Chapter 68: The Mysterious and Brave Mr. L

"Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!"

"What is it, my big reporter?"

That evening, Roger had just returned to the garage after dinner when he received the female reporter's call.

Vanessa: "Have you read the newspaper?"

Roger: "Not yet. Did the news get published today?"

It had only been a day since the marijuana party was discovered—this female reporter was truly relentless.

At the newspaper building, Vanessa rubbed her dark circles and smiled: "Yes, I stayed up all night finishing the article. It's published today—you should read it."

"I'll read it." Roger didn't think much of it, only asked: "So has the police investigation ended?"

Vanessa replied: "The police found three home-grown plants in little Ryan's closet."

"They questioned little Ryan about it—how to put it… sigh." Vanessa sighed: "He said his parents often consumed the leaves at home, and after each use, their attitude toward him improved significantly, so he decided to grow them to please them. And the reason he stole soil from Mrs. Lloyd's yard was because his father told him that sterile soil yields better results for growing leaves."

Roger: "I see. And then?"

Vanessa: "Then the police discovered that little Ryan's parents are followers of the Lingdong Cult."

"The Lingdong Cult? What's that?"

"An outlawed illegal sect. They believe children carry original sin, identical to that of demons, and must be exorcised through whipping, verbal abuse, and cruelty."

"What the hell, people actually believe that?" Roger exclaimed.

"Of course," Vanessa explained. "Even after being banned, many still secretly worship it."

"So the police temporarily revoked their parental rights on charges of prolonged child abuse, manufacturing and consuming marijuana products, and subjecting him to constant danger."

"They say it's temporary, but I think the court will permanently strip them of parental rights."

At this, Vanessa sighed: "Thankfully we got there in time. According to the doctor, if we'd waited another half hour, little Ryan would have suffered irreversible brain damage."

"A blessing in disguise," Roger said. "I hope he finds a good family going forward."

"True. But I'm more curious about where little Ryan got the seeds," Vanessa's voice was puzzled. "His parents only bought finished products—no other seeds were found in the house."

"You mean someone sold him the seeds?"

"Exactly. I think there's much more hidden here that needs proper investigation."

"All I can say is—be careful."

"Thanks, I will."

After hanging up, Roger walked to the garage door and stared out through the window, watching the surroundings.

Since yesterday, when he and Robbie took out the Mexicans, the entire neighborhood had been unnaturally quiet, with an eerie sense of desolation.

For some reason, the Crips were far fewer than usual, and even Robbie had vanished.

Yet even if someone had been shot dead by gang members, no residents had moved away.

Clearly, the fear brought by the Execution Line outweighed the threat of gang violence.

Roger also took out his pistol and carried it with him, just in case.

After watching for a while and seeing no suspicious movement, he lay back down on the mat.

Just then, his phone rang again.

It was Zoe.

Roger leaned back on the new pillow Natasha had given him and answered the busty girl's call.

As soon as he connected, he heard Zoe's excited voice.

"Have you been playing Zorro again lately?"

"What? Why say that?" Roger was surprised she called him "Zorro."

"Of course—by reading the newspaper. The Seattle Times."

Zoe teased: "Mr. L, you told me about this last time—I've never forgotten."

Roger remembered—he had indeed mentioned his pseudonym in a conversation with Zoe before.

But why bring it up now?

"Did I make the paper again?"

Zoe exclaimed: "You didn't know?"

"Uh… I didn't read the paper today."

"Then let me read it to you. Ahem."

Zoe cleared her throat and read:

"Police confirmed that on the evening of August 26, a middle-class family in Seattle's North District was rushed to the hospital after accidentally consuming food laced with high-concentration THC."

"Contrary to common perception, such incidents do not occur only in marginalized households…"

"Before this incident was officially recorded, Mr. L—an individual who happened to pass by and has long monitored community safety—was the first to provide leads to our reporter."

"This individual is not a law enforcement officer nor affiliated with any regulatory body, yet he immediately recognized the severity of the situation and assisted our newspaper in verifying critical information."

"Prior to police intervention, this lead ensured timely attention to the incident and prevented more serious consequences."

"This event once again raises a question: when institutional responses are slow, do ordinary citizens still bear responsibility to remain vigilant toward potential risks?"

After reading, Zoe smiled: "Congratulations, Mr. L—you saved another family again."

"Are you mocking me?" Roger shrugged.

He hadn't expected Vanessa to mention him in nearly every news story.

Listening to these reports one after another gave him an odd serial-drama feeling.

"Of course not. I think you're cool," Zoe said bluntly. "I like this version of you—brave, calm, resourceful, decisive."

"Hehehe, don't flatter me—I feel like you're describing a superhero."

"You are my superhero," Zoe said, with a suggestive tone.

Roger rubbed his nose. "I only did what I could."

"It's more than just that one thing." Zoe excitedly shared everything she had dug up with him.

"You first appeared in the Seattle Times in the junkyard incident on August 5th. But that article only mentioned that Mr. L provided a tip."

"After that was what you told me — the community serial murder case, where you were described as the heroic Mr. L."

"Then there was the news about the garage dismantling of a Gundam, where you also appeared, described as Mr. L, who stepped in to stop it out of a simple sense of justice."

"And finally, in this poisoning news, there's Mr. L, who cares about community safety."

"God, I never imagined you'd cooperated with reporters on so many things! I thought you were just a vagrant back then!" Zoe's tone was slightly agitated. "You know what? After I told my friend about all this, she even thought you must be a Superman hiding among the common people."

Roger hurriedly asked, "You told your friend about my identity?"

"Of course not." The big-chested girl giggled. "I just shared with her the mysterious and heroic Mr. L from the newspaper that I happened to come across. I didn't tell her I knew Mr. L."

"That's good."

Roger set his mind at ease.

"So, my superhero, when are you coming to find me and ease my loneliness?"

Listening to the coquettish voice in his ear, Roger couldn't help but recall the lingering intimacy from last time at the hospital.

"If I had a pair of red underwear right now, I think I'd fly to your side in an instant."

"Mm-hmm… darling, how do you know I'm wearing sexy red lace-trimmed cut-out underwear right now?"

"Fuck."

Roger felt he was going to have a hard time calming down tonight.