Lost pet cats...
Runaway underage girls...
Husbands suspected of cheating...
Stolen jewelry...
...
Although there were many commission letters stuffed at the entrance of the office, they were basically routine detective work and completely failed to pique Russell's interest.
After quickly browsing through the commission letters in his hand, Russell threw them into the trash can.
Let's deal with the anonymous call problem first!
Russell pulled open the office cabinet behind him, entered the password, and opened the safe inside.
Several stacks of cash, twenty to thirty gold coins, two handguns, and four magazines.
Of these two handguns, one was an HK P30L, and the other was a Glock 26.
Although Russell had a physique far exceeding that of normal people, when working as an assassin, he still preferred to use a handgun rather than charging into close combat like a berserker.
To excel in the profession of an assassin, he had specifically learned several different shooting techniques.
For example, Mozambique Drill, contact shooting, point shooting, C.A.R.s shooting technique, and so on.
Times have changed!
It's no longer an era where you can become an assassin just by picking up a gun.
Professionalism determines how long an assassin can live.
After taking out the HK P30L and Glock 26 from the safe and inspecting them, confirming there were no issues, Russell put both guns into holsters and hung them on his belt.
After arming himself, he took out two spare magazines and ten gold coins from the safe and put them in his pocket.
After doing all this, he locked the safe, closed the office door, and took a taxi to the Continental Hotel.
Although he had driven here, he had no intention of driving to the hotel himself.
The Continental Hotel.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary hotel located at an intersection.
But in reality, this was the assassin's hub in New York.
Regardless of whether they were direct assassins of the Continental Hotel or not, as long as they had the gold coins issued by the "High Table," the management behind the Continental Hotel, they could enter the hotel and enjoy all its services.
The Continental Hotel was the assassin's hub in New York.
Not only did the assassins know this, but the New York police knew it as well.
But knowing was one thing; so far, Russell had not heard of any unlucky soul being arrested by the police inside the hotel.
To some extent, the Continental Hotel represented safety.
Staying here, one wouldn't worry about the police suddenly showing up, nor would they worry about assassination by peers.
However, today, Russell came here not to check in, but to gather information.
After getting out of the taxi, Russell walked straight into the hotel.
He didn't go to the front desk to find the bald black concierge Charon, but instead, familiar with the place, he went to the secret bar located in the hotel's basement.
There was a coin slot on the bar's door.
After taking out a gold coin from his pocket and putting it in, the waiter inside opened the observation window on the door and took a look.
After confirming that Russell was the only one at the door, the waiter opened the door.
Entry fee, one gold coin!
Although these gold coins were issued and promoted by the High Table, their purchasing power remained a mystery.
Entering the bar, one gold coin.
Finding a doctor, one gold coin.
Checking into the hotel, one gold coin.
Disposing of a body, still one gold coin.
Even just having someone bring a pet dog to the hotel cost one gold coin.
To put it broadly, one gold coin could hire an assassin.
To put it narrowly, one gold coin could only pay someone to look after a pet dog for a few hours.
Although the purchasing power of these gold coins remained a mystery, under the High Table's promotion, these coins had firmly become the hard currency of the assassin world.
Speaking of this, one has to mention the High Table, this mysterious organization.
The High Table is an assassin alliance formed by the union of major global gangs, with a total of 12 seats, headquartered in the desert near Casablanca.
These 12 seats are the management of the High Table, occupied by forces such as the Camorra, the Mafia, the 'Ndrangheta, the Chinese, the Russians, and others.
The Continental Hotel is one of the subordinate organizations of the High Table.
On the surface, the High Table appears united, working together to resist external enemies.
But in reality, there are undercurrents and infighting within.
However, none of this had anything to do with Russell.
Although he was a direct assassin of the Continental Hotel, he didn't belong to any faction.
If there was a task he was interested in, he would take it.
If not, he would be a law-abiding, tax-paying private detective.
It wasn't night yet.
But there were already quite a few customers inside the bar.
Among them were several of Russell's old friends.
After nodding to these people, he went straight to the bar counter, took out a gold coin, and handed it to the bartender.
"I need a reliable hacker. Do you have any recommendations?"
"The hacker group 'Rising Tide' has done a few quite sensational cases recently. Do you need me to contact them for you?"
The bartender said, wiping a glass.
Rising Tide?
That name sounds a bit familiar!
"Okay, have them call this number to contact me."
After speaking, Russell took out a business card with only a phone number printed on it from his pocket and placed it next to the gold coin.
"Alright, Mr. Bradley!"
"Would you like something to drink?"
The bartender put away the business card and the gold coin and said with a smile.
"The usual!"
"Alright, sir!"
The bartender took a glass from behind the counter and poured Russell a glass of GlenDronach 18 Year Old whisky.
It's a bit funny to think about.
Russell had been an assassin for over two years, and quite a few targets had died by his hand.
But it wasn't until this year that he finally met the legal drinking age.
You could get married and get a driver's license at 16, and join the army and go to the battlefield at 18.
But you had to be 21 to legally drink alcohol.
What's even funnier is that this law prohibiting drinking under 21 has different interpretations in different states.
Some states stipulate that drinking and possessing alcoholic beverages under 21 are both illegal acts.
In other states, however, there is no legislation stating that drinking under 21 is illegal, only selling alcohol to customers under 21 is illegal.
Even for private consumption, different states have different regulations.
Some states allow private consumption, while others do not...
Some states allow drinking in the presence of a guardian, some states allow it for religious reasons...
Just one legal provision regarding drinking age is interpreted in different ways by different states.
So sometimes one has to say that it's truly a stroke of luck that the United States, this peculiar country, could become the world's number one superpower.
Just as Russell was contemplating when the United States would self-destruct due to systemic issues, a tall, attractive black-haired female assassin came and sat down beside him, placing her right hand directly on his shoulder.
"Perkins, I have a girlfriend!"
Russell gently moved the female assassin Perkins' right hand from his shoulder and slowly said.
Perkins was also an old friend of his; they had previously teamed up for several missions.
Although most assassins were lone wolves, one person's strength was ultimately limited.
When encountering some special tasks, partners were inevitably needed.
"I know, but your girlfriend isn't here right now."
"I've met her. She doesn't seem like such a petty person."
Perkins raised her right hand again, hooked Russell's chin with her fingers, and said with a charming expression.