Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 405 - 243: Yo, Armored Vehicle (Supplement)

Chapter 405: Chapter 243: Yo, Armored Vehicle (Supplement)

Brother’s car was parked in the parking lot of the logistics company.

On the way to the bar, Brian also witnessed the bustling life of this place.

Here, one could see many iconic buildings from abroad, such as the Eiffel Tower and the like; Brian even saw a building that imitated the city towers of Hua Country, though he had no idea what it was used for.

The streets were also filled with pedestrians, unlike the desolation of most areas at night.

Dazzling lights in every color lit up everywhere.

This city knew what true glitz and glamour were.

Sightseeing along the way.

The car arrived at a bar located in a residential area.

The name of the bar was quite common, called Daddy’s Bar.

Bars liked by veteran drivers were always good sources of information.

Many of the guests here were also drivers.

With the lead of brother, Brian easily got acquainted with many well-informed truck and taxi drivers and successfully gathered some information on the target, Sudan.

Ordinary people might not pay attention to such public figures’ information.

But they were different.

They often listened to the radio, and sometimes they even sold exclusive news to the media to make some extra cash. Plus, they liked to sit together and gripe, so they were more sensitive to these things.

Having turned his new acquaintances.

Burping from the alcohol, Brian paid the bill and staggered out of the niche bar.

When he appeared again, he had changed into casual clothes and came to a hotel called Sudanville.

On the lower level of the hotel was a casino.

Hotel plus casino was a standard setup around here.

By this time it was past nine in the evening, and the casino was still crowded.

Most of them, in fact, were tourists from the surrounding areas, and some were international visitors; locals were quite rare.

Brian had never been to such a place before.

When he stepped into the casino, he almost thought he was on the streets in daylight.

The ceiling decor was clearly specially designed, displaying the blues and whites of the sky, with soft lighting and artificial natural light that passed through a row of slot machines into some recreational venues.

There were coffee shops placed along the roadside, public benches for the streets.

And food stalls as well.

If you stayed here for long without checking your phone, you might even get the illusion that you couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

Such an environment was specially designed for gamblers.

There were many types of entertainment venues here as well.

One could imagine, even if someone won money at the casino, as long as they didn’t leave immediately, that money would eventually be spent on one luxurious pursuit after another.

A cut from the gambling tables, a cut from the entertainment venues, this place truly lived up to the saying: "Earn at the casino, spend at the casino — not a dime taken home."

..

After making the rounds.

Brian left the hotel and sat down on a bench on the street outside, waiting for his prey to show up.

According to the information he’d received.

The target Sudan was an ambitious businesswoman who carved out the persona of a charitable businesswoman. Every day she would come here with her accountant to check the books and then leave.

Probably to reinforce her public persona, there were often reporters capturing images of her busy until the wee hours of the morning.

This saved Brian a lot of trouble.

Time ticked away.

During this time, two call girls approached Brian to ask if he wanted to have a wonderful night; for just two hundred US dollars, he could go to their place for some fun.

Actually, these weren’t really prostitutes but the "Immortal Trick."

Ordinary people looking for such services here would either need a local to take them to some community streets or find them in hotels, where someone would call to inquire if they needed services.

Both were relatively safe.

As for these, they weren’t the "Immortal Trick," they’d lead you to various consumer trap games.

They targeted unsuspecting tourists, skirting the edge of the law, and even if you called the police afterwards, it would be futile.

In the midst of this, Brian encountered a gay man and several unknown people hitting on him.

This frustrated Brian.

If it weren’t for the underdeveloped intelligence, he wouldn’t need to wait so miserably and could have gone straight for the kill.

"The more glamorous the place, the dirtier the secrets it hides..."

Brian lit a cigarette, pondering how to create a dedicated intelligence system for his personal use.

His hastily-constructed Urban Legend Organization actually had this idea in mind, but with few people and a lack of professionals to lead, it didn’t even have a framework yet.

Time passed.

Not until after eleven o’clock at night.

When the streets had far fewer people, a hefty sedan guarded by vehicles in front and behind, slowly drove from the hotel’s driveway towards the main road.

Brian cracked his neck.

He was finally here!

...

He was just about to get up when someone nearby moved faster.

Not far away, a man and a woman at a street corner table, savoring sweet treats and coffee and chatting, took out a camera and such, blatantly aiming at the motorcade to take photos.

Seeing this, the lead guard vehicle didn’t react at all, continuing to drive forward, even deliberately slowing down.

Seeing this, Brian smirked.

These two were probably arranged by Sudan.

It seemed the bar crowd was right; Sudan did indeed enjoy creating her own image on this front. There were often reporters and passersby capturing her itinerary for local TV and websites.

This constant media bombardment might not be effective in a day or two, but over time, it would subtly shift the public’s perception of Sudan, molding the persona into what they believe to be the ’real’ person.