Chapter 61: Do You Want to Be a Hero?

Murphy obtained the name "Orson Savage" and an address from the thug before the thug fled in terror.

To Murphy's surprise, the man on the ground, who had been beaten, was a robust and tall individual, and he was holding a small cat in his arms.

Was this man beaten just to protect his cat? A cat lover with a physique like Schwarzenegger's?

"Orson is just a small fry," the man suddenly spoke. "He's not the worst scoundrel in this area."

"Oh?"

Murphy hadn't expected to get any useful leads from a thug initially. He just planned to trace his way to the worst criminal step by step. However, it seemed this guy knew something more.

"Then who is the worst?"

The man with the cat, however, didn't reply. He just shook his head and walked away, limping slightly.

Murphy rolled his eyes and cast a spell, "Legilimens!"

After a moment, Murphy gasped in shock.

Wow, this guy's past is quite something.

Boris Bishkov.

Born in the East End, his father was a member of a Russian mob, and his mother a prostitute. Against all odds, he didn't succumb to his environment. Using his intelligence, he got into Cambridge and became a chartered accountant.

But he was too dedicated. While auditing a large company's financial report, he discovered significant fraud. Instead of signing off on the audit report, he submitted the evidence to the authorities.

What he didn't know was that the company's investor was a drug lord, and many of the company's operations were just a front for money laundering.

Eventually, the drug lord used a few scapegoats to take the fall and colluded with the accounting firm to frame Boris for producing false reports, leaving him bankrupt and in debt.

When he was on the streets, the drug lord had someone beat him up, breaking his legs.

"If he hadn't been strong, he would have died."

"So, the real bad guy is Isaac Milburn?"

"What did you just do?"

Boris was horrified, feeling his memories being browsed like flipping through a book. This man seemed like a devil out of legend.

"Do you want revenge?" Murphy looked at his muscular arms. "Working out is a good idea, but you're just a cripple. With that alone, you can't hope to get revenge."

Boris's initial shock faded, but he shook his head, "No. I don't want revenge."

He continued to walk away, holding his cat.

Murphy was puzzled; he hadn't probed deeper into Boris's mind to avoid causing damage. But he did feel intense anger in Boris's memories, which contrasted starkly with his current resigned demeanor.

An interesting person.

...

Unaware of when the strange youth had disappeared, Boris, who initially wanted to warn him about Isaac, eventually shook his head and walked away with his cat.

He passed two blocks, gave his last two crumpled banknotes to an old homeless man, and then knocked on the door of an old apartment building. It was opened by an elderly woman, to whom he handed the cat.

The cat wasn't his.

After a long conversation with Mrs. Hampton, his landlady who had a good relationship with him, Boris returned to his tiny, single-room apartment, meticulously clean but furnished with old equipment.

He ate a simple meal and began to exercise. Without any equipment, he relied on push-ups, pull-ups, and squats.

His injured leg made squatting difficult, but he persisted through over thirty reps.

Then, he opened a closet.

Pushing aside a few shirts, he revealed a wall of newspaper clippings.

The clippings were about two things: the whereabouts of Milburn Trading Company's CEO and investigations into several girls' disappearances. At the center of these clippings was a 19-year-old girl named Marianne Hampton.

"I see."

Boris jumped as a voice suddenly spoke behind him. Turning, he saw the strange youth from before standing in his room.

"Marianne, a beautiful girl. Your girlfriend?"

"How did you..."

Boris was shocked. How had this person entered his room?

"Are you human or a ghost?"

"Whether I'm human or a ghost isn't important. What's important is who you are and what you want to do."

After a moment of silence, Boris sighed, "Marianne is my sister."

"My mother gave birth to her and left her with Mrs. Hampton, my landlady. She's actually my grandmother, but she doesn't know. I only met Marianne a few times. She was bright and innocent. When I told her we were siblings, she was thrilled. She said she always felt lonely, and having a brother felt great."

"I felt the same."

"Two months ago, when I was framed and indebted, Marianne had disappeared."

"I investigated for a long time before finding clues that she might have been trafficked abroad, or worse, dead."

Murphy glanced at the clippings, "So, Isaac Milburn did it?"

"Yes, he's the biggest gang leader in the East End. He deals in drugs, murder, and human trafficking. I have good reason to suspect him. Those other missing girls are also related to him. I have some evidence, but not enough to convict him. Many people are on his payroll, and few prosecutors or lawyers dare oppose him."

"So, you plan to take revenge yourself?"

Boris fell silent before answering, "At least, I want to know Marianne's whereabouts."

"But in your current state, you'll probably get shot as soon as you step into his territory."

Boris deflated, "You're right. I've tracked his movements and made many plans, but none can succeed. He's cautious and always surrounded by a dozen bodyguards. I can't get close."

Looking at Murphy, he pleaded, "Can you help me? With your abilities, it should be easy to gather evidence!"

"I beg you, help me. Whether you're a superhero, an alien, or even a devil, please help me. I need to find Marianne. If she's alive, I must rescue her. If she's dead... I want to avenge her!"

Murphy smiled, "Guess what, you're in luck."

"But it's no fun letting someone else do the job." Murphy said, pulling out a test tube.

"Do you want to be a hero?"