villa
Jesse pulled a photo out of his phone and handed it to Milo.
There is a type of person in this world whose appearance, upon first glance, makes you forget about whether they are beautiful or not; you simply feel a sense of distance. The composure and confidence that comes from money and power make the person in the photo appear exceptionally striking and unattainable.
"Indeed, it can't compare." Milo examined the person in the photo and sighed, "They just don't look that old."
“It’s a pity he died before he turned eighteen,” Jesse sighed. “I actually met him once before. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was a genius in every way. If his family hadn’t gone astray, they would be living a very successful life now.”
Milo followed suit and sighed along with Jesse.
"The Dale and Thornton families didn't initially rise to prominence in Wudong Port, but in Wanyang. However, at that time, the most renowned name in the medical industry was actually the Green family. Richard Green was a rare businessman with an academic background, who was also involved in pharmaceutical research and development, and even held the title of chairman of the Medical Association. Therefore, even among all the well-known businessmen in Lanman, the Green family was at the very top of the pyramid. It's just that later Richard Green committed a crime, and his entire family died in a plane crash, so no one mentioned the Green family anymore."
Jesse and Milo had a good relationship, but they always kept their distance. This was the first time he had discussed the details of the case with Milo.
"The hollow corpses mentioned in the news are actually part of a transnational organ trafficking case that the authorities have been monitoring for several years. At six o'clock in the morning, that ghost ship drifted to Wudong Port, leaving no survivors. Some of them had been dead for less than 24 hours. The severity of the case is almost comparable to the one committed by Richard Green six years ago."
Milo asked tentatively, "So, you're a copycat?"
Jesse frowned: "It can't be a dead person committing the crime again. Sigh, it's very complicated, and we haven't figured it out yet."
Milo suddenly remembered that Blaise seemed to have left suddenly around three in the morning. From Happiness Building to Wudong Port, it seemed like a three-hour walk was possible.
"This case is now being jointly handled by the police stations of Wanyang and Wudonggang. With arrangements made at each level, all I know is that they are preparing to close the net and catch the big fish. For this big fish, many elite undercover agents have been reinstated. As for you, a small business owner who doesn't know anything and only has a face that looks a bit like someone else, everything I said before was a lie. You're not really that useful, so don't get involved."
“You think I’m not very useful,” Milo said after a moment’s thought. “But your superiors really want me to go undercover, don’t they?”
“Don’t be afraid,” Jesse said steadily. “They only know that you exist, but they don’t know who you are.”
“It’s too late,” Milo sighed. “That rye you mentioned has already contacted me.”
Jesse was stunned.
"But don't worry, he didn't do anything to me." Milo said seriously, pulling out photos from her phone. "I took these secretly; I don't know if they'll be of any use to you."
Jesse was stunned, unable to recover for a long time: "You—"
“Maybe I really could go undercover for you guys.” Milo said with a look of anticipation. “If you solve this case, you’ll get a promotion, right? Do you think you could double my undercover bonus? We can get it from them.”
Jesse interrupted Milo: "Didn't you understand me? This is no joke, you could die."
“But I’m still alive.” Milo pointed to the photograph on the table. “Didn’t they say he wouldn’t kill anyone who looked like Theo Green?”
Jesse's expression was serious: "This is absolutely not allowed. You must listen to me."
The usually cheerful man turned cold and looked unapproachable, so Milo didn't press Jesse any further.
He stayed at Jesse's house for two days. Blaise didn't contact him, but Jesse kept calling him all day long, fearing that he would be targeted by other people in the police department and that he might be secretly recruited as an informant.
When Miles called, Milo remembered that during their last meeting, Miles had said he would formally introduce him to Blaise.
Harold's car wouldn't stay long, so Milo made an excuse to slip out and got into Harold's car just in time.
The car wasn't heading down a route he was familiar with, so Milo tried to ask, "Where are we going?"
Harold ignored him and just kept driving.
The car stopped at a high-end men's beauty salon. Milo felt he recognized several faces from television; they were young and beautiful. These days, even men need to be sophisticated.
Harold handed him over to a middle-aged white woman and sat in the rest area to wait.
The woman smiled brightly at Milo: "Just call me Linda. Mr. Milo, you could be a TV star."
This was a polite compliment, probably directed at Miles behind his face.
Linda pulled out a private room for him to style his hair. Looking in the mirror, Milo frowned but said nothing and obediently sat down.
He closed his eyes and let the people coming and going fuss over him until they were all done, at which point Milo was already drowsy.
After waiting for two hours, Harold got into the car again with Milo.
In the back seat, Milo, wearing an expensive suit, was fast asleep, sprawled out on his back.
Harold, in the front seat, glanced at the rearview mirror. He'd been driving Milo for years, used to seeing the man all sorts of disheveled, greedy, and cowardly faces, so he didn't really understand his boss's taste. But today, he suddenly realized that the saying "clothes make the man" wasn't just a myth. Wearing nice clothes, the value of his face became apparent; sleeping quietly and silently, he looked beautiful, like a grain of sand briefly polished into a glittering bead.
The car wound its way up the mountain and into the mountaintop area, which is the most expensive area in the entire Wudong Port. It has a wide view, is lined with villas, and often has fireworks displays all night long, truly embodying extravagance and debauchery.
All guests' cars were only allowed to park at the main gate. Harold dropped off Milo and was about to leave when Milo asked, "How do I get in?"
Harold replied coldly, "I don't know."
With a flick of the taillights, Harold was off.
Milo didn't leave. He stood at the door for a while, staring blankly. People getting off the bus passed by and would occasionally look back at him, making Milo extremely uncomfortable. He forced himself to step over the threshold and into this world where every inch of land was precious.
This is a cluster of townhouses, three in a semi-circle, nestled amidst verdant hills, overlooking the bustling city. Each private courtyard features a landscape bonsai fountain, with several intricate paths leading to the main hall of the central villa.
There were a few people scattered around in the courtyard. Strangely, some were elegant and well-dressed, while others looked so ordinary that they seemed out of place.
The courtyard was set out with exquisite drinks and refreshments, but no one was eating; the people were just chatting and laughing.
Milo glanced around and noticed that everyone entering the main hall was presented with a crimson invitation, which was scanned by bodyguards before entry was permitted.
It looked exactly like the invitation he found in Blaise's pigeon coop.
At the charity gala... Milo picked up a champagne glass and saw a mechanical lotus flower logo at the bottom.
This is a charity gala hosted by Lianhua Machinery, which means he is now standing on the Thornton family's turf.
Milo suddenly felt the ground beneath his feet become hot.
Without an invitation, he couldn't get in. But since Miles had asked him to come, he would definitely come to find him. Milo decided not to think too much about it and started having tea in the front yard.
Second floor reception hall.
Steven leaned lazily against the railing, listening to the incessant chatter of several people around him about various men and women. He rubbed the ring on his right pinky finger, feeling restless as he thought about it. He asked for a drink, when he suddenly heard a sneer from the person next to him.
"Who's standing down there? Are they here begging for food?"
A burst of laughter joined in, but soon that laughter was replaced by astonishment.
"She's really good-looking... Who brought her here? Is she newly signed?"
Steven squinted and glanced at it, but the half-tilted wine glass froze in mid-air.
There were quite a few people in the front yard, but he spotted the man in the white suit immediately. He was tall and straight, with a well-proportioned figure, and the tailored suit accentuated his perfect proportions. Steven knew the brand all too well; it was the man's go-to brand.
Steven vaguely recalled the expression on that man's face when he was explaining how to choose a suit. Every smile and frown of that day reappeared on that face below.
If that person were still alive, would they look like this?
No. That person wouldn't eat so voraciously in public, much less step into a shady business establishment like his.
A woman in a red dress, holding a glass of champagne, climbed onto Steven's arm, smiling broadly: "Staring so intently, oh, you like handsome men, huh?"
Steven gave a contemptuous and disgusted laugh, put down his glass, got up and walked downstairs, deciding to go and meet them himself.
*
"How long did you wait?"
Milo swallowed the last piece of pastry, and upon hearing Miles' voice, he turned around before he could even swallow and said, "Just arrived, just arrived."
Miles was still wearing a navy blue suit, but it didn't look like a business style; it was smooth and flowing, most likely a bespoke suit, which complemented his imposing presence, making him look like a member of the upper echelons of high society.
“This outfit suits you very well,” Miles said softly.
Milo was momentarily at a loss for words.
Miles didn't dwell on his reaction, and simply asked, "Are you full?"
Milo looked embarrassed.
Miles smiled. The iceberg melted. Milo knew this meant Miles had moved on from their previous unpleasant encounter.
“Let’s go in.” Miles reached out and put his arm around Milo’s waist, quietly pulling him to his side.
The guard at the door took out a black detector and scanned it on the invitation Miles had handed him. A string of green numbers flashed on the screen, but Milo couldn't see them clearly and didn't bother to look at them. The guard nodded in acknowledgment and invited them inside.
Upon entering the main hall, Milo's first reaction was that it was excessively luxurious.
The panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows capture the night view from the mountaintop, the spiraling staircase seems to be inlaid with lampposts, and the ceiling lights are probably five or six layers high, hanging down like a cascading rain of tassels.
"Distinguished guest." A teasing smile came from the side.
Milo looked in the direction of the sound and saw Steven, dressed in a black suit, still sporting his dyed blond hair, his left ear bandaged, but with a friendly smile on his face.
Beside him was a woman in a red dress. She had a red floral tattoo on her ankle; Milo hadn't forgotten her. The woman who had sex with Steven in the funeral parlor.
When she noticed Milo's inquiring gaze, she winked playfully.
How can this be explained? Logically speaking, this woman could be considered Miles' stepmother, but she is clearly a full twelve years younger than Miles. Now she is openly arm in arm with Steven, and Steven even calls Miles "uncle"... This is truly a chaotic mess.
Milo glanced at Miles's expression, but to his surprise, Miles himself seemed quite calm about it.
"And who is this?" Steven's gaze fell on Milo, who was standing next to Miles.
Miles said calmly, "It's none of your business."
"I'm not asking you." Steven smiled at Milo. "Handsome, what's your name?"
Miles did not comment.
Milo thought for a moment and replied, "Milo."
“Milo?” Steven chuckled, “A good name. I just don’t know if you can live up to it.”
The words were ambiguous and impolite, creating a somewhat awkward atmosphere.
The woman in the red dress stepped forward warmly, shook hands with Milo, and said, "My name is Nonai. Mr. Milo, you are very handsome."
Milo politely returned the handshake. He realized that the beautiful woman's pronunciation was a bit strange, and she was probably not a Lanman.
“Well… Mr. Milo, has your boss ever told you that you look a lot like one of my classmates?” Steven reached out to pinch Milo’s cheek. “Ten years of friendship, it’s truly unforgettable. Seeing you makes me miss him again.”
Before Steven's hand could land on Milo's face, it was intercepted by someone halfway.
Upon seeing the person who arrived, Steven's smile couldn't be faked for a moment.
Most of the people in the banquet hall were dressed in formal attire, but there were also some dressed casually; Blaze was one of them.
“You’re here too.” Steven said, after stabbing one person at a time. “Oh, right, I forgot, we invited someone like you.”
Milo witnessed the shootout at the funeral parlor firsthand. Blaze shot Steven, crippling half his ear. At the time, it was a life-or-death struggle between the two, but now... in just one week, the two are still able to maintain a facade of peace under the same roof.
Those who run businesses really can endure what ordinary people cannot.
The three of them each occupied a spot, and Milo could sense the undercurrents swirling within them.
In the end, Steven took a step back, looked at Milo with a smile, and said, "If I were you, I definitely wouldn't play with a bunch of lunatics. If you're looking for fun, you should choose me."
After saying that, Steven led the woman in the red dress away gracefully.
Only the three of them remained.
Miles looked at Blaise and said calmly, "Come to the company when you have time."
Blaise nodded, his attitude surprisingly respectful.
Milonahan hadn't expected such a peaceful relationship between the two.
“This is Milo. One of my sponsored students.” Miles was about to speak when a man holding a wine glass stepped forward and shook hands with Miles, interrupting him.
The visitor was clearly a businessman eager to strike up a conversation with Miles; he kept offering toasts, holding his glass very low.
“You go and look around yourself,” Miles said to Milo, then turned to Blaise, “keep an eye on him for me, don’t let anyone cause trouble.”
Blaise glanced down at Milo, offering no comment.
Miles walked away, his figure gradually blending into a group of businessmen talking.
Milo spoke first: "Thank you for letting me stay that night."
He said it against his will, but he had to. Even though Milo thought Blaise wouldn't believe him at all.
A series of tinkling sounds rang out, and someone began to play the piano in the main hall. The gate in the distance was closed, turning the entire hillside villa into a closed space.
Elegantly dressed men and women gradually walked towards the center of the main hall. Soft lighting shone down, and Milo realized that these people were going to dance.
Blaze turned and left, and Milo looked around before finally following in his footsteps.
Blaze walked very fast, and Milo couldn't keep up for a while. He only knew that he went up the winding stairs and arrived at the second floor.
As far as the eye can see, the neon-lit city streets resemble a distant golden ribbon, and the outdoor swimming pool and exquisite sculptures gleam under the lights, with men and women physically united at the poolside.
Below was an elegant ball, above was a chaotic orgy; Milo was momentarily at a loss.
But he soon realized that he had actually followed Blaise to the villa area on the right, and the previous ball was about the villa in the middle.
In this place, hedonism is clearly the prevailing trend.
The tables were lined up, some for betting on sports, some for shuffling cards, and all you could hear was the sound of piles of cards being shoved down, accompanied by the crisp, loud ringing of bells.
A waiter came forward, looked at the two of them, and finally handed Milo a string of numbers.
"Sir, we offer free starter credits, valid for all games. Today's jackpot is in the roulette game, and the winner receives 3 million."
Blaze, losing interest, was about to leave when Milo, who was following behind, caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye and suddenly stopped in his tracks.
A burly man sat at the gambling table, his eyes gleaming as he looked at the cards in his hand. They seemed to be good cards. The man slammed the cards down and roared excitedly.
He is Ruan Jiaming, the son of the restaurant owner, Lao Ruan.
Milo knew he was a gambler, but he never expected him to gamble at a place like this. Only those with the special red invitation could enter; Milo couldn't fathom how he had gotten involved with these people.
Considering the solid gold ring on his thumb, Milo guessed that he must have recently made a fortune.
Milo changed his mind and took the card from the waiter.
Seeing this, Blaise frowned slightly.
Milo looked up at him, a cautious smile appearing in his dark, bright eyes: "Can I play a round?"
Blaise's furrowed brow gradually relaxed without obstruction.
Milo struggled to squeeze into the crowd.
A group of gamblers, having had their fill of gambling, opened a new round of betting odds and screamed excitedly.
Seeing that Milo was being jostled and unable to squeeze in, Blaze got annoyed and went straight up, forcefully pushed through the crowd, grabbed a short, fat man, and forced Milo to sit down.
Completely tyrannical behavior.
A stranger's face, with only a small amount of starting capital... Being pretty isn't an advantage at the gambling table, so someone immediately said disdainfully, "Get out of here—"
The remaining few words were swallowed back down his throat before he could even utter them.
Following the hand on Milo's shoulder, everyone saw the person standing behind him.
The tattoo on his right neck was a pattern of thorns and wheat awns, depicting a ghost dwelling in the south traveling north. Anyone who recognized Blaise would not want to provoke this person.
The crowd dispersed, and the man who had been the banker at the gambling table had won many rounds. The ever-victorious general was now drinking heavily and smoking a lot.
Steven squinted his hazy eyes and saw the newcomer grinning broadly: "Heh, changed your mind? Want to play with me now?"
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