24

Chapter 24: The Deal with the Red Devils

"The information about the Brotherhood, as well as the architectural drawings of the textile factory, have been sent to your overseas mailbox."

"Thanks!"

"My dear friend, can I ask why you want to attack the Brotherhood? Of course, if you don't want to answer, that's fine. You dealing with them is convenient for me too, as I have a stake in it."

Locke stood on the balcony, listening to the iconic laughter of the Red Devil on the other end of the phone, a slight smile playing on his lips. "They're courting death. Is that reason enough?"

"Absolutely!"

The Red Devil, somewhere savoring his meal, laughed heartily. "I've seen the news in New York."

"Oh, what did you see?"

"Haha, it's a secret, my dear friend."

Locke didn't respond.

He had to admit, the Red Devil's laughter might be amusing from a third-party perspective, but directly facing it made one feel a bit uneasy.

But...

He couldn't afford to be paranoid.

Finding a reliable intelligence supplier is challenging, especially one who knows the ropes.

Unlike that one in Texas.

MMP.

Just as Locke was about to move to New York, the guy thought he could threaten him. The outcome was self-explanatory.

Locke never accepts threats.

After a while, the Red Devil stopped laughing, wiped his lips with a napkin, and got up from someone else's dining chair. "When the goods arrive, send a message, and I'll have someone come over to get them."

"Don't forget your half a million!"

"Happy cooperation, my friend!"

"Likewise."

Listening to the dial tone, the Red Devil laughed and handed the phone to his associate, Dumby, who was armed. He then tilted his head and stared at a man kneeling before him.

The next moment, gunshots rang out.

Locke hung up the phone promptly.

He had just completed a straightforward transaction.

Simply put, tomorrow was Monday, a working day.

The day before yesterday, Locke had planned to deal with the Brotherhood on Monday and had asked the Red Devil for the textile factory's blueprints.

Considering the original plot, the old black slave had a secret escape route.

Time was tight, and Locke didn't want to steal the construction blueprints from New York City.

But Locke wasn't waiting idly. He aimed for a complete operation on a working day.

When Locke inquired about the sales associate with the Red Devil, he received a call directly from the Red Devil.

Initially, Locke was surprised.

Except for the first contact, he usually dealt with the Red Devil's associates for information transactions.

Simple information trades were below the Red Devil's direct involvement.

But Locke had a suspicion.

Information from any dealer isn't conjured out of thin air, especially from the Red Devil.

For a somewhat well-known killer organization in New York City, and even globally, the most valuable asset for an intelligence dealer is the ledger of the killer organization.

A ledger recording real customer names.

However...

The Brotherhood had been around for a while, but the old black slave's front of public welfare for contract killing should only span about ten years.

After talking to the Red Devil, Locke found his guess half right.

The Red Devil wanted the ledger but not entirely.

As the Red Devil explained, a six-year-old killer organization's ledger is worth more than half a million dollars.

The Red Devil's offer of half a million was just for one specific page in that ledger.

The Red Devil even told Locke which page, including where the ledger was kept in the textile factory.

Classic Red Devil.

Locke was unsurprised upon hearing the news. This was the Red Devil, after all.

And Locke wasn't interested in that specific page.

Someone else's money could solve their problems.

As a professional killer, Locke adhered to this principle.

No questions asked, just the price.

Besides...

Having seen four seasons of "Blacklist," Locke could guess the page's contents—it probably related to the Red Devil's true identity.

He didn't need to pry.

Locke feared no one but disliked unnecessary trouble that could disrupt his tasks or delay his plans.

Since the Red Devil made an offer, he'd hand it over.

The customer is king.

Locke returned to his study, opened his overseas mailbox, and saw the email from the Red Devil's associate, titled "I am not a Red Devil."

He opened it.

Inside were the Brotherhood's roster and the textile factory's architectural drawings, including details on modifications made over time.

"As expected of the Red Devil," Locke mused, impressed. "A formidable figure in the criminal underworld."

Locke's own title of "Unparalleled" was self-appointed, but the Red Devil's title of "Gatekeeper of the Underworld" was universally acknowledged.

There was no comparison.

Studying the textile factory's blueprint, Locke licked his lips. With this information, it wouldn't be hard to deal with the Brotherhood tomorrow.

Ring! Ring!

Locke picked up his phone, noting the caller ID, and raised his eyebrows.

"Gwen?"

After answering, he asked curiously, "It's late. Haven't you gone to bed?"

It was nearly midnight.

Gwen, lying in bed, smiled and put away her books. "Are you taking the bus or driving to school tomorrow?"

Locke was slightly taken aback. "Does the school bus pass through Fifth Avenue?"

How could he not know?

Even after his car was first scrapped, he had taken taxis to school in luxury.

But even if there was a bus, Locke preferred driving himself.

Gwen smiled. "It does, but if you're driving, we can go together. Remember, I got my driver's license?"

Locke said, "I went with you, of course I remember, but I might be a bit late tomorrow."

"What?"

"Well, I need to get the certificate for the house in the Star Building, but it shouldn't take too long."

The textile factory opens at six.

In and out.

The battle should be over in an hour, around seven, then head back, get the certificate, and make it to school before the first class at eight-thirty.

Gwen, surprised for a moment, sighed. "Well, I hoped you could sit next to me and remind me."

Locke smiled, then asked curiously, "Didn't George say he'd accompany you on your first drive?"

"Dad's working overtime!"

"All right."

Gwen smiled, reassured him it was okay, and added, "Dad just left. He said he's going to court to apply for a search warrant, otherwise he won't make it in time for tomorrow's operation."

Locke: "..."

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