Feeling Santiago's warnings, old Smith behaved like a nervous elder and cautiously said, "I heard that in this place, you have some things, you know, things you do business with."
Santiago seemed to want to discern the intentions of the old man in front of him, so he stared at him for a good while. Meanwhile, the expression of old Smith remained unchanged, only revealing his interest in trading.
Seeing this, Santiago tilted his head to the side, closed the small door flap directly, and did not say a word.
Old Smith's expression cooled, but he had no intention of moving from this place, so he stayed put.
The identity of the old man could lower the guard of these people and, at the same time, lend a certain degree of authenticity to his words.
What do people selling something illegal need the most? They require a constant flow of strange people bringing them money, much like a banker who only charges a management fee.
They are not afraid of the people they work with, as long as they are something they can control. So, these people shouldn't be afraid of someone like him buying their products, as they wouldn't fear him. After all, what can an old man do?
After waiting for a few seconds with no movement inside, due to that desperation, old Smith extended his hand, intending to touch the iron door. But before his hand could reach the door, it opened after a few more seconds.
"What business do you want to do here, old man?" This time, another person opened the door; unlike Santiago, the man who opened the door was very thin and seemed to be under the influence of drugs.
The dark circles under his eyes and the scar-covered upper body exposed what kind of person this man was.
Old Smith feigned ignorance and said straightforwardly, "Those things you're selling, I heard I can buy whatever I want by just coming to this place."
The man leaning against the iron door twisted his neck unnaturally and scratched his neck. "How much do you want to buy?"
Old Smith didn't hesitate this time; he didn't state how much he wanted to buy but opted for a very general statement. "A large quantity; I'm a very generous old man."
"A large quantity?" The man against the iron door stopped scratching and looked at Old Smith to confirm. "Sure?"
Old Smith nodded.
Seeing this, the person next to the iron door looked behind Old Smith, then opened the iron door fully and nodded towards the inside for him to enter. "Come on, old man, step inside."
Seeing he had been granted entry, Old Smith smiled and walked very calmly inside.
As soon as he entered, a gun suddenly appeared from the right and was pressed directly against his temple.
Old Smith's expression remained unchanged; he only raised his hands and glanced to the right out of the corner of his eye, where there were three people, a sturdy man and three thin men, and the wielder of the gun was Santiago.
"Haha, I guess I made them quite nervous. As I said a few minutes ago, I just want to buy what they're selling in this place." However, these people didn't respond; instead, they looked at the person who closed the iron door again.
"Santiago, there's no one." Feeling the gaze, the person who closed the door scratched his head nervously.
At this point, the one who spoke was the sturdy man named Erick: "Lower the gun, Santiago; this old man is a customer."
Santiago stared at Old Smith for a few more seconds before lowering the gun.
Old Smith also carefully lowered his raised hands and looked directly at the sturdy man inside. For some reason, he knew that this man had more authority than Santiago, but he had never seen him before.
"A foreigner..."
Before old Smith could process the details around him, Santiago inside observed him for a few seconds, took out a small bag of white powder from his arms, and asked in a questioning tone, "Hey old man, do you want to buy something like this?"
Old Smith instantly regained his senses, ignoring the four thin men surrounding him, including Erick in the background, and nodding silently.
Seeing this, Santiago grinned amusingly and said, "I don't care if you want it; just don't consume it here because I don't want you to die of a heart attack... Anyway, show me how much you've got."
After saying this, the four people who had been surrounding old Smith suddenly took a step forward; two of the four halted their movements, and the other two patted his body.
Although old Smith remained calm, there was a hint of impatience on his face, as if he despised what these criminals, whom he was about to kill, were doing.
"I'm serious. If you don't want to sell, I'll leave immediately."
Santiago said nothing and watched as his two men responsible for the search found only two thick envelopes with money.
"Are you trying to rob this poor old man? My boy, this is not the way to do business. You'll scare away many customers with your rough way of working."
Upon hearing this, Santiago looked at old Smith, signaled to his men who had finished patting down, took the two envelopes in his hands, then opened the seals of each envelope and took out the money inside to take a look. After completing this step, Santiago looked at Old Smith and asked, "Do you want to buy this much?"
"That's my intention, but each time, I'm closer to just retiring."
Old Smith's tone was more hostile this time, demonstrating his obvious authority as an old man who has lived his life. As he spoke, Old Smith pointed at the gun in Santiago's hand.
"I'd also be delighted to buy a weapon like yours." Santiago put the two envelopes in his hands and continued questioning. "What do you, a dying old man, want with these things?"
Old Smith knew this was the moment, so he took a deep breath and said, "Drugs are to experience being high; the gun will be to end my life once I've tested the effects of the drug."
He said this calmly, causing everyone present to raise their eyebrows and look at the old man in surprise.
"Haha, damn lunatic..." Santiago laughed and instructed the people behind him to release the old man. "Suicidal old man, I like you; come with me."
The rest of the thin guys also looked at Old Smith and followed their boss.
With a calm expression, Smith surveyed the surrounding area and followed the steps of this group of people until he figured out what was going on.
As a result, this movement surprised him, and his murderous intent towards the people in front of him grew stronger.
The building he was in was an ordinary low-rise building, but it was certainly not as ordinary as it seemed. He thought there must be something inside, but he never thought what he would find would be so cruel.
There were small rooms on both sides made of wooden planks; each small room only had a cloth hanging from a rope, serving as a door that blocked the view.
But the details were so crude that they couldn't hide anything at all. Through the gap, old Smith could see girls lying or sitting one after another, with different outfits and obviously different nationalities.
Some were sitting there in a state of confusion, and others simply lay there like a silent corpse.
Some had disheveled hair and couldn't be seen in the face; with their heads raised and motionless, they seemed to be dead.
Others simply stared at him as he passed by, with no light in their eyes.
There were even people who were being practically abused.
It was shocking. The older Smith looked, the more he couldn't bear to contain his anger. The rage in his gaze grew stronger, so much so that his entire face stiffened a bit.
Judging by the restraints and syringes on the ground, Old Smith knew that these women had been drugged and then used as commodities for sale by these people.