94: Chapter 94 The Doctor's Scalpel

The cold meat processing plant in Queens was even colder than the basement in Brooklyn.

There was none of that sickening musty smell here; instead, it was replaced by a heavy scent of disinfectant mixed with blood.

The incandescent light tubes overhead buzzed with electrical currents, casting a deathly pale light on the raw pork hanging from the assembly line.

"Is this the Doctor's lair?"

Elizabeth's voice came through the earpiece.

Her voice had been processed through a voice changer, making her sound like an old man who had smoked for thirty years.

Chen Mo sat in an unmarked black Ford, holding a cup of coffee that had long gone cold, staring at the ordinary-looking red brick factory building in the distance.

"According to that kid Richie, on the fifteenth of every month—which is today—a refrigerated truck drives out of here, heading for a private warehouse in Port Jersey."

Chen Mo tossed the coffee cup into the trash bag on the passenger side. "But I don't have the patience to wait until then."

"What do you plan to do? Knock on the door and say you want to buy two pounds of pork?"

"I'm a cop, Nightingale." Chen Mo checked the M1911 at his waist and the backup glock hidden at his ankle. "I have a search warrant, even if I signed it myself."

"If your boss Miller finds out you're doing cross-district law enforcement again, he'll probably have a brain hemorrhage from anger."

"His blood pressure is already high enough. A little more won't hurt."

Chen Mo pushed open the car door; the ground was a bit slick after the rain.

He adjusted the bulletproof vest printed with NYPD, hung his police badge around his neck, his movements as natural as those of a seasoned detective.

"Plan A: I'll go in through the front door to draw attention. If they dare to resist—and they definitely will—you go in through the ventilation shaft."

"Roger that, Boss."

Chen Mo walked up to the massive iron rolling door and banged on it hard.

"Open up! New York Police, health inspection."

There was no movement inside.

Chen Mo didn't waste words. He took two steps back and pulled the trigger directly at the lock.

"Bang! Bang!"

After two gunshots, the lock was blasted apart.

He raised his foot and kicked a dent into the iron door, causing the rolling shutter to rattle up halfway.

He was greeted by a volley of bullets.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat—"

A few stray bullets grazed past his scalp and hit the concrete floor behind him, kicking up a shower of stone chips.

Chen Mo rolled on the ground, hiding behind a neatly stacked pile of empty wooden crates.

"I knew it."

He grinned, observing the situation inside through the gaps between the wooden crates.

This was indeed a meat processing plant, but it was merely a disguise.

Behind the hanging raw pork were rows of precise stainless steel workstations.

Several people in full protective suits were busy there, while security was handled by four mercenaries in tactical vests.

These men weren't using the modified pistols of street punks, but legitimate MP5 submachine guns.

"Professionals," Chen Mo said into his earpiece. "Looks like the Doctor doesn't like using those junkies as bodyguards."

"I'm at the second-floor vent," Elizabeth's voice was steady. "I see three targets, but no sign of the Doctor."

"Look for the one wearing gold-rimmed glasses." Chen Mo leaned half his body out and fired two shots.

"Bang! Bang!"

A mercenary fell to the ground at the sound, the bullet precisely finding the gap in his bulletproof vest and shattering his collarbone.

The man screamed, dropped his gun, and rolled on the ground.

The remaining three immediately suppressed him with gunfire, wood chips flying from the crates under the barrage of bullets.

"The firepower is too heavy, I'm pinned down." Chen Mo swapped magazines. "Nightingale, get to work."

"On it."

Just as she spoke, a cold gleam flashed from the shadows on the second floor.

A mercenary who had been wildly spraying bullets at Chen Mo suddenly stopped.

A black dagger had appeared in his neck, blood gushing out like a fountain and splashing onto the workstation beside him.

Elizabeth dropped from above like a black cat, landing without a sound.

She didn't even pull out the dagger. Instead, she used the momentum to sweep another mercenary off his feet, pressing her silenced glock against his chin.

"Pfft."

A muffled thud.

A flower of blood blossomed from the back of the man's head.

The last remaining mercenary panicked. He turned his gun, wanting to deal with the woman behind him, but Chen Mo had already rushed out from behind the wooden crates.

"Bang!"

The M1911 bullet pierced through his knee.

The mercenary fell to his knees. Before he could even scream, the butt of Chen Mo's gun slammed into his temple.

The entire process took less than thirty seconds.

Chen Mo stepped over the corpses on the floor and walked to the stainless steel workstations.

Several beakers sat on the counter, filled with that eerie green liquid.

Beside them were packaged small bags—precisely the "green devil" they had seen at the underground casino that day.

"Looks like we found the right place." Chen Mo picked up a bag and examined it. "If this stuff hits the market, those junkies will probably tear themselves to pieces."

"Boss, he's over there."

Elizabeth pointed to a reinforced security door at the end of the workshop.

A sliver of light leaked through the gap under the door.

Chen Mo walked over and pressed his ear against the door to listen.

From inside came the rapid sound of typing on a keyboard, along with the sound of paper being shredded.

"He's destroying evidence."

Chen Mo took a step back, raised his foot, and kicked hard against the lock.

"Clang!"

The door was kicked open.

A middle-aged man in a white lab coat and gold-rimmed glasses was frantically stuffing documents into a paper shredder.

Seeing Chen Mo enter, his hand shook in fright, scattering a stack of documents onto the floor.

"Don't move, put your hands up!" Chen Mo pointed his gun at him.

"Don't shoot, I'm a victim, I was forced!" The man raised his hands, his voice as high-pitched as a woman's. "I'm just a chemistry teacher, they kidnapped me."

Chen Mo glanced at the nameplate on the desk.

Anatoly Kozlov.

"A chemistry teacher?" Chen Mo sneered, his gaze falling on the computer screen that was still turned on, which displayed a complex molecular structure diagram.

"Then the lessons you teach are quite profound. What is this? An improved potent stimulant?"

"That... That's..."

"Stop acting, Doctor." Chen Mo nudged the muzzle forward. "How much did Ouroboros pay you to feed this failed biochemical waste to those poor bastards?"

Hearing the word "Ouroboros," the Doctor's pupils contracted sharply.

"Who are you? You're not a cop!"

"Bingo."

Chen Mo didn't waste words and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The bullet pierced through the Doctor's thigh.

He screamed as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his wound and rolling around.

"I don't have time to play interrogation games with you." Chen Mo walked over to him, looking down from above.

"Tell me, who is your supplier? Where is this shipment ultimately headed?"

"I can't say... if I say it, I'll die..." Sweating profusely from the pain, the Doctor's glasses went crooked. "They will kill my family..."

"Do you think I'm negotiating with you right now?"

Chen Mo shoved the muzzle into the Doctor's mouth, the cold metal clinking against his teeth.

"Mmph, mmph, mmph..."

"Nightingale, take his computer," Chen Mo ordered without looking back. "And those unshredded documents."

Elizabeth skillfully pulled out the hard drive and stuffed the documents from the floor into her backpack.

"Done."

Chen Mo looked into the Doctor's eyes, which were filled with terror.

"It seems you're still unwilling to speak."

He pulled the gun out and sighed.

"Then I'll just see for myself."

Before the Doctor could react, Chen Mo's hand was already pressed against his forehead.

"No... Don't..."

"Too late."

"Bang!"

The gunshot echoed in the small office.

[System Prompt: Just-deceased target detected (Elite).]

[Extracting...]

[Obtained Skill: Elementary Chemical Pharmaceutics (Mastery). Description: You are now an expert capable of brewing cough syrup into methamphetamine. Of course, if you wish, you can also formulate the purest painkiller in the world.]

[Obtained Memory Fragment: Shadow of the Docks.]

A massive torrent of information rushed into Chen Mo's mind.

In the scene, at Port Jersey's docks late at night, the sea wind howled.

Several black SUVs were parked in the shadows of the shipping containers. An elderly man in an expensive trench coat, spinning two walnuts in his hand, was inspecting the goods.

"This batch isn't pure enough." The old man threw a bag of green powder onto the ground and crushed it with his cane.

"Tell those Krauts that if they try to fool me with this kind of trash again, I'll stuff them into concrete barrels and throw them into the sea."

"Yes, Mr. Gambino."

The scene dissolved.

Chen Mo opened his eyes, a trace of coldness flashing in them.

"The Gambino Family."

He stood up and wiped his hands on the Doctor's white lab coat.

"Looks like we have a new opponent to play with."