Super Detective in the Fictional World

Chapter 1598 - Professional Connection, and Snacks Before the Feast



Chapter 1598 Professional Connection, and Snacks Before the Feast

Tamping down on her shivers, the red-haired girl walked forward, and a question popped into her head: How many people had that guy in the black coat killed?

100? 300? 500? Except for that inhuman monster, she really couldn’t think of any other existence with an aura of death that could fill the sky.

Their cars were on the roadside dozens of meters away. Everyone quickly got in and left.

The two girls had their own driver, who hadn’t followed them into the park, and who thus was still composed.

The two cars behind them swerved and crashed into a few shrubs on the side of the road before barely making it back onto the road.

But the people in the cars didn’t complain. Everybody was shaking, including the drivers.

They weren’t rookies, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen people die before.

But nobody could remain calm when they saw the heads of two of their own turned into takoyaki balls and nailed to the bench.

Ten minutes later, a few calls were made from a courtyard in Meguro in Shirokanedai. Many people in Tokyo started moving.

Half an hour later, at a food stall near Shinjuku Park, a bald cook put on gloves and picked up the phone that was ringing nonstop. “Hello? Hm, there was indeed someone like that. It’s fine… No need.”

Thinking for a moment, the bald cook asked, “Can I ask what he did?”

He hung up after saying a few words.

The bald cook put down his phone and pondered deeply.

Behind him, two drunk middle-aged men shouted, “Where’s the alcohol? Why isn’t it here yet?”

The bald cook smiled and put the phone back into the drawer. He shook his head and turned around. “Please wait a moment. It’ll be here soon.”

Pleased, the middle-aged white-collar worker nodded in satisfaction. “Heike-san, your food is as good as ever.”

After praising him, he started bickering with his friend again, completely dismissing the fact that there was no connection between giving him alcohol and cooking.

This was how Japanese people were. They usually reminded themselves not to cause trouble for others. When they got drunk… they caused trouble openly. Getting drunk after work was their way to relax.

After all, nobody could demand that a drunkard be as polite as a normal person.

Picking up two bottles of sake and placing them in front of the two drunkards, the bald cook straightened and looked at the raindrops falling from the roof. “John Wick, was it

you?”

As he spoke, he picked up a chopstick.

It was like the chopsticks that had pierced the heads of the two men – it was thin, black and smooth.

The cook suddenly paused before stabbing a big fish on the side with the chopstick.

The bald cook glanced at the fish and sighed. He then swept the fish and chopstick into a nearby trash can.

It was hard enough to stab a fish with a chopstick, let alone a person’s head. It was practically impossible.

Was the Boogeyman already that strong? The bald cook had complicated feelings.

For a moment, he felt that his beloved kitchen knives wasn’t that sharp.

Luke didn’t know that casually using chopsticks to kill two people would actually cause people to link him to the Boogeyman. This alias was only 50 to 60% similar to John Wick’s appearance right now. Anyone could tell at a glance that they weren’t the same person.

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Coincidentally, the bald cook was a “professional” who had heard a lot about the Boogeyman, but had never seen him with his own eyes.

Luke’s cover this time was only to differentiate the alias from his real identity, yet a professional had still been able to pick out clues from his actions.

It wasn’t that Luke was careless, but that it was unnecessary for him to be careful.

There were professionals everywhere in the world. As long as nothing could be linked back to Luke’s real identity, the other aliases weren’t too important.

It was only the Dark Knight who had to be a little more careful. It would be best if he could use this identity for another three to five years.

As for the rest, the most he could say was that it was a pity; it definitely wouldn’t cause him any pain to lose them.

It was even less of an issue for an alias like the Boogeyman.

As long as he could keep Gianna acting as an informant at the High Table, it didn’t matter what other people thought.

Using Pheromone Control and Hypnosis to control Gianna was also a backup plan.

If he did that, however, the matter of keeping it up for the future would be more troublesome. Forced control through hypnosis wasn’t as good as her own willingness plus a little Hynopsis as “insurance.”

That was what Luke had always done.

That way, even if there was someone who could break his “spell,” Gianna wouldn’t “come back to her senses” and turn against him.

After walking some distance, Luke threw the bag into his inventory. At the same time, his figure gradually turned transparent and disappeared into the night.

At that moment, four mid-sized drones and over 1,000 mini drones covered the night sky of Tokyo.

This had started ever since he arrived in Tokyo in the morning. A complete map of the city, including the underground, was being swiftly perfected.

To do a good job, one had to first sharpen their tools.

Tokyo was a super metropolis. In terms of population size, only New York could just barely compare, while Los Angeles was like a kindergartener.

At the end of 2005, there were 15 million people in Tokyo, while New York only had nine million in the same year.

Even all the people in the metropolitan region of Greater Los Angeles added up still wasn’t enough to match the scale of a city like Tokyo.

The total population of the greater metropolitan region of Tokyo was even more terrifying — it was close to 40 million people.

That wasn’t a good thing.

The United States, for example, felt helpless about Greater Los Angeles, and had no choice but to believe that this was a case of failed development.

A bigger population wasn’t an issue, but there were a lot of serious problems when a bunch of cities were crammed together.

The population size in Japan wasn’t a big problem, mostly because of the Japanese code of conduct.

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Greater Los Angeles was the opposite.

Whenever there were riots in Los Angeles, most of the instigators were unemployed or low-income earners.

This was pretty much like your rich neighbor’s house catching fire, and if you went in to pinch some things, no one would notice

In other words, it was fishing in troubled waters.

The fact that Tokyo, with over 40 million people in its greater metropolitan region, seldom experienced something similar, was a wonder.

Given Luke’s OCD, he wouldn’t officially get to work until he had done enough reconnaissance.

This was also one of the reasons why he had switched to tourist mode.

He had to prepare more for a feast, but he could have some snacks first.

The Japanese yakuza weren’t as “fat” as the Mexican cartels, but it would be strange to say that there were no major drug rings in a metropolis of over ten million people.

It could be said that Luke had long thought of throwing drugs into Tokyo Bay for some time now.

After all, he had also thrown plenty into the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean, and the Gulf of Mexico.

It was a rare opportunity to come to Japan; it wouldn’t be fair not to feed the sealife in Tokyo Bay a little extra.

As Luke pondered, he explored the busy nightlife in Tokyo.


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