Fifth Avenue, Manhattan.
Starlight Tower!
It was an extraordinarily mysterious building. Ever since its founder began selling the first apartment after its completion, he had stubbornly adhered to one highly unusual principle.
People of African descent were not allowed to move in!
Because of this.
Over the course of nearly twenty years, the building's founder had fought almost five hundred lawsuits. With the support of the apartment residents, he had not lost a single one.
Because...
This rule was never stated openly, and the apartment residents also tacitly followed the principle whenever they sold their units. Even if a buyer of African descent offered twice the market price, they would not sell. Once someone sold to a Black buyer, the other residents would unite to boycott that person, forcing them to deeply experience the power of money through resistance from every direction.
The thirty-eighth floor.
As soon as Lake entered the apartment, he saw his girlfriend, who had returned home before him, cooking in the kitchen.
His girlfriend worked in the same building as Lake, though not on the same floor. She was one of the experts on the NYPD's Hostage Negotiation Team, as well as a psychotherapist.
Maureen Hand!
His girlfriend, busy cooking dinner in the kitchen, looked at Lake as he entered. "You're back?"
Lake hummed in response, took off his suit jacket, walked over, hugged her, and kissed her. Looking at the food she was preparing, he raised his eyebrows in some distress. "So today is the weekly Vegetable Day?"
"Correct."
"Can I apply to eat at the beef restaurant next door?"
"No."
"..."
With a smile, Maureen pushed Lake away. "Don't bother me. It'll be ready soon."
Lake let out a wail.
He was a carnivore, and this weekly Vegetable Day was practically a day of disaster for him.
Could vegetables even fill him up?
Lake tried to argue his case. "Honey, you know I've returned to work, and I've just taken over a case. Without enough calories, I'll be very weak."
A smile played at the corners of Maureen's eyes. "So, are you resting tonight?"
Lake's eyes widened. "What? No, no, no."
Maureen said, "Then you won't be weak. You work very hard. You work very hard every night."
Lake: "..."
I suspect you're driving, and driving fast.
Lake opened and closed his mouth as the boiled broccoli came out of the kitchen. Its vivid green color looked fresh and enticing to his girlfriend, but in his eyes, it was something abnormal. Just looking at it made it difficult to swallow.
This was bad.
If I'd known today was Vegetable Day, I wouldn't have come home so early.
Lake's thoughts raced. While waiting for the food to be served, he prayed for an emergency call to come in, informing him that another building beside the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane.
But...
Lake's prayers went unanswered.
At the dining table.
Lake looked at the various green vegetables on the plate before him, completely lacking an appetite.
His girlfriend, sitting across from him, ate with great relish.
"Oh, right."
Maureen looked up at Lake, who took ten seconds to push his food around and three minutes to eat a single vegetable, and asked casually, "I heard you got a new partner as soon as you returned to work? And she's a beauty?"
Lake raised his eyebrows.
"All right!"
Lake put down his fork and looked at his girlfriend, Maureen, sitting across from him. "Who told you? Montgomery or Esposito?"
Those big mouths.
It had only been six o'clock. The incident had happened at three in the afternoon, so the entire precinct probably already knew.
Maureen smiled. "Your Major Crimes Division is an important department in the precinct, bar none. What happens on your floor is the hardest to keep secret. I heard it from Olivia."
Olivia.
Her full name was Olivia Liv Moore. She was from Baltimore and worked as an autopsy examiner in Group Three of the New York Medical Examiner's Office. Most of the bodies from Lake's cases were dissected by Olivia.
Those big mouths.
Lake shook his head. "Joe Martinez is already married. Besides, she isn't my partner. She's in George's group. But George's operation is about to close in, and adding someone at this point wouldn't be good. That's why Montgomery asked her to work with me temporarily, so I could train her. Once the case on hand is over, she'll be transferred to Group One. You know me. I like handling cases alone."
Maureen hummed. "So you've caught the attention of the Internal Affairs Division."
Lake shrugged without saying anything.
Maureen crossed her hands, her eyes flickering. "The effects of that operation still haven't faded? You should know that handling a case independently feels good, but it's dangerous."
Lake smiled. "I'll avoid the danger."
With an SSR-level Immortal Body blessing.
Who could kill me?
Who could grant me death?
Ha!
After dinner.
Maureen's phone rang. She glanced at the incoming number, sighed, and then walked somewhat unwillingly over to the balcony to answer it.
Lake looked at his girlfriend on the balcony and smiled.
Needless to say.
It was definitely another call from her family.
His girlfriend, Maureen Hand, was from New Rochelle and the only college graduate in her family. She was practically the pride of the Hand family.
Maureen had an older brother and an older sister.
However...
Their different educations had led to differences between Maureen and her brother in their outlook on life. Thus, although they lived in separate places, whenever her brother was arrested by the local police for getting into trouble, her family would always ask Maureen to help.
Of course.
That was what Maureen herself had told him.
Although the surname Hand sounded somewhat familiar, Lake wasn't the kind of person who would investigate his girlfriend in depth just because he was dating her. That was something only a control freak would do.
Lake watched his girlfriend on the balcony gesturing with both hands while holding the phone. He smiled, figuring the call would probably last more than half an hour, then grabbed the case files he had brought home from the precinct and headed upstairs to the study.
In the study.
Lake rubbed his brow, turned on the computer, and took a specially made USB drive from a nearby drawer equipped with fingerprint encryption.
Two English letters were written on the USB drive.
MD!
An abbreviation for The Continental Hotel.
This USB drive was the identification code assassins used to log into The Continental Hotel. Each person had one, and only with this USB drive could they log in correctly and accept missions on The Continental Hotel's Bounty Network.
Login.
Lake checked the latest bounty missions. After looking through them, he found nothing particularly easy, so he simply closed it again.
Lake was a freelance assassin for The Continental Hotel. He belonged to no organization, so after accepting a mission, he had to handle all the intelligence work himself or pay The Continental Hotel in gold coins to obtain it.
Lake had no money.
And there was no need to spend any right now.
After all...
Lake currently had a case to solve.
PS: Olivia Liv Moore—from iZombie
PS: The Continental Hotel organization—from John Wick
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