Chapter 41: Connecting the Clues

Based on the current clues, the hooked-nose man should be employed at some clinic or hospital.

He oversees the collection of Giants, secretly colluding with Vulture to sell them and profit.

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What Roger didn't know was why all these Giants had their organs removed.

Was it for some kind of experiment? Or did it involve illegal organ trafficking?

And whether this was a coordinated corporate operation or the solo act of some criminal gang remained unknown.

Roger felt his mind was full of fog.

After thinking it over, he decided that if he wanted answers, he had to start with the thickest thread.

……

"Hey, Vulture, I've already sold the goods."

The next afternoon, after receiving payment from the female journalist, Roger immediately called Vulture.

"So fast!" Vulture praised over the phone: "Great job, buddy, if Aodisi had half your speed, he'd be golden."

"Should I come to your place now?"

"Come on, buddy, I'm calling a few girls over—let's throw a party to celebrate!"

Vulture clearly lived for the moment and had no notion of saving money.

After Roger arrived in his pickup truck, Vulture's so-called girls hadn't yet arrived, and the house was a bit cleaner than before.

But it was only the trash that had been cleared away.

If nothing changed, by tomorrow morning it would be a dump again.

"Come sit down, buddy!" Vulture was using small tools to separate clumps of white powder.

"Stimulant?" Roger's memory of this stuff was vivid.

In Meilijian, whether in college, high school, or below, there were plenty who were addicted to it.

Put it this way: ask ten children under ten, and at least one will tell you.

Some kid kings weren't satisfied just using it themselves—they became distributors.

Vulture nodded at his words: "Want a hit?"

"Nah," Roger gave a pained expression: "The buyer's waiting for me to deliver—can't get arrested right now."

Vulture urged: "One hit won't hurt—go have your fun first, then go deliver."

"Buddy, I don't have your self-control," Roger sneered: "Every time I get high, I sleep straight through till morning—way too disruptive."

This was pure fabrication, but thanks to his Camouflage skill, he performed it flawlessly—the convulsing throat and drooling gaze made Vulture instantly recognize a fellow user.

"Alright then." Since it involved a transaction, Vulture let it go.

Roger handed over the dollars: "This is the first installment—one thousand dollars. The rest after I complete the deal."

"Ha, good business!" Vulture took the cash and shoved it straight into his pocket.

While waiting for the others to arrive, Roger opened a can of cola: "Say, don't we have any other channels? What if Hook-nose cuts off supply—how do we make money?"

"You think I don't want other channels?" Vulture sighed at the topic: "But stable sources like Hook-nose are rare—most are one-time deals."

"I once contacted a guy at a funeral home, but they had too much product—I couldn't handle it!"

"How much?" Roger asked curiously.

Vulture held up five fingers: "Five per day."

"Five per day? That's a hundred and fifty a month?" Roger's eyes widened—this wasn't a funeral home, this was a Giant transit hub!

"Exactly. With just us, we can't meet their demand."

Vulture frowned: "If I had five guys like you, I'd take the contract without hesitation."

Roger pondered: "So how many does Hook-nose supply per month?"

"Sometimes four or five, sometimes seven or eight," Vulture replied, packing the separated powder into bags.

Compared to the funeral home, it was negligible.

"Is it always this steady? Never any hiccups?" Roger probed subtly.

Vulture frowned: "Hiccups? What hiccups?"

Roger added: "I mean, Hook-nose is doing this behind the scenes—doesn't his boss ever find out?"

"Ah, got it!" Vulture grinned, stowing the small bag: "According to him, he's been caught more than once—but each time he paid off the problem and used it to demand higher prices from me."

"Except once." Vulture sneered: "I remember it was half a month ago—he'd arranged a deal, then stood me up."

"Why?"

"Because he saw police cars patrolling everywhere, got scared, and disposed of the goods himself."

"How did he dispose of them alone?"

"Who knows? Maybe he dumped them in the river. That coward—he swore his car wouldn't get stopped by cops."

Hearing this, Roger immediately connected the floating Giant corpse in the Du Wa Mi Shi He with the garage chainsaw killer.

"So that's how it was."

He suddenly understood.

At that moment, footsteps and women's laughter suddenly sounded outside the door.

"Oh yeah, my girls and buddies are here—wanna join us?"

"Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!" Roger's phone suddenly rang.

"Sorry," he feigned regret: "The buyer's pushing me."

"Then go deliver fast—come back after! My door's always open to you!"

After bidding farewell to Vulture, Roger stepped out of the house and answered the call.

On the other end of the phone, Vanessa asked, "Any new leads?"

"I think I know what happened to that corpse from the Du Wa Mi Shi He."

He scanned the area, quietly returned to the pickup's driver's seat, and relayed the information he had just learned.

"God, so that's how it is," Vanessa cursed. "Those damn bastards will burn in hell."

"By the way, using the license plate you provided, the police have located the car of the hook-nosed man in the surveillance footage—they should soon uncover his true identity."

"That's good news indeed."

Roger exhaled in relief; he had been deeply involved in these events for days, leaving his mental state tense.

But if they could take down this guy and everyone behind him, it would count as a meritorious deed.

And he would also receive a certain reward.

As for whether the police could dismantle this high-level illegal trafficking network?

Don't make me laugh.

Even God would have to watch helplessly as his own corpse on Earth was turned into a collectible for Meilijian's elites!