at her watch.
"Lorna..."
Hawke's eyebrow twitched. He called out to the girl, then walked up to her amidst her surprised and angry expression, gazing at her strange yet soft green hair: "We've talked about this many times."
As soon as he finished speaking.
Hawke saw Lorna's originally green hair gradually turn into an ordinary golden color.
The same golden color as Hawke's hair.
"Sorry."
Lorna looked at Hawke, who had appeared, and said, "Sorry," but shrugged her shoulders: "I thought you weren't coming back."
Hawke was speechless: "And then what, you were going to search the World for me with that green hair?"
"Of course not."
Lorna shook her head, her face serious: "If I did that, the organization you mentioned might find me, and then I could ask them to help me find you."
Hawke opened his mouth.
For a long time.
Hawke shook his head and walked towards the house.
Lorna turned and followed closely behind Hawke.
"Where did you go?"
"Something came up."
"You were out for over five hours. I saw you rushing out when school ended. Did you go on a date with that bitch?"
"Language."
Hawke opened the door, turned around, and looked at Lorna, who was probably in her puberty, and said, "Watch your language, Lorna. Never use foul language, especially such insulting words."
That race that constantly uses foul language and feels proud of it is not a race that humans should be.
Lorna nodded obediently.
"Alright, then you went on a date with some shameless female classmate."
...
Lorna blinked, looking at Hawke, who had turned around again, his face filled with a speechless expression: "What's wrong? Even the Chinese teacher wouldn't say there's a dirty word in that sentence."
Hawke was silent for a while, then couldn't help but sigh.
Damn puberty.
Hawke remembered that before the age of fourteen, his sister Lorna was as cute and beautiful as could be.
But...
As soon as she entered puberty, she was like a wild horse unbridled. Her formerly ladylike demeanor seemed to have galloped towards the direction of a punk girl, never to return.
Huh.
Why didn't I have puberty?
Hawke blinked, then walked towards the bar near the living room on the first floor.
Took out the alcohol.
Poured the alcohol.
In one fluid motion.
"You still haven't answered my question."
Lorna sat on a high stool at the bar, looking at Hawke, who had just downed a full glass of bourbon, feeling like she had to get to the bottom of it: "Did you go on a date with Gwen?"
Hawke's hand holding the glass paused.
"What?"
"Then was it with Michelle?"
"Who is that?"
Hawke frowned.
"Michelle Jones."
"Don't know her."
"The mixed-race girl with slightly dark skin."
"Oh."
Hawke remembered, then scoffed and looked at Lorna: "I'm not interested in beasts. Similarly, I'm even less interested in mongrels."
Lorna's eyes widened: "Hey, you just said not to use foul language."
Hawke put down his glass, looked at Lorna, and shook his head: "No, no, no, this is the truth, not foul language."
Lorna opened her mouth.
Hawke put the empty glass into the sink, shook his head, pulled up the backpack he had just placed at his feet, and tossed it in front of Lorna: "For your big supermarket haul. I picked up several packs of very good quality steaks."
"Really?"
Lorna's eyes lit up. She got up, opened the backpack, and took out box after box, a total of five boxes, of high-quality Wagyu beef steaks: "Wow, it's Wagyu! Oh my God, how much did you spend?"
Hawke looked at the excited Lorna and smiled.
"Didn't spend much. You know, high-end supermarkets in Manhattan often clear out inventory."
"That's true."
Lorna nodded.
Manhattan is New York's rich island. Those supermarkets specifically for the wealthy will directly mark down and sell meat that's over twenty-four hours old.
Just like calling the police in Manhattan.
If you call the police in Manhattan, a police car will reach you in at most one minute.
But if you call the police in the Queens slums, haha, eighteen minutes is considered fast.
Hawke looked at Lorna, who was carrying the steaks towards the refrigerator, excitedly saying that she would fry steaks tomorrow night. He smiled and said, "Alright, I'm going back to my room first."
Lorna didn't even turn her head: "Okay, good night."
...