Super Detective in the Fictional World

Chapter 1180: V Clears the Scene, and the Fruit of Love

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

In fact, Wade currently looked like a mutant Shar Pei dog… or a rotten avocado?

No wonder Wade remained in hiding, and only followed his girlfriend stealthily as she put up missing posters everywhere.

Using a rotten avocado to test a woman’s love really would be too much.

Pondering for a moment, Luke said, “Interested in a chat at the bar? It’s on me.”

Wade didn’t say anything as he continued looking at the balcony on the third floor.

Luke was too lazy to say much. He simply took out his phone and aimed it at the avocado.

The flash and click of the camera woke Wade up. “What are you doing?”

Luke said, “If you continue playing dead here, I’ll send your sh*tty face to your girlfriend..”

Wade said, “I was wrong. Where are we going? Right, I don’t have any money.”

Luke glanced at him disdainfully. “Of course you don’t. You stole those clothes, didn’t you?”

Wade said, “How can that be? The guy was the one who felt hot and threw them off.”

Luke said, “Tell me the truth.” He raised his phone, as if he was about to send the photo.

Wade instantly chickened out. “To be honest, the guy was getting it on with a girl in an alley, and I picked up his clothes after he took them off.”

Luke said, “Stealing is stealing. Why are you trying to save face? Well, in any case, you don’t have any face now.”

Wade: “F*ck you!”

Ten minutes later, a man in a black cloak stepped into Sister Margaret’s bar or whatever, walked unhurriedly through the crowd, sat down at the counter, tapped two fingers and said, “A beer and a fake whiskey.”

Weasel, who was sorting out the drinks in the liquor cabinet, turned his head impatiently. “I don’t sell fake… whiskey.”

He practically warbled the last word, and it trailed off on a high note. .

But nobody laughed at him.

The moment the man in the cloak entered the bar, the noisy crowd went quiet, like someone had pressed the stop button on a radio.

Luke tilted his head. “Another beer, then.”

Saying that, he turned to the room at large. “By the time I count to three, anyone who hasn’t gotten up and left won’t have to leave anymore tonight.”

As soon as he said that, there was a loud bang as 50 to 60 fierce-looking customers stood up and rushed for the door at the same time.

Outside the bar, Wade leaned against the wall and looked up at the sky, his mind wandering again.

Suddenly, there was a rumble from the bar entrance.

The next moment, the door of the bar was sent flying as a bunch of people poured out like ants.

Every now and then, a few guys would shout, “Run!”

“It’s Smiley Face.”

Stumped for a moment, Wade watched the group scatter. A moment later, he turned his head and looked at two unlucky b*stards who had been knocked unconscious in the crowd. He sighed and crouched down, and couldn’t help but stretch out both hands.

A few seconds later, cursing rang out at the front of the bar. “Assh*les, they’re actually broke.

“If you’re broke, stay home and watch TV! Why the f*ck come to a bar?”

Inside, Weasel trembled as he put down the two bottles of beer. Looking at the smiling mask in front of him, he said with a pained expression, “Your beer…”

Luke flicked his fingers, and something gold shot out at Weasel.

Weasel subconsciously caught it.

Gold! This thing was definitely gold. He was very sure of it upon first glance.

Even more so when he felt it in his hands.

He looked down, only to be horrified.

A Continental gold coin lay quietly in his palm.

At that moment, Smiley Face said unhurriedly, “Is that enough for all the drinks tonight?”

Weasel said with a sullen face, “This… can we switch to cash? Cash is fine.”

Luke chuckled. “What do you think?”

Pained, Weasel closed his eyes and threw the Continental gold coin into a drawer.

Every Continental gold coin had a verification code.

It could be traced for the most part.

Unless it was a transaction between two people, and the person who received the gold coin didn’t use it, it was impossible to hide its tracks.

Previously, Smiley Face had been surrounded by a bunch of hitmen in Swamp Park after the information was sent to Weasel’s phone.

What was even more terrifying was that none of the dozens of hitmen who had waited for the news in his bar appeared again after that; they simply disappeared.

Naturally, he sold this information to a lot of people to prove that he was just an outsider and not Smiley Face’s accomplice.

The strange thing was that there was no reaction from the Continental Hotel, as if the dead hitmen had never come at all.

A number of the mercenaries who had been in the bar earlier more or less knew about this. It was a topic of idle conversation and boasting.

It was also why these people had promptly chickened out the moment Smiley Face appeared.

Nobody wanted to piss off Smiley Face, who had made more than 60 professional veterans disappear. None of these mercenaries wanted to be the next to go missing.

Then here was the problem: Smiley Face had gotten into a fight with hitmen from the Continental Hotel, and they all went missing. Smiley Face had appeared again. So, where did his Continental gold coins come from?

Weasel was smart, and didn’t need anyone to give him a hint.

In fact, he wasn’t wrong.

Luke had found the gold coins on the hitmen.

V had kept too low a profile recently, which wasn’t good.

His clone would return to New York soon. At that time, V would be free to come out.

It was just a matter of time.

If the High Table finally came round to the idea of sending out hitmen to deal with V, didn’t that just mean more sheep to shear?

With his clone acting as the ultimate scapegoat, Luke no longer had any qualms about showing off.

There wasn’t anything wrong with him pushing for the start of the superhero era.

At that moment, Wade, who was wearing an old secondhand hoodie, walked in and sat down at the counter. He tossed a handful of cash on the counter. “The drinks are on me.”

As he spoke, he picked up a bottle of beer and gulped it down.

Even though Weasel was feeling uneasy, he couldn’t help but say, “It’s 20 dollars per bottle. You only have 27 dollars here.”

Wade didn’t think much of it. He pulled down his hood. “Cut the crap. It’s good enough that I gave you money at all.”

Hearing that, Weasel couldn’t help but be stunned, and he subconsciously cried out, “Wade? Aren’t you dead? Damn it, I bet on you in the prize pool. It’s over now.”

Wade said, “Even if your son dies, I won’t die. Oh, wait, you don’t have a son at all.”

Weasel wasn’t too bothered by his poisonous tongue. He looked at Wade’s face and frowned. “Wow, why do you look like an avocado?”

Wade touched his face carelessly. “Is it that bad?”

Weasel shook his head. “No, it’s more like an avocado was f*cked hard by an even older and uglier avocado, and you’re the fruit of their love.”

Wade didn’t take offense. His only fear was that Vanessa would think he was ugly; who cared what Weasel thought?

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