After 1:00 PM.
Svetlana called Dexter. "Boss, we found them."
"Oh? That fast? Address?" Dexter asked.
"XXXX," Svetlana rattled off an address, then added, "They're working at XXX right now. They'll be there until dark. There are eleven other Colombian immigrants living in that house. Everyone will be there at night."
Dexter truly hadn't expected these Russian "artisans" to be so effective in this regard. He was amused.
"Svetlana, impressive. Maybe you guys should start a second career in tracking and investigation," Dexter joked.
Svetlana laughed too. "Worth considering."
"Mmh. By the way, what's the cost?" Dexter asked.
Svetlana named a figure, a little over a thousand dollars.
Dexter didn't mind. "I'll come by later and give it to you."
Hanging up.
Dexter didn't delay. He immediately went out and drove toward the address Svetlana gave.
He had lived here for quite a while now and was fairly familiar with the streets.
Driving along...
Suddenly, Frank, carrying a tray of food and walking hurriedly, appeared in his field of vision.
Seeing him at a glance, Dexter decisively turned the steering wheel, pulling over to the curb, curious to see what Frank was up to.
Before long.
Recognizing Butterface's house, Dexter understood.
"Well, better lucky than early," Dexter grinned, deciding without hesitation to teach Frank a lesson.
The reason was simple.
In the matter of Butterface, Frank was disgusting.
Just to scam her pension, when the hospital called saying there was a matching heart for Butterface—who desperately needed a transplant—he actually lied and rejected the heart on her behalf, directly leading to her death.
This was murder, and a very disgusting murder at that.
So, right arm?
Dexter lit a cigarette and pondered how to deal with Frank this time.
Thinking for a while...
He suddenly remembered he still had an unused Dexter Morgan character card...
Heh.
Forget it.
This time, I won't just break it. Let's disassemble Frank's right arm entirely.
"Need a crappy van, a bone cleaver, two ski masks... better get a large dose of sedative too," having made up his mind, Dexter muttered to himself. Done. He stopped watching and drove off.
Driving for about twenty minutes.
Dexter parked again, looking diagonally across at a dilapidated house.
In the backyard of the dilapidated house, several Colombians were smoking, drinking, and bragging.
The front yard was small.
It seemed these Colombians mainly hung out in the backyard.
Dexter didn't waste time. He drove slowly around to the back while carefully observing the surroundings.
These Colombians obviously had guns.
Bursting in and spraying bullets wasn't a good option.
Long-range sniping—very suitable.
He needed a vantage point.
This problem was a bit tricky.
This area was residential, surrounded by small, two-story run-down buildings. Within a certain range, there were no taller structures.
Higher buildings were further away...
Dexter drove around and found an abandoned high-rise. Cigarette in mouth, he walked all the way to the top floor and looked into the distance.
Good god. The straight-line distance was probably around a thousand meters, give or take. However, he could indeed see the dilapidated house where the Colombians were, as well as the backyard.
Excellent visibility, unobstructed line of sight.
Seemed doable.
Sniping those Colombians from this far away... with the capabilities of cops like Tony, they probably wouldn't even trace it back here.
It was a go.
Eight or nine hundred meters wasn't a problem.
Thanks to the Professional Sniper Skill he drew, he could now be considered a professional-level sniper.
With the location chosen.
Dexter didn't waste time. He quickly went downstairs and left to buy a vehicle.
That Mercedes was too conspicuous; driving it around at night wasn't suitable, too easy to be noticed.
He needed to buy a motorcycle and an outfit to burn afterwards.
Time flew.
By a little after 4:00 PM, everything was ready.
Dexter returned to the restaurant, sat on the sofa to rest, and sent a text to Bianca asking about her work, so he didn't seem like a "hit it and quit it" kind of guy.
Hospital.
For the past ten hours or so, Bianca had actually been wondering about Dexter's silence. Receiving the text now, she felt relieved, and a smile unconsciously appeared on her lips.
They chatted for a bit.
[I have something to do tonight. See you tomorrow?] Dexter said.
[Okay. I have to work overtime tonight anyway,] Bianca wasn't a clingy girl, and they weren't exactly in a relationship yet, so she agreed readily.
Shortly after.
Contact ended.
Both got busy with their own things.
---
As soon as school let out, Carl, carrying his backpack, trotted happily toward Dex Restaurant.
Running into the restaurant, he greeted Veronica and the others, then said happily, "Veronica, I want to eat the new dish tonight. Dexter said it's his treat."
Veronica nodded. "Okay. Find a seat first."
"Mmh," Carl responded, but instead of waiting obediently, he headed straight for the sofa and started playing with the sleeping Dumb Nine.
Veronica saw this, thought for a moment, and didn't stop him.
Tonight, the restaurant was still very lively, with many customers.
Dexter was busy in the kitchen for a while before he had time to call Carl into the kitchen for a chat.
Of course, while chatting, he casually asked about the latest developments with Fiona.
As a result, he made a somewhat unexpected discovery.
"Fiona seems to have hooked up with Tony these past few days," Carl laughed. "She thinks I didn't notice, but I did. Let me tell you, the night before last, we ran to Karen's house..."
"Later, Fiona and Tony probably had a quickie at Karen's house."
Dexter: "????"
Playing that recklessly?
Steve was outside at the time...
What is this? A trip to prison and she spirals straight down?
Though, it is quite interesting.
In the original show, Fiona indeed couldn't keep her pants on and loved to mess around, but every time she cheated, she at least felt some guilt.
Now, cheating with a clear conscience?
What exactly happened?
Dexter was very curious.
"Carl, stop laughing. This isn't right. Don't be like Fiona, understand?" Dexter thought for a moment and said.
"Not right? But it feels pretty badass," Carl's tone was full of anticipation.
Dexter shook his head with a smile. "Nothing badass about it. If Fiona keeps playing like this, sooner or later there will be serious consequences. Imagine if you were Steve, and your girlfriend did something like that. What would you think?"
Instantly, the smile on Carl's face vanished.
Carl froze, stunned for a few seconds, then snapped back. "FUCK! I'd kill her!"
Dexter laughed. "Understand now? This kind of thing isn't cool; it just looks dirty."
Saying this, Dexter remembered something Kevin said to Fiona in the original show.
The gist was, if Fiona kept taking off her pants for anyone she met, any man who slept with her later would probably have to scrub his junk with steel wool...
Thinking of this, Dexter couldn't help but chuckle. He felt that it was pretty much at that stage now.
How many more until she hits a hundred?
Who would dare touch a woman like that?
Comrades Steve and Tony were truly brave warriors.
Carl looked thoughtful and nodded. "I get it."
"Good," Dexter reached out and patted Carl's head, hesitating slightly. "As a reward, come here. I'll show you something that will definitely make you happy."
Hearing this, Carl laughed again immediately. "What?"
"Follow me."
The two left the kitchen and went behind the counter.
Dexter pointed under the counter.
One second, two seconds.
Whoosh!
Carl's eyes widened, excitement written all over his face. "Holy shit!! So many guns!"
Carl reached out, wanting to grab one.
Dexter anticipated this and decisively grabbed Carl's hand. "Look, don't touch. When I have time later, I'll take you to find an empty place to play."
Carl felt a bit regrettable but nodded obediently. "Okay, it's a promise."
"Promise. Alright, go sit down and get ready to eat."
"Okay."
A few minutes later, Carl wolfed down a Rice Bowl Set, cleaning the plate completely. He patted his satisfied belly, then got up and went into the kitchen to say goodbye to Dexter.
"Dexter, I'm done eating. Gotta go back," Carl said seriously. "The money I borrowed from you before, I'll work hard to pay you back. I just can't right now."
For a Gallagher, remembering this was already rare.
Dexter smiled. "Don't worry about it. When you finish elementary school, work for me to pay it back."
Carl hadn't expected this option. His eyes lit up immediately, and he agreed readily. "Okay!"
"Safe trip home."
"Mmh. See you."
Carl, carrying his backpack, left the restaurant happily and walked toward the Gallagher house.
---
The job Tony found for Fiona yesterday was a sales position at a relatively large clothing store.
This job had a base salary plus commission, decent benefits, and more importantly, she could bring her kid without the manager nagging...
Tony had considered all aspects of Fiona's situation, putting in a lot of effort and thought. You could say he was simping quite thoroughly.
That evening.
Tony drove to the back door of the clothing store to check on Fiona's first day, see how it went, and if there were any problems.
After a call and a short wait.
Fiona, who had worked all day and was fairly satisfied with the job, appeared in front of Tony.
They chatted for a few minutes.
Then, having been with countless men and knowing exactly what Tony wanted, Fiona didn't waste time. She expressed her gratitude to Tony through action.
In the car.
Watching Fiona working hard, Tony felt like the past few days were a fucking dream, and he desperately wanted this dream never to end.
Therefore, when Fiona finished and wiped her mouth.
Tony immediately handed her a bottle of water. Then, unable to hold back, he gathered his courage and spoke up. "Fiona, does Steve still live with you?"
Fiona drank a couple of sips of water. Hearing this, her gaze shifted slightly. She looked at Tony. "Tony, don't ask too much."
"..." Tony wasn't stupid. He knew if he asked again, this beautiful dream might end. Struggling internally, he said, "I want to be with you. I can take care of you guys."
Fiona's brow twitched. "Stop talking. I still have work. Going now."
Dropping that line, Fiona got out of the car immediately.
Tony sat in the car, watching Fiona's retreating back, his emotions a mess, sighing repeatedly.
After a long time.
"Sigh~" Tony drove away.
Inside the clothing store.
Fiona acted normal, warmly greeting customers and trying hard to sell clothes.
In the blink of an eye, it was 6:30 PM.
Quitting time.
Fiona went to the break room, picked up Liam, and headed toward the Gallagher house.
---
Having laid in the hospital for over three months.
Patrick Gallagher's youngest son, Warren Patrick—the sole survivor of his family—was finally discharged from the rehab hospital, although one of his legs was permanently disabled.
Under the night sky.
Warren Patrick limped slowly toward his home.
Home, which had been blown to smithereens that night, was still a pile of rubble.
Warren stood before the ruins, looking quietly for a while, then found a random rock to sit on.
Over the past three months, his relatives on his mom's side had scavenged some valuable items from the ruins, and most importantly, found his parents' bank cards and relevant documents, keeping them safe for now.
Plus, the land was still there...
Next, he needed to make several trips to the bank and relevant departments to complete the inheritance procedures and inherit his parents' estate.
Then, build a house on this land.
After all, without a house, there was nowhere to live.
Patrick and his wife hadn't bought insurance for the house.
To build a house, he had to pay for everything himself.
That was a significant amount of money. Afterwards, furnishing it would cost more.
His parents didn't leave much of an inheritance.
Where was all this money going to come from?
Warren was distressed, scratching his head vigorously, thinking and thinking.
Suddenly.
He thought of the dilapidated house at 2119 North Wallace.
Before Patrick died, he had already gotten his hands on that house, had all the paperwork... but because of the shamelessness of Fiona and her gang, he was forced to rent it back to the Gallaghers and sign a fifty-year lease.
With that lease in place, he couldn't take the house back, and because of "sale does not break lease" laws, it was almost impossible to sell it.
But...
Warren grinned.
On one hand, Fiona and her crew owed at least three months' rent by now. Getting that money would help a lot.
On the other hand, if the house couldn't be sold, change the strategy. Mortgage it at the bank, then just don't pay it back. Let the bank deal with Fiona and her gang. Wouldn't that be like selling the house in a roundabout way? Although doing so meant losing a lot of money, ultimately, getting tens of thousands of dollars in one go was better than collecting that tiny bit of rent every month.
With a plan.
Warren relaxed a lot. He laughed for a while, then stood up.
"Damn Gallaghers!" Warren muttered a curse to himself and limped toward his relatives' house nearby.
---
After 8:00 PM.
Service at Dex Restaurant ended.
For Dexter, business time began!
Dexter didn't delay. He cleaned up quickly, walked Dumb Nine back to the hotel, changed clothes, left Dumb Nine, and set off.
Soon.
Wearing a helmet, dressed all in black, almost completely covered, Dexter got on the motorcycle, left the hotel's underground parking lot, and took a detour toward the abandoned building chosen in the afternoon.
At this time of night, the abandoned building was ghost-free.
Dexter went all the way to the top floor, checked the surroundings to ensure no one was there, then pulled up the System and retrieved the Barrett sniper rifle he got from the chest.
A second later.
A gun bag appeared at Dexter's feet.
Dexter squatted, unzipped the bag, skillfully assembled the sniper rifle, attached the suppressor, adjusted his position, and aimed at the dilapidated house where the Colombians were.
Through the scope, Dexter immediately had a clear view of the house and the backyard.
In the backyard, there was a bonfire. Three men and two women were doing something, looking very happy, big smiles on their faces.
Dexter moved the rifle slightly, observed, and found the reason for the scum's happiness.
Simple.
Beer and cocaine!
"Robbed my money and living it up, huh?" Dexter chuckled, then moved the rifle again, aiming at one of the men.
This man was one of the ones from the surveillance video...
The other one wasn't in the backyard; probably inside the house.
Dexter didn't rush to pull the trigger. He looked carefully at the house again.
The doors and windows were open, lights blazing inside. He could see several people moving around in the living room, clearly excited, probably high as kites.
Dexter observed patiently for several minutes. Finally, not only did he find the other Colombian robber, but he also waited for an opportunity.
The other robber walked out the back door and stood at the top of the stairs, shouting to the three men and two women in the yard.
The group in the yard was having an orgy by the fire.
The scene was truly disgusting.
Dexter took one look, felt nauseous thinking these guys were like uncivilized beasts, and immediately shifted his gaze. He aimed at the Colombian on the stairs, then checked the wind.
Wind was light.
No problem.
Dexter pulled the trigger.
The bullet flew.
A split second later.
Pop. The head of the Colombian on the stairs blossomed.
Dexter, having just chambered another round, saw this and grinned. 'Lucky. Headshot!'
Thinking this, Dexter didn't hesitate. He moved the muzzle, aimed at another target in the backyard, and pulled the trigger.
Didn't get a headshot this time, but still lucky. Because the target was "playing a game" with a woman, this single bullet penetrated two people...
Dexter was truly amused. Chambered another round, continue playing whack-a-mole.
Bang, bang, bang!
How good are the brains of people who love cocaine? Especially since the five in the backyard had just indulged, their reaction time and mobility were a complete mess.
In moments.
The three men and two women in the backyard were all finished.
It's worth mentioning that the men and women inside the house didn't notice a thing, still excitedly enjoying their beer and powder.
Dexter saw this.
Bye-bye to you all.
Dexter pulled the trigger again.
One, two, three...
Inside the house, it wasn't until three people next to them died in succession that the rest finally reacted. Sobering up a bit, they screamed and scrambled to flee.
Watching these scum scurrying around...
Dexter thought for a moment and decided to challenge himself. See if he could hit a moving target.
Bang.
Hit!
Another person in the house died.
The last three remaining Colombians couldn't take it anymore. Pissing their pants in terror, they howled and ran toward the front door to escape.
Seeing this, although he wanted to play more, Dexter immediately packed up the gun, picked up the shell casings, and left.
At this moment, the Merit Points arrived.
[Merit +2345, Merit +2536, Merit +2343...]
Taking out ten people in one go netted nearly 26,000 Merit Points.
Dexter smiled and went downstairs, got on the motorcycle, and rode leisurely toward a desolate wasteland.
At the wasteland, same old routine: change clothes, start a fire, burn the clothes and the bike.
After burning everything, wearing a mask and hat, Dexter walked to the edge of the wasteland.
There was a river here, looked pretty deep.
Dexter squatted, sighed, and unzipped the gun bag.
Although it was a pity to throw away such a good sniper rifle, better safe than sorry. It wouldn't be good to capsize in the gutter over a gun.
After sighing, Dexter got to work, throwing the disassembled parts of the sniper rifle into the river one by one.
He wore gloves the whole time, leaving no fingerprints, so no need to wipe anything down.
Spent some time disposing of the gun.
Dexter turned and walked toward the L train station.
Got on the train.
Checked the time.
Past 10:00 PM. Not too late.
[I'm done with work, on my way back. You?] Dexter took out his phone and texted Bianca.
[Me too. Just got home.] Bianca replied.
[Want to come see where I live?]
A few seconds later.
[Promise you won't make me late tomorrow morning!]
[^_^, Okay. See you soon.]
[See you soon.]
Putting away the phone, the train arrived at the station. Dexter got off, hailed a taxi, and headed to Bianca's apartment.
Picking up Bianca, the two returned to the hotel where Dexter was staying.
Arriving at the hotel entrance.
Bianca was surprised. "Aren't we going to your house?"
"This is my house for now. I've been living in this hotel for a while," Dexter smiled.
Bianca didn't understand. "Why live in a hotel? Don't you have a house?"
"Bought one a few days ago, it's being renovated... I think I forgot to tell you, I'm not from Chicago. Only came here a few months ago."
"..." Bianca looked at Dexter. "I realized I don't seem to know anything about you."
"Haha," Dexter laughed happily. "It's fine. Get to know me slowly. We have plenty of time."
Bianca nodded.
Dexter's room was quite large, about forty square meters, with a small living room.
Dumb Nine was sleeping on the sofa in the living room.
It wasn't too early anymore.
Dexter and Bianca went straight into the bedroom.
Before long, pleasant sounds rang out.
The night suddenly became a bit noisy.
In the living room, Dumb Nine opened his eyes, looked out the window, and missed New York.
As a War Dog, this place was kind of boring.
After reminiscing for a moment, Dumb Nine closed his eyes again and fell fast asleep.
In the bedroom.
Dexter and Bianca continued enjoying life.
Don't know how long passed.
Only then did they gradually drift off to sleep.