"What? A message for me?"
When Li Jie reached the Police Department's front desk, the officer on duty pushed a sticky note toward him. "He called the main line. I asked what he wanted, and he said, 'Tell him it's about this afternoon's meal.' Then he hung up."
Huh? The restaurant owner tracked me down already?
Li Jie examined the note. All it contained was a crooked string of numbers, with no name, greeting, or heading. The number had a strange format, looking like neither a cell number nor a landline, with several unfamiliar area-code prefixes mixed in.
"Tsk, tsk... You'd better work on your handwriting."
He nodded to the officer, folded the paper and pocketed it, then walked to the water cooler at the end of the hallway. Taking out his phone, he dialed the number.
The line was silent for several seconds. Then came a soft click, as though some recording device had been activated. He waited, but no "Hello" or "Hi" came-only slow breathing, compressed by a voice changer into a hoarse, metallic rasp.
"Sheriff, there's a job for you. You can take it or leave it."
"It's you?"
The voice sounded like someone speaking inside a sealed iron can. It ignored Li Jie's question and continued.
"I can tell you only two things. First, the man who hired Deathstroke is named Vandal Savage. Second, his base is in the swamps of Loisiana, near a branching point of the Mississippi River. I can't be sure that's everything he owns, but it's enough for you to find him."
"Heh."
Li Jie chuckled twice. "Why should I believe you? You're the one who attacked-"
"I have my reasons for what I do. And I'll give you a reason, too. One you can't refuse."
The voice paused for two seconds,