Super Detective in the Fictional World

Chapter 864: An Old Friend at No. 17 Textile Mill

At that moment, it was already 9pm. The sky was completely dark, and a light drizzle fell, adding a slight chill to the autumn night.

Luke drove northwest until he reached a small river that flowed into the Hackensack River, one of the main rivers in New Jersey.

Next to the river, there was a faint light in an old castle-like building.

Luke stopped the car two kilometers away and took out a medium-sized drone.

Looking at the metal sign which read No. 17 Textile Mill on the gate and the guards everywhere inside, Luke smiled and said, “It seems this is the right place. Nice to meet you, Fraternity.”

With a thought, all his V equipment disappeared, and the Big Dipper Armor appeared in his hands.

Luke quickly on the Big Dipper Armor, and then ran forward, turning into a transparent shadow in the misty night.

There were no surveillance cameras in the factory, for the sake of keeping things secret.

This bunch was in the business of killing people, and it wasn’t a good idea to record their criminal activity on tape.

These people all had outstanding strength, and they trusted their own abilities more than electronic equipment.

Luke’s shadow figure entered the building through a loading bay, right under the nose of the guards.

The factory was still busy.

The sound of the textile machines made the place noisy as workers moved materials and finished products.

It was indeed a textile mill.

The textiles it produced were said to have originated in Europe a thousand years ago.

They were rare and of excellent quality, and were a luxury that many people of the upper class and church priests liked to use.

Wasn’t it good to do this sort of honest business with good prospects? Why was there a need to go out and kill people?!

As Luke criticized the Fraternity inwardly, he carefully avoided the busy workers.

They seemed to have better physiques and movements than ordinary people.

These people were at the bottom of the Fraternity’s ladder. They did the odd jobs for the middle and high levels, and were a necessary existence in order to maintain the textile mill’s facade.

Before they were promoted as famous hitmen, most of them had to undergo training here as their restless minds were tempered by the dry and onerous physical labor.

Rebecca and Bloodmint had once worked as spinners or weavers here for a long time.

Standing in a corner for a moment, Luke shook the water off his armor and jumped up, grabbed the edge of the second floor, and headed for his destination.

None of the workers on the bottom floor noticed him moving quietly above their heads.

Making his way through the factory, Luke chose a dark corner.

Standing in the shadows, he scanned the second floor and activated Sharp Nose to search for his target.

Soon, he moved again and entered a hallway not far away.

When he reached a door, his expression changed, and he jumped and propped himself up with hands and feets on both sides of the hallway.

The door opened at that moment, and an old man walked out.

In the doorway, he paused and looked around suspiciously.

Except for the faint roar of the machines, however, he didn’t notice anything.

“I’m old and jumping at ghosts,” he murmured to himself as he walked toward the back of the building.

Above the door, Luke looked at the old man thoughtfully. He was certain that this old man with sharp senses was the current leader of the Fraternity, and the person Rebecca and Bloodmint feared the most — Sloan.

Nobody knew what Sloan’s real name was.

But judging from his codename, Sloan, his dream was to be rich.

Given the color of his skin, however, he couldn’t become a rich young master back then in his youth.

Luke didn’t follow Sloan. Instead, he opened the door and walked in.

Looking around the room, Luke felt helpless. It was exactly as Rebecca had said.

Bookshelves and old wooden filing cabinets lined the walls.

But there wasn’t even a computer here. There was only an old typewriter.

Without a computer, that meant that the files here were in the form of paper records, which couldn’t be copied quickly.

But Luke was already here for the Fraternity’s secret files, and couldn’t just leave.

He quickly searched the room, but didn’t find the information he wanted.

That sly old fox hadn’t put something like that in this office-like room.

As expected, it wouldn’t be easy.

Without further ado, Luke left the room.

Luke walked through the hallway that Sloan had taken earlier, and he reached a hall where several people were standing around a young man and Sloan, as if they were watching a show.

The young man’s face was red. He seemed to be holding something in one hand and waving a gun around with the other. “Get out of the way. Don’t come over. I have a gun. See that? I have a gun.”

Some of the people watching were indifferent, some had their arms crossed, and some had mocking faces.

The young man yelled and ran out of the hall in a panic.

The people below watched the young man run away without any intention of stopping him.

After the young man ran out of the factory, a brown-haired woman with big eyes asked Sloan, “Are we just going to wait for him like this?”

After a brief silence, Sloan nodded. “He’ll come back. At least the money’s real.”

He then turned around and returned to his office.

Everybody looked at each other before they left.

Watching everything, Luke didn’t move as he used the armor’s support system to record the appearances of these people.

Actually, from the moment he entered the factory, every person he saw was recorded by the support system.

In case he couldn’t find a detailed list of Fraternity members, he would use this record as a substitute.

It was easy for Luke to kill Sloan; he could even wipe out the mid- and high-level members of the Fraternity who had gathered together earlier.

But that wasn’t the best choice.

According to Rebecca and Bloodmint, the Fraternity claimed to be an ancient organization that had existed for thousands of years.

Luke didn’t know how much of it was hot air.

He felt that it was probably like the 1982 Lafite that was actually produced in 2018 — a fake wrapped up in pretty packaging.

However, a search of the Fraternity’s history revealed that it was still at least more than fifty years old.

An organization that had been operating diligently and hiding their strength for fifty years, and which had at least two hundred people, wouldn’t be simple.

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