York glanced at the scene behind Officer Beck.
"Why do you say that?"
Hearing this, Officer Beck looked up towards the crowd opposite, where a group of young men were watching. He shrugged and said, "A member of the Vance gang died inside, shot once in the right hand, once in the chest, and once in the forehead. Such precise marksmanship means the killer came prepared, probably targeting the Vance gang."
At this point, York felt a sigh of relief, although he didn't know what the deal was with the right hand, but a shot in the chest and forehead was exactly the Mozambique Drill that Old Brown had told him about.
The essence of this technique is to quickly hit the enemy's torso with two shots to temporarily immobilize them, and then finish with a headshot. This can quickly neutralize the enemy and control the situation. In gaming terms, it's like hitting the enemy's stun before delivering a fatal critical hit.
"It seems Old Brown must have acted alone, his identity still carries some element of surprise."
While York was thinking this, Officer Beck's next words also followed.
"The Vance gang might be small, but the person backing their boss is from New York's Grizzly Gang. The members inside are as united as the Grizzly Gang. Today they lost a member, they will definitely investigate the killer thoroughly. Do you think it will cause chaos when these two meet?"
The Grizzly Gang? Hearing this gang name again, York's eyelids darkened.
Officer Beck kept talking, not noticing the change in York's expression. He continued, "So, it's going to be chaotic around here for a while. Although they probably won't do anything to a priest, it's still better if you stay cautious. A messed-up mind won't care about your identity…"
Officer Beck said, tapping his temple with his finger, full of mocking yet genuine advice.
York smiled and nodded.
"I will, Officer Beck. Thanks for the advice."
But Officer Beck was serious, "No need to thank me, Father. I don't want to see my wife without a place to pray. It's the only day I can relax and rest…"
York's mouth twitched, about to say something, but then someone called out to Officer Beck from behind.
"Beck!! Beck!!"
York decided to hold back what he was going to say.
"My boss is calling me, Father. I'll go first." Officer Beck looked back and left, but not before once again offering his advice.
"Father, remember it's better not to pass by here for the time being."
"I will."
Watching Officer Beck walk inside, York's expression remained unchanged. He glanced at the crowd on the right side of the car, like Officer Beck, he also saw a group of young men.
But unlike Beck, he recognized a few people he had seen with Old Brown that day.
"It's actually people from the Grizzly Gang…"
York shook his head, shifted gears, and drove towards Old Brown's house, feeling more relaxed than before.
Old Brown, after all, was a retired soldier.
Holding onto this thought, York soon arrived at the bottom of Old Brown's house.
The overall security here was much better than the place they were just at.
Surprisingly, there were no lights on in Old Brown's house.
Nevertheless, York decided to get out of the car and walked to the door, ringing the doorbell next to it.
The bell rang, but there was no response from inside.
"Where has Old Brown gone now? Not gone on another stakeout, has he?"
After pressing the bell again with no response, York reluctantly returned to his car, took out a piece of paper and a pen to leave a note in an envelope, then forcefully stuffed it through the door's bottom slit.
That was all he could do for now. Without any information, looking for Old Brown was like groping in the dark.
York glanced at the house one last time before returning to his car and slowly driving away.
Considering the matter of the Grizzly Gang and Old Brown, he decided to start investigating this so-called Vance gang from today. It's better to be prepared.
Buzz! The black Ford Raptor, under the illumination of its headlights dispersing the darkness, drove further away.
However, what York didn't know was that Old Brown had quietly arrived at a small alley opposite a bar. He had his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the bar's entrance.
In the old man's eyes, there were not many people outside the bar at this moment.
After a while, he looked at his old watch, and it was 23:13.
"Sigh…"
The old man moved his body a bit, stopped after his breathing became rapid.
Just then, a young man, thinner than Willie whom they had encountered before, came out of the bar and staggered to the right.
"Target spotted, named Bild, responsible for drug transactions." Old Brown shrugged his shoulders, recalling as he followed.
Those scumbags shouting in the sewers had already exposed a lot of information.
Including names and statuses.
The person named Bild, being followed, held the highest position because those scumbags' attitude towards him was clearly hierarchical.
Importantly, every transaction was managed by this guy.
Using his inconspicuous identity, the old man had been following him for a long time, and now he finally caught him alone. But his goal wasn't to kill; it was to cut off the gang's financial resources while eliminating this guy.
According to common sense, a small drug-dealing gang must have a place for storing or dispatching goods.
Thinking this, Old Brown watched Bild, who was staggering ahead, unawares of the follower behind. His expression became determined; he was ready to face death this time.
Thus, one young man staggered ahead while an old man slowly followed behind.
They bypassed the bustling streets and eventually arrived at a secluded area, deserted and littered with trash.
Old Brown followed from a distance, glancing at the surroundings, knowing from experience that they were nearing their destination.
As expected, the target suddenly turned into an alley.
Old Brown grabbed the handgun in his pocket, hurried after him.
Just as he reached the edge of the alley, he saw the target enter a low building on the right, closing the door behind him before he could approach.
"It must be here."
Looking at the one-story building, Old Brown took a few deep breaths to calm his chest tightness and walked into the alley.
As he approached, Old Brown, thinking of something, took out his P365 handgun and quietly dropped it at the edge of the alley wall, then walked towards the closed iron door of the low building.
Upon reaching the door, Old Brown instinctively took a deep breath, then knocked on the iron door, standing quietly in place.
After a few seconds, there was movement inside, and Old Brown heard several clicks from the door. Then, a small crack opened, revealing a face.
It was Bild, who had just gone inside. He looked out with a wary expression, frowning at Old Brown as if he had expected an old man to be standing there.
"Old man, what do you want?"