Kent deduced that the prominent figure Old Berg transford into should not be a State Legislator—that would indeed be a true big shot. If he really beca a State Legislator, even if Satean turned into a ghost, he wouldn’t likely be his match. The town’s affairs would definitely be thoroughly sealed, and the sheriff wouldn’t have survived until now.
Then it could only be a City Councilor. In these small towns, City Councilors can indeed wield considerable power, but it also depends on one’s background; without connections, it’s hard to succeed.
Moreover, Kent also knew that Old Berg was not one of those naturally gifted politicians. Even if he turned into a council mber, he would probably be the diocre, day-by-day type, incapable of accomplishing anything significant, which is why he couldn’t wipe everyone out.
With this deduction, the target beca clear. Kent thought about it and felt that the "operator" identity had its advantages. At the very least, he could knock on any family’s door in the town using the excuse of having received a distress call. If the other party claid there was no issue, he could simply say he misheard the address, generally without consequence.
The only challenge was that councilor information is not easily accessible. However, Kent is a journalist and has plenty of experience in undercover work. Plus, he knows that his biggest asset now is his appearance. So he directly took Linda back to his apartnt, opened his computer, and searched for the forum of a nearby university to find topics related to "Sugar Daddy" and the like.
In Arica, this isn’t sothing unntionable or very shaful. Because college tuition is extrely high, many young people choose to find a Sugar Daddy or Sugar Mommy while attending university to help pay for their education.
Of course, the reason many still owe student loans is that embarking on this path requires one to be quite good-looking and to have beauty to sell. After all, good looks are rare.
Soon, Kent found several relevant posts and reached out to one person, expressing subtly from a student’s perspective his interest in finding a Sugar Daddy.
The response was enthusiastic, introducing him to an agency. Indeed, this industry is quite mature, with not only agencies but also legitimate companies, and both parties even sign contracts.
Checking the credentials of the agency online, Kent found them satisfactory. Then he sent an email with a profile picture of himself. Within seconds, a reply ca back swiftly.
The email contained nothing but a string of phone numbers. Kent went downstairs, found a public phone booth, and made the call. The voice on the other end was extrely cordial, suggesting that having a Sugar Daddy would be wasting his looks and asking why not directly contact Hollywood.
Kent skillfully played the role of a small-town boy, stating that he had no desire for fa, but was encountering so troubles and wanted to find a local big shot for protection. The other party imdiately understood: he wasn’t looking for wealth but power.
Next, they asked him where he was from. Kent said Siv City. The individual didn’t dismiss the city for being small; instead, they promised to investigate imdiately. In a matter of minutes, a list of nas was sent, along with detailed introductions about these individuals, their backgrounds, and the resources they could provide.
Having obtained this information, Kent said he needed a few days to consider and began studying it. But he wasn’t Batman; he couldn’t use minor details to deduce who was more suspicious. After reviewing for quite a while, he couldn’t determine who the ghost was, so he had to resort to a simple thod: going door-to-door.
Thanks to his appearance, any unpleasant emotion people felt upon being disturbed when opening the door usually faded within half a second. Coupled with Kent deliberately showing a clear and foolish expression, these old foxes, whether overwheld by lust or dulled by it, were ultimately brazenly daring, typically conversing with him for a bit, with so even warmly inviting him in as a guest.
Using this tactic, Kent actually identified several suspects. That night, sitting in his apartnt, he studied the remaining three subjects. Linda sat across from him, eating a burger.
"This suspect doesn’t seem likely. Although he appears to be the most lecherous, he doesn’t have the vibe of a small-town person. Even though it’s re intuition, my gut instincts are always accurate," Kent remarked about one individual, "His sense of superiority is too naturally ingrained, clearly from a wealthy family."
He shook his head, set that paper down, picked up another, and said, "This one doesn’t fit either. This person is overly shrewd, and so of the political views he expresses keep up well with current trends. Considering he’s relatively young, those ideas might have co from elder family mbers; it’s unlikely he’s from a small town."
"Then it must be this one..." Kent glanced at the docunt in his hand. The photo depicted a middle-aged man, fairly handso, with blue eyes and glasses, looking refined. The na read "Marlos."
Kent stood, wore his jacket. Linda, munching, glanced up at him. Kent looked down, saying to Linda, "Once you finish eating, leave the trash here; there’s water in that dispenser over there. If you’re thirsty, fill up a cup. I’ll leave you so money; if you get hungry, buy so snacks from the shop downstairs. Got it?"
Linda stood up, staring at him, silent. Kent understood her aning but shook his head, saying, "Tonight might be dangerous, it’s best if you don’t co. Once I finish handling things, I’ll take you to the amusent park in the city. Wait here for , okay?"
Linda remained quiet, and Kent said nothing further. He dressed, gathered his things, and headed to the back door of the police station, conveniently confronting the sheriff as he ca off duty.
"Alright, Sheriff, let’s not beat around the bush. Hand over the gun, then I can knock you out and act like I took it by force."
The sheriff looked at him, speechless.
"I dislike resorting to violence, especially with soone who hasn’t committed a cri. But my patience has limits. You don’t seriously think you can take , right?"
Cursing, the sheriff reluctantly dug out the gun, handed it over, and said, "For Vinnie’s sake, take it and don’t die!"
"I’m not known for disappointing people."
Knocking resounded through the empty street, and a sleepy figure opened the door, seeing only the sturdy figure standing outside. Before a word was spoken, the ominous gun barrel pressed against his head.
"Get inside, or I’ll shoot." Kent coldly demanded.
User Comments
0 comments from readers