Chapter 42: Bahamas

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Science… in a world with magic, science could at times feel so pointless, but if the Game agreed that it was a skill worth having, then it was something to work on. Harry waved it away and turned back to his book.

"Boy, I better not hear from Petunia that you reached home late," Vernon growled at Harry as he walked out of the Grunnings' main premises and into the small sea of warehouses and production buildings that surrounded them.

Harry didn't care. He had a man to follow and a mission to complete.

A couple of days prior to that fateful day, Mr. Grunnings had paid a courtesy visit to the Dursleys' home, bringing with him some expensive wine and a can of caviar the Dursleys could barely conceive of affording.

Harry, of course, had been locked in his bedroom beforehand, but Mr. Grunnings had insisted on a complete house tour of his 'favorite' employee, and the Dursleys had been forced to reveal the existence of their abnormal little nephew.

The fat greasy man had bent down, grinning at Harry as he offered him a hand. Prompted by Vernon's furious miming from behind his guest, Harry had shaken his hand, accidentally pressing a little harder than he'd intended to.

"Ohho!" Mr. Grunnings had exclaimed, getting onto his feet, "Your nephew has the handshake of a man Vernon. Tell me, young man, have you ever had any interests in drills and construction equipment as such?"

Harry started to shake his head, but seeing Vernon turn redder than a tomato, he quickly turned his shake into a nod. Grunnings could barely seem to contain himself.

"Well! Then it is settled! You, young man, simply must come and see our facilities tomorrow."

And settled it was. No matter how much Vernon had tried to protest, Grunnings had been set on Harry going to visit their factory, and after he'd Observed the man, so was Harry.

Winston Grunnings

Lv-28

HP-4000/4000

Race-Muggle

Str-25

Vit-13

Dex-6

Int-14

Wis-8

Luc-13

Degenerate human trafficker and owner of a drilling firm called Grunnings', Winston is a major player in a multi-million-pound criminal enterprise. He has been known to have an unhealthy obsession with extremely underage girls and wishes to close his last deal tomorrow and retire to the Bahamas.

Then and there, Harry hadn't gotten a quest alert, but he had decided on stopping him anyway. Besides, it even made sense from a pragmatic point of view, because so far, the one noticeable trend he had found in all of wizardkind was that wizards tended to be extremely physically weak, probably because they tended to use magic for all their activities.

If they were all like that, then if he somehow got close enough to one, he could take down one even twice his level. Missions like these were perfect for growing his physical stats.

And so he had gone to Grunnings' the next day, trying to get as much information as he could about where the deal was happening.

But no matter how much he tried to Observe and find out more things about that last deal, he couldn't find anything. So he'd resorted to his last tactic. Following Grunnings around until something popped up.

As it turned out, it just had.

Disappearing from Vernon's gaze into a space between two warehouses, Harry quickly shimmied up onto the roof of a warehouse along a pipe.

Once he found a high enough vantage point, a quick sweeping gaze of the area with Gamer's Mind immediately found Grunnings entering one of the older, more debilitated looking production buildings.

It was a fairly large one with five floors and a skylight on the roof. More suspiciously though, it had a very buff looking guard armed with a gun guarding the front door.

Quickly apparating onto the roof of that building, Harry found an open skylight and leaned in to assess what was going on just as Grunnings walked into the room.

A pair of chairs stood in the middle of the room, on one of which Grunnings sat down, and on the other sat a thin man in a pinstriped suit holding a briefcase.

Harry had a simple plan. He'd wait till they brought out some sort incriminating enough evidence that the police could use to put them away, then disable them and leave them tied up with the evidence in front of a police station so that the police could do their job. All in all, the situation that night would have been a lot less painful for those involved had they not dragged out the girl.

She looked about 16 and was barely dressed in her tattered clothes. Her face was sunken, her limbs were rickety, and the way she flinched whenever one of the fat man's bodyguard moved did not bode well for how she'd been treated by them.

For a fraction of a second, Harry saw red and Gamer's Mind wavered, but it recovered near instantly, shielding Harry from his instinctive rage. He paused.

He knew he had to do something, but he couldn't charge in fireballing. Each and every one of those goons and thugs had a gun. It was best to first listen to what they were saying.

"So has your friend in the mask terrified you so much that feel the need to do your deals halfway across the world now? I didn't think kingpins of criminal empires were that easily scared by masked costume fetishists," Grunnings said with a smirk.

"Don't be idiotic Mr. Grunnings. We are here trying to shake the tails Interpol has been sending. Tails that found their leads thanks to leaks in your organization.

And I would advise you against so flippantly addressing my employer. He doesn't like being spoken about in that tone." the man in the suit said, his voice cold as steel.

"Well, he isn't here now, is he? And why doesn't he try to arrange a distraction for all of his managers at the same time? Does he realize how humiliating it is to have kids swarming all over his building in the name of 'work visit day'?" Grunnings shot back.

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