The Crime System

Price of Venom in the Shadows

Luke Sullivan looked at the woman contemplatively as she smiled and hiccuped, "Sorry handsome, your pick-up line was wasted! Haha, I'm not just some pure and pretty face. I'm not here for a date!"

Oh...

As soon as she opened her mouth, Luke understood. This woman wasn't some innocent drunk girl – she was here for business.

Originally, he was just here to pick up a pretty girl, with no intention to pay for it.

Luke thought about changing his target, but felt somewhat bitter. Firstly, she simply stood out too much; no other girls could match her looks. Secondly, everyone else was already paired up, making it hard to engage other women in conversation.

Ah!

Luke made his decision – as long as it felt good, what's some money! He'd consider it a celebration for successfully crossing over!

So, he sat right beside her, continuing the conversation. "Hey beautiful, so those feelings of yours, how much are they?"

"Ha!" She laughed coldly, readily putting up three fingers, "True love? Priceless. One night? Three hundred! Also, I won't go home with you, or to some cheap motel. Four-stars and up or bust!"

"Jesus!" Luke slammed the table, "Is this a robbery? Three hundred? Four-star hotel? My God! Say, do you do discounts?"

"Handsome, I can tell you're not in this business!" She didn't even bat an eyelash. "You should know, with this price, there's no discount! If you have the guts and the money, we leave now, and I guarantee you'll be satisfied. If not, move out of the way and don't waste my time!"

"My God." Luke searched through his memory, realizing that even if he put his entire savings together, it wasn't even enough for a motel. So, he could only angrily yell at her, "Okay, I've decided to leave!"

Little did Luke know, someone had overheard their conversation. He had only just moved aside when a man clad in designer clothes came with a wad of cash and sat in his seat.

"Let's go, baby!" The man chomped on his gum and slapped down the cash, "Money's no object with me. Tonight at the Ritz, we will go all night, how about it?"

When the woman saw the money, her spacey expression vanished, instantly replaced by liveliness. She pretended to nod her head coyly, and left with the rich man without any hesitation.

The woman didn't even look at Luke as she left. His frustration was insane. Luke clenched his fist and angrily stared as the foxy pair left, telling himself, "Gold diggers! The less I see them, the better!" But as he stared, he saw a man sitting at the bar.

The man was wearing a black windbreaker and a baseball cap. His head was down, and the collar of the windbreaker was propped up, covering most of his face, only revealing two gloomy eyes.

The man's eyes never left the gold digger who was just drinking. Now that the beauty was leaving, his eyes followed the woman into the distance, as if deeply entranced.

Because the beauty was leaving from Luke's side, as the strange man's eyes followed the woman, he and Luke suddenly locked gazes.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" Luke thought the man was mocking him, and immediately flipped him off.

The man in the windbreaker shook a little as if surprised, then immediately stood up and left, disappearing within moments.

Luke ordered one of the cheapest cocktails, wanting to quench his own thirst, but his mind immediately jumped to a very important issue.

'Jesus Christ! That guy in the windbreaker; could it be that guy?'

Could there really be such a coincidence in the world?

Luke tried to convince himself otherwise–he was probably thinking too much. There was no way. He had just finished listening to the briefing for the York Criminal Case, and had he really seen the culprit himself?

Those kinds of odds must be smaller than winning the lottery!

Luke held the beer glass in his hand, yet he could not drink properly at all. The man in designer clothes was just too suspicious!

He lowered his head with a gloomy expression, and that of a suspicious feeling.

Luke thought about Detective Priscillia's case briefing. The York Case victims were all females with questionable habits. It fit that gold digger perfectly.

Not only that, but the culprit's face had been scratched, and the man in designer clothes was covering his face with his collar. Could it be?

Could it really be that the male in designer clothes was the York Criminal?