Chapter 4221

Bruce woke up again, and it was already daylight. The dream he had that night was a complete mess. However, he seemed to have seen that man's memory again. Looking at it, the dried corpse in clown costume, in life, was a handsome scoundrel who had stolen the hearts of many girls.

But there was something strange about it—never mind whether he was actually a rich second-generation heir, this man was so handsome, what kind of beautiful girl couldn't he charm? Especially those rich daughters from big cities—they were absolutely a sure thing with just a flirt. Find one, and he wouldn't have to worry about food or drink for the rest of his life, nor would he need to dress as a clown to make people laugh.

Yet the woman he claimed he would bring home to marry looked like a prostitute, and moreover, the kind who worked in the shadows, unseen. Her appearance was quite ordinary, nothing special about it. Why would he choose her?

Bruce knew this man must have truly brought this woman back to his hometown and married her, because the man's daughter named Amy had the exact same hair color and eye color as this prostitute, and their faces bore a certain resemblance. They must have been mother and daughter.

Bruce felt there was definitely something fishy about this. He had to find more clues related to the circus, even though the warehouse had already burned down, but there were always things that couldn't be burned. He prepared to go back there and take another look.

He and Kent went together to the ruins of the warehouse again. Indeed, the place had been burned almost completely. The town didn't even have a police station, let alone a fire department, and it burned fiercely all night, leaving the land pitch black.

Fortunately, there was a wooden house nearby, while the others were those very old brick houses, so the fire didn't spread.

Bruce and Kent stepped inside and began checking for any leftover items. However, they were somewhat disappointed to find that basically everything had been burned away, not even leaving debris, but directly turned to ash.

However, there were some relatively hard objects that remained intact—namely, the row of large iron cages that had been placed behind the warehouse. Possibly because they were quite old, the steel quality back then wasn't good, so the cages had melted considerably, twisted and bent, lying on the ground.

Bruce walked over and took a glance. At first, he didn't think anything was wrong, but soon he noticed something off. Because the lock on this cage had some issues, it was a bit different from the locks on ordinary animal cages.

Nowadays, the simplest cage lock is generally just a bolt with a protruding hole at the end, then a metal plate that slides down. Slide the metal plate through that protruding hole, then hang a lock on the hole—this way, it can't be opened.

But in earlier years, locks and keys were relatively expensive, so people generally avoided using locks if they could, or used something like a simple pull-lock. That is, slide the bolt through a specially shaped hole, then lift it up and place it on the other edge of the hole—this way, it catches.

This kind of lock is also used for cages holding fierce beasts. Because lions, tigers, and similar animals lack the dexterous finger joints of primates, they can't grasp the bolt, nor can they perform such complex movements, and they certainly couldn't understand the mechanism of the bolt. This lock is more than sufficient for them. Even some later pet cages used this same approach—no need for lock heads and keys, just make a mechanism that cats and dogs can't open.

Yet Bruce discovered that this circus, active in the last century, had actually equipped every cage with a lock.

When he came before, the situation was too urgent, so he didn't have time to examine closely, and besides, because there was a roof, it was pitch black back then—he couldn't see anything clearly. This fire burned the entire building down, but instead, it allowed Bruce to see more details.

He walked over, half-kneeled down, and carefully examined the lock—it was indeed a product from that era. Although assembly-line factories already existed back then, molding technology and the like were nowhere near as advanced as today; one look at this lock and you could tell it had been around for years.

So the question arises: if it's for lions and tigers, why go to all this trouble with such a lock? Are they afraid lions will steal keys, or that tigers will pick the lock?

A possibility immediately flashed through Bruce's mind. At that moment, Kent walked over. He didn't examine things as meticulously as Bruce did, but he noticed another detail.

"Look." Kent pointed at the ground.

Bruce lowered his head and saw that the ground here was indeed somewhat different from other places.

Of course, the floorboards on the ground had long since burned away, leaving only the foundation. But back then, the foundation wasn't solid concrete—it was laid with bricks. The bricks here were somewhat looser than elsewhere.

The two found a branch and started tapping the bricks. After prying for a long time, they finally pried it open, and the soil underneath also showed some abnormality, unlike the burned soil elsewhere. Bruce reached down and dug, and actually found grass roots.

He dug a few more bricks around, found none, and only the soil beneath where the cages were placed had plant roots. He became more certain of his earlier guess.

"What was kept here was probably not animals." Bruce shook his head and said, "The lock must have been designed to deal with primates. And the change in soil quality below might be due to long-term seepage of excrement into the ground."

Kent sucked in a breath of cold air and said, "You mean these cages were holding people?!"

Bruce nodded and said, "I'm afraid so."

"But… but those fierce beasts also excrete, right? Couldn't it be them…"

"Don't forget, fierce beasts rely on scent to mark territory. Their sense of smell is far more sensitive than humans', so in animal training, how to handle the excrement of fierce beasts is very important. Because if not handled properly, lions, tigers, and similar beasts that use scent to mark their territory will become extremely frenzied and utterly unsuitable for performance."

"Oh, I get it now," Kent said, "they smell too much of their own kind's urine, feel their territory invaded, and then go berserk?"

"Not exactly, but you can understand it that way. Anyway, the circus relies on these fierce beasts to make money, so they must ensure these animals can perform smoothly on stage. But humans…"

Kent also fell silent, he could roughly imagine what it meant to keep people here, but he still held a sliver of hope and said, "Maybe it's gorillas or something like that? They have dexterous fingers that can open locks, and they're also very smart—maybe they'd escape, and they wouldn't be that frenzied either…"

"Do you know another habit of primates?"

"What?"

"They throw feces at each other." Bruce said, "Precisely because they have dexterous hands capable of grasping, they treat their own feces as weapons, flinging them at opponents, especially when in a bad mood—this behavior becomes very frequent. The gaps in these cage bars are wide enough for them to completely fling their excrement out. And although the lighting was poor before, I did look around—on clothing and similar items that easily get stained, there was no excrement. Moreover, only the soil beneath the cages showed a different condition, which also indicates the excrement wasn't scattered everywhere."

Kent sighed and said, "Alright, it seems I have to accept the most terrifying possibility. Then let's study why they did this. Purely to satisfy their own desires?"

Bruce shook his head and said, "If it were just one person secretly doing this, it might still be possible. But judging by the scale of these cages, it's likely that everyone in the circus, from top to bottom, knew about this, yet they tacitly cooperated, even becoming accomplices. This proves they couldn't possibly have done it just to vent desires, because there must have been women in the circus who received no benefit and wouldn't necessarily cooperate so willingly."

"Maybe they were just forced by violence." Kent said.

Bruce shook his head again and continued, "If it were in a closed environment, perhaps that could be the case, but this is after all a circus that tours for performances. They have too many opportunities to interact with the outside world. Violence might be able to coerce someone temporarily, but among so many people, if just one wanted to rebel, it would be too easy to make contact with the audience—things would definitely be exposed."

"So it's unlikely to be a kidnapping case where men abducted people just to vent desires. Perhaps it's human trafficking? That would also fit the circus's touring habit."

"That's possible." Bruce nodded, "This circus secretly engaged in human trafficking, using its touring route to continuously abduct victims and sell them in unfamiliar cities."

"But this also has a problem: passing through so many cities, they'd have to grease palms everywhere, know enough snakeheads to sell smoothly. Otherwise, they'd catch new ones while the old ones remained unsold—trouble would surely follow."

"Why do you say that?"

"Once people are captured, they can't be released—otherwise the other side would definitely call the police. But if they were killed, it would involve a more troublesome problem: corpse disposal. Handling corpses isn't as simple as you imagine—sometimes it's harder than handling living people."

"Put that way, it really does seem difficult to achieve." Kent scratched his head, also unsure what exactly was going on.

However, Bruce, having gained information from the dream, had a possible speculation: that clown performer, instead of chasing rich daughters, wanted to marry a prostitute—perhaps because he was in this line of work.

The circus had a dark industry behind the scenes—whether human trafficking or something else—anyway, it was absolutely the kind of business that couldn't see the light. To operate such an industry smoothly, it's best to only recruit locals who are trustworthy.

But running an industry can be done this way, yet marriage cannot. In such a town that has intermarried for generations, the greatest fear is cousin marriage. This clown performer lived in the last century, not the Middle Ages—they were well aware of the harms of cousin marriage. So they could only seek outsiders.

Yet once an outsider is brought in, this person is bound to know what they're doing. Guarding against threats day and night, internal thieves are hard to prevent. So it's best to find someone with no influence, distorted morals, who can be easily controlled and brainwashed by them. Preferably, they'd also have experience in this field and could help them with the work.

Bringing in a rich daughter—never mind if she ran away and her family sued, what kind of devastating blow that would inflict on the circus—just the fact that she can't shoulder a burden or lift a weight means she couldn't do this work. Just thinking about it tells you how awful the environment of a circus holding so many people must be—ordinary people couldn't endure it.

But prostitutes are much better in that regard. Anyone with even a bit of background wouldn't become a prostitute. Moreover, having struggled in the lower strata, they've seen all kinds of people from all walks of life, making it hard for such people to have high morals. Added to their ability to do dirty work, they are indeed a perfect match.

However, Bruce found himself puzzled: engaging in this dark industry is for profit—so why not just find a rich widow? That would also make money, and moreover, the latter would definitely be more respectable and safer. This clown performer doesn't seem like a fool—just based on that face, he could easily run off and latch onto a wealthy patron. Why would he hesitate, take enormous risks marrying a prostitute, and still insist on sharing in the corruption?

Just as Bruce was thinking, the agent had already followed Linda and returned again to the base of the waterfall upstream of the stream.

Bad news is, due to material issues, this fishing rod simply can't achieve flexibility—it can't be used for fishing. But the good news is, because it's sufficiently hard and the front has been sharpened, it can be used to spear fish.

And this girl who had never fished before, for some reason suddenly developed a great interest in fish, somehow dug out an old, broken kayak from somewhere, and prepared to paddle down to the waterfall base to spear fish.

The agent naturally didn't follow her, just stood on the bank watching her paddle all the way. Her back no longer seemed as stiff as before; in the mist rising from the waterfall, she revealed a kind of liveliness unlike anything before.