I Want to Take All Three

"Oh, what's that."

"I'll take care of the Assistance that wanted to snatch your son first."

"..."

The atmosphere in the booth was a bit quiet.

Hearing this, Carlos retracted the smile from his face and looked at Lake, who had a smile on his face. His mind seemed to freeze for a moment, as if replaying what Lake had just said.

Lake said with a smile, "How about this? I'll do it first. Once it's done, you'll pay me the reward for keeping your son's normal life safe. What do you say?"

Carlos heard him clearly this time.

But.

It was precisely because he heard clearly that Carlos looked directly at Lake, a hint of anger appearing on his face, "Are you kidding me?"

Lake's expression remained unchanged, "Do you think I'd stay up late and come over just to fool around?"

Carlos nodded, "So, you're a lunatic."

Lake shook his head, "I have a certificate from the hospital. Of course, if you want me to do this, you need to give me some information about how the Assistance is the Textile Factory first. Handwritten is fine."

A former defected assassin member to prove that the Assistance is the Textile Factory.

This was ironclad evidence, wasn't it?

If this wasn't enough, Lake felt that Inspector Montgomery must have some shady deal with the Assistance. Lake was ready to expose the rot within the police department.

"And besides..."

Lake looked at Carlos, "The Continental Hotel doesn't have any rules against assassins killing members of other assassin organizations."

Yes.

This was a loophole in plain sight.

Assassins were not allowed to betray their organization, but assassins from different organizations could kill members of other organizations. It was just that most people didn't think of operating that way.

Carlos frowned, looking at Lake in front of him with a blank expression.

Lake glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost ten o'clock. He wondered if his girlfriend had called him. If she had, and he had missed the call and rushed to Starlight Tower, he would have to come up with an excuse.

After a long pause.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, "Alright, what kind of information do you want?"

Lake rubbed his chin, "Handwritten is fine. Just write about how the Assistance uses the Textile Factory as a cover for their shady dealings, and then write down your personal information."

As he spoke.

Lake waved at the bartender. While waiting for the bartender to come over, he said to Carlos, "Once you've written it, that's it. If you don't believe me, you can pay attention to the NYPD's location tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. If you're worried it's an ambush, you can watch from afar. After I'm done, we can meet here again for the next transaction, but the item for that transaction will need to be changed."

Carlos asked, "Change what?"

Lake smiled and said, "Your bounty!"

Carlos: "..."

By then, after Lake took down the Assistance, The Continental Hotel would intervene and directly issue a bounty order for Carlos. The Continental Hotel didn't care about anything else, especially since Carlos was a traitorous assassin. Even if the Assistance was taken down by the police, The Continental Hotel wouldn't let a traitorous assassin live happily.

So Carlos would still face a bounty from The Continental Hotel, which was a reward of two million. Lake figured he could earn this money.

Wow.

I'm going to get rich quick with this.

Lake was already fantasizing about becoming rich overnight.

Eleven o'clock at night.

Lake, wearing glasses, returned to Starlight Tower.

He opened the door.

As expected.

Maureen, who was sitting on the sofa wearing glasses and reading a psychology book, looked at Lake entering from outside and said, "Where did you go?"

Lake turned and closed the door, "I went for drinks with Bob at the bar. That guy is leaving New York in a few days."

Bob Lee Swagger.

Lake's comrade from his time in the service. They had served together, coughed together, and executed two overseas combat missions together. He had enlisted before Lake and retired after Lake.

Maureen took off her glasses and walked up to Lake, taking the suit jacket he had taken off. She sniffed it and said, "Is that your SEAL buddy?"

Lake hummed and walked over to the bar, looking at his phone on the counter. He tapped it and raised his eyebrows, "Twelve missed calls. I thought you weren't coming over today."

Maureen definitely had some sort of controlling tendency.

After the initial passion of their relationship had passed, Lake looked up at Maureen and chuckled, thinking this to himself.

Maureen rolled her eyes, "You were in a shootout today."

Lake said, "So what? I don't need psychological counseling."

"In the land of the free, there's a shootout every day."

That's the typical American narrative.

Maureen settled onto her barstool and looked at Lake, who had just poured himself a bourbon and downed it in one go. "Why don't you tell me what happened today?" she asked.

Lake thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing much to talk about. Justice ultimately triumphed over evil."

"That's not what I'm asking about."

"Then what are you asking about?"

"I heard you applied to Inspector Montgomery for a search warrant for the Textile Factory?"

"Yeah."

Lake looked at his girlfriend, who, despite not being on the street, was remarkably well-informed. He shrugged. "What's the big deal?"

Maureen frowned. "You'd better not act without evidence. That Textile Factory isn't just connected to the disability association; it's also tied to the Mayor and the Governor."

It was said that the current Mayor of New York City owed his victory over his opponent to the voting bloc controlled by the disability association, as Director Sloan of the Textile Factory had appeared at one of his fundraising events.

Lake felt like laughing. "God, you sound exactly like Montgomery."

Maureen's expression turned serious. "That's because Montgomery told me that. He knows your personality, and he believes you. But when dealing with an organization like that, you need to be extra careful. If you act recklessly, the pressure from above will make you lose everything."

That was reality.

After all, this was a capitalist country. Money was everything, and power... couldn't beat money.

Lake let out a scoff.

Lose everything.

Everything Lake had now, he had built himself from nothing. Even though it was just a part-time job, it was hard-earned money. Anyone who dared to take it, Lake would chop off their hands.

Maureen frowned. "Lake, I'm talking about the real consequences. You absolutely cannot act rashly on this matter."

Lake nodded, giving a perfunctory "Okay."

Maureen emphasized again, "I'm serious."

As Lake's girlfriend, Maureen knew his personality too well and naturally recognized the perfunctory tone in his reply. Even without the advantage of being his girlfriend, Maureen's profession as a psychological therapist was enough for her to see that Lake wasn't taking her words to heart.

Maureen sighed. "Do you know why an anonymous letter got you suspended and investigated?"

PS: Bob—Bob Lee Swagger, from Shooter!

Happy weekend, everyone!