"Yes. This is a massacre."
Reacher confird Finlay's conclusion, though there was an unusual glint of interest in his eyes—as if the situation had suddenly beco far more intriguing than expected.
A billionaire, no matter where he was, always carried influence. And this ti, it wasn't just Kleiner involved—there were dozens of bodies as well.
This wasn't sothing that would remain contained in Magrave.
The state governnt, and even other agencies, would all turn their attention here.
"And this massacre… isn't over yet."
Reacher had already co to a near-certain conclusion about the identity of the killer.
Until everyone who deserved to die was dead, the killer would not stop.
Finlay and Roscoe froze for a mont before realizing what that ant.
They exchanged a glance.
Roscoe frowned sharply, then turned and walked off without hesitation.
"Roscoe."
Finlay called after her, but she didn't even slow down.
He then looked toward Reacher.
Reacher nodded.
"I'll go with her."
With that, he followed Roscoe.
She didn't object.
Roscoe drove all the way through town with Reacher in the passenger seat, eventually arriving at a house and stopping in front of it.
Matthew's ho.
It wasn't even noon yet.
Roscoe rang the doorbell.
No one answered.
After a mont, she turned back and got into the car without a word.
Reacher raised a brow but followed her again.
This ti, Roscoe drove toward the town cetery.
Inside the cetery, they walked along rain-soaked paths until they saw a lone figure standing before a gravestone.
The sa dark green Air Force jacket.
The sa baseball cap.
The sa umbrella.
He stood in silence, gazing at the photo on the tombstone—Daniel.
Tall and upright, he looked like a tree that refused to fall even in the storm.
Roscoe strode forward angrily.
Reacher followed behind her—but his brows slowly furrowed as he stared at Matthew's side profile.
A strange, inexplicable sense of danger crept into his chest.
As a veteran who had survived countless battlefields, Reacher's instinct for danger far exceeded that of ordinary people.
It was precisely that instinct that had saved his life more tis than he could count.
And right now, that sa instinct was screaming at him.
He felt like he was looking at a predator.
A feral beast.
And approaching it felt… wrong.
Very wrong.
The closer he got, the stronger that sensation beca, until it crawled under his skin and raised every hair on his body.
His body tensed without permission.
"Matthew, have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you've done?" Roscoe grabbed him and shouted.
She and Matthew had known each other for years.
Daniel had trained them both together, and over a long period of shared experience, the twenty-four-year-old Roscoe had long since started treating Matthew like a younger brother.
Matthew turned slightly.
He looked at her hand gripping his shoulder, then glanced past her at the large man behind—Reacher—before calmly turning back to face the angry female officer.
"I've always been doing what needed to be done, Roscoe."
He stepped forward slightly, adjusting the umbrella so that it covered her as well.
It was a small gesture, but Roscoe didn't make a big deal out of it.
Concern like this was simply part of their daily interactions.
Still, she hadn't expected him to neither deny nor hide anything. That honesty made her feel both anger and relief at the sa ti.
"Sixty-three lives. You're telling that's what needed to be done?"
"Yes," Matthew said evenly. "This is what needed to be done. Daniel once said that when justice cannot be delivered, pure revenge becos the only justice."
"Damn it, this is going to be impossible to contain. The FBI, and probably other agencies too, are going to get involved."
Roscoe exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated, then forced herself to calm down.
Daniel's way of teaching had always been extre—she could only sigh at it. He really was a veteran soldier; his thods were as hard as iron.
Then, more softly, she said, "You need to leave. Get out of here."
"I will leave," Matthew answered, "but not now. I still have sothing to finish."
"You still have sothing to do? What exactly do you know?" Roscoe's voice rose again.
Her chest rose and fell with anger.
She knew very well that once the state governnt took notice, investigators would arrive in Magrave within two days.
And whether it was the death scenes, or the fact that Daniel's adopted son was directly involved…
Matthew would inevitably be questioned.
Roscoe didn't care that Matthew had suddenly gained the power to kill so many people, but openly opposing violent state institutions was clearly a foolish decision—one that bordered on suicide.
"Kleiner's human trafficking operation."
At that mont, the man who had been silent all along—Reacher—suddenly spoke. His words imdiately drew both Roscoe and Matthew's attention.
Roscoe turned toward him. "Human trafficking?"
"Fact is, Kleiner has always been involved in smuggling, arms dealing, drug trafficking, and human trafficking," Reacher said with a firm nod. "But among all of those, he didn't care much about the first three. What he truly cared about were the people being trafficked."
Matthew looked at the large man standing under the rain.
"You showed up once at Daniel's funeral. The file Daniel had… is it with you?"
"You're as smart as Daniel was," Reacher replied, his eyes deep and unreadable.
"Daniel and I were friends. A little over a month ago, he contacted . He said he had discovered a criminal organization in this town. Aside from Roscoe, he didn't trust anyone in the police departnt. As his investigation went deeper, he realized sothing was wrong."
"He originally planned to have co here to find you and protect you in case soone tried to kill you. Unfortunately, by the ti I arrived… he was already dead."
Reacher turned his head slightly, looking at Daniel's photo on the gravestone. Even his usually expressionless face carried a faint trace of sorrow.
Another friend gone.
"What happens next can be left to ," he said calmly. "This situation has gotten too big. You should leave the town for now. I can handle everything afterward."
Reacher had a strong sense of justice and zero tolerance for wrongdoing.
He didn't care that Matthew had killed so many people—he knew those people deserved to die. Reacher was not a rigid follower of the law; he had his own flexibility.
From his perspective, it made sense.
The adopted son of a police chief who had been murdered while investigating a criminal case choosing revenge was only natural. When the law failed to deliver justice, people had to find their own.
And Reacher believed Daniel would never have raised a child who was truly evil.
Everyone Matthew had killed was soone who deserved it. The ones who shouldn't have been touched… hadn't been.
And after the killings, Matthew hadn't imdiately fled. Instead, he was preparing to dismantle the entire human trafficking network.
That alone proved he wasn't a monster.
So Reacher decided he would clean up this ss for him—even if it ant pulling a lot of strings.
"Then I'll have to think about where to go," Matthew said without rejecting the offer. In truth, he had already made up his mind about what ca next.
"Matthew…"
Roscoe bit her lip. She clearly didn't want to see him forced to leave the town he had lived in for more than a decade.
"Alright, I'm off," Matthew said lightly, waving his hand as if it didn't matter. There was reluctance in his heart, but he could not stay.
He understood what he needed to do now—beco stronger.
Using the Glint-Glint Fruit in this incident would inevitably leave traces behind. There would be people who beca deeply interested in him.
He wasn't strong enough yet. Not nearly enough to face an entire military force.
Whether for his own safety or to avoid dragging Roscoe into danger, he had to leave.
He knew how to weigh choices.
Having the power of the Glint-Glint Fruit didn't make him invincible.
Watching Matthew walk away, Roscoe let out a helpless sigh.
Reacher, on the other hand, looked at his departing figure with growing admiration.
Rational. Calm. Mature.
Daniel… you raised an exceptional child.
He'll do well in the future. You don't need to worry anymore.
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