Someone Was in for Trouble

Several police cars and media vehicles were parked outside the Gershwin Theatre, where television reporters were describing the shooting that had just occurred to their cameras.

The police investigating the scene blocked the reporters' probing questions with practiced formality, stating that there had been no casualties other than one suspect who had died.

The manager of the Gershwin Theatre was equally unruffled, calmly stating that the shooting had merely been a security guard's gun accidentally discharging in his sleep and would have no negative impact on the theatre's operations.

The theatre had already called in renovation workers. Those cheap, handy Mexican immigrants would crawl out of bed in half an hour and drive over with their materials.

Before dawn, the bullet holes in the theatre's second-floor walls would be patched up. As for the blood on the floor, it had long since been mopped away.

A shooting? When did America ever go a day without a few dozen? It was a country with the freedom to bear arms, after all. Perfectly normal.

Inside the cordoned-off scene, Doyle, a street fixer and police informant, watched the theatre security guard being put into a body bag with no small amount of regret.

"What a shame. Now I'll have to find someone else to make introductions if I want to sell contraband in the theatre, and pay an extra fee."

The short, stout Doyle pursed his lips. He approached a police officer he knew and asked about the details. "What exactly happened? Don't tell me he really dozed off on duty and accidentally fired his gun."

The local officer handling the case shrugged. "God knows what happened. Maybe he got high, started hallucinating, and fired wildly without knowing what he was doing."

Ah... drugs. Drugs again.

America's most insoluble problems were drugs and guns.

Many Americans came into contact with both in their teens, then became walking time bombs that might go off at any moment.

Doyle wished everyone in New York would buy his illegal drugs. But he also knew that once people started using, their brains would be ruined sooner or later.

"But... Nissen was a decent guy. He didn't do drugs," Doyle told the officer. "The guy was just a little greedy and occasionally did some dirty work for me. He had no other bad habits."

The local officer snorted. "They might send the body for a drug test later. I bet he won't pass. Want to bet me a hundred dollars?"

To the New York police, this sort of nonsensical shooting had to be connected to drugs, because there were simply too many similar cases.

People whose minds were muddled by drugs either hurt themselves or hurt others. There was no bottom line.

After a few pointed questions from the officer, Doyle stopped insisting. Instead, he left the theatre, planning to find some fun nearby to unwind.

"Where's that food truck I ran into on 50th Street last night? Running a food truck in New York makes good money. They have to pay protection money."

Doyle walked a few hundred meters but did not find the food truck staffed by Adrian and his wife in yesterday's spot-the couple had moved elsewhere after last night's scare.

"Ran away?" Doyle scanned the neon-lit street with disdain. "Where can you run? Unless you stop coming out to make money."

A dozen or so meters away, out of Doyle's sight, Lin Rui stared coldly at his back as he looked around, then finally gave up on following him any farther.

Andrea drove over from nearby and stopped beside Lin Rui, asking with a smile, "Leon, have you taken a fancy to some girl? You looked pretty absorbed."

"I was looking at you." Lin Rui smiled. The line was cheesy, but he was handsome enough to get a laugh out of the white woman.

Andrea liked that sort of teasing very much. She reached over and gave his inner thigh a hard squeeze, saying with a show of ferocity, "Rookie, you'd better not casually tease an old hand like me, or I'll drain you dry."

The car pulled away and took Lin Rui back to the old pastor's little church.

Pastor Borg was still awake, surprisingly, and only relaxed when he saw Lin Rui return. He also asked whether business at the food truck had gone smoothly.

"Uh, there's been a little trouble." Lin Rui took something to drink from the kitchen refrigerator and sat down at the dining table. "I'm working with Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and we've also brought a Mexican couple on board to operate around the clock.

"I have to admit, we all want to make a little more money. We don't want any trouble. But sometimes trouble finds us."

Lin Rui told him about the kickback demanded at the theatre, but did not mention that he had beaten the manager's assistant who demanded it until he lost his memory.

He also told him how Adrian and his wife had been extorted for protection money by a gangster while operating in the early hours, even giving Doyle's name and describing his appearance and attitude.

Of course, he also had to mention the sudden shooting at the theatre-a night-shift security guard had "probably become mentally impaired from drugs and started shooting wildly, only to be shot dead on the spot by the responding officers."

The old pastor sighed repeatedly as he listened, then said sadly, "Leon, this has really been hard on you. Running a food truck may seem profitable, but I know the darkness you're facing must all be real.

"I have to admit, public safety in New York is nowhere near as good as one might imagine. Gangs lurk unseen, and drug overdoses have caused countless tragedies.

"That man you mentioned who collects protection money-what was his name again?"

"Doyle. He's a drug dealer. Andrea said he has a wide network and powerful connections." Lin Rui described the target he wanted to eliminate in detail.

The old pastor nodded repeatedly as he listened. "It's very late now, and you still have to go to the food truck after daybreak. Go get some sleep."

Lin Rui thought nothing of it. He washed up briefly and went to bed, without entering the Nightmare Space again that night, until his alarm woke him at six thirty in the morning.

The arrangements that followed were the same as usual. Linda would drive over after breakfast, take Lin Rui to Whole Foods to load up the "relief food" Mrs. Jones had prepared, then go relieve Adrian and his wife.

The only difference was that at eleven that morning, while Lin Rui was rushed off his feet inside the food truck, a call came through on his phone.

A serious male voice asked, "Are you Leon?"

"Yes, that's me?" The voice alone told Lin Rui this was no ordinary caller. "Who are you...?"

"I'm Agent Robin with the Drug Enforcement Administration. I hear you have a lead on a drug-dealing case you'd like to report?" the man on the phone asked.

Ah... Lin Rui froze for two or three seconds, unable to process it for a moment.

The agent on the phone continued, "The tip came through the Presbyterian Church. Do you know a pastor named Essen Borg?"

"Ah... yes." Lin Rui understood at once.

He had been wondering how to deal with the drug dealer named Doyle and complete Sophia's mission to "Punish the Henchman."

In the Nightmare Space, anyone harboring malice would be strengthened.

An ordinary fallen security guard could turn into a Tyrant. A bona fide drug dealer would surely be extremely difficult to handle.

But without using his unique abilities as a demon hunter, Lin Rui really did not know how to kill a bastard steeped in evil.

Now he suddenly cursed himself for being stupid. With such a powerful backer, why did he have to do it himself? If he ran into trouble he couldn't handle, he could just pass the problem up the chain.

"Yes, yes, I know Pastor Essen Borg. I did talk to him about a street drug dealer named Doyle. He openly sells contraband at the Gershwin Theatre."

Agent Robin asked, "Are you free right now? I need to ask you a few questions in person. It won't take long."

"I'm busy right now, running a food truck near Central Park. I'll probably have to wait until tonight..." The lunch rush was about to begin, and Lin Rui truly could not get away.

"That's fine. I happen to be hungry too. Give me the address, and I'll drive over." Agent Robin was very proactive. Once he had the address, he said, "See you soon."

Linda turned her head from behind the cash register and asked, "Who was that? What happened?"

Lin Rui hung up, shook his head in disbelief, and said with a smile, "A DEA agent. Someone's in for trouble."