New Gods of North America.

Chapter 691 Scrap Metal Shop

"Boom!"

"Bam—"

"Clang, clang..."

Late at night, in the courtyard of a scrap metal shop in the dock area, the front and back doors of a two-story wooden house were kicked open simultaneously, and some windows on the first and second floors were also blasted open along with the walls.
Some shards and pieces of glass flew around, creating all sorts of strange noises.

Some members of the detective agency, armed with lever-action rifles, launched a separate assault, accompanied by Brother Merlin and his cathedral guards.
There were even more people on the perimeter, on guard and ready to provide support at any time. Even Inessa was holding a bolt-action rifle, guarding a small high point not far from the house, taking into account both offensive and defensive scenarios.

The term "scrap metal shop" refers to a shop that reprocesses ironware into everyday items.

They do buy back iron at low prices, but their main business is actually things like "turning tin cans into flat roofing sheets," "converting scrapped machinery parts into various tools or knives," and "removing rust and refurbishing old nails."
It's a business that allows people living in less affluent areas to indirectly enjoy the conveniences of industry.

Aside from sharing some "scrap metal recycling" characteristics, this business primarily earns hard-earned money. It involves daily hammering and banging, which is physically demanding, noisy, and the processing area is as chaotic as a factory workshop—it's hardly a high-end business.
However, after careful observation of the courtyard, it was found that the processing and sales shed in front, which looked like a small warehouse, was fine, while the two-story wooden house in the back, which was believed to be the residence of the shop owner, was much more luxurious inside than it appeared from the outside.

So, after examining the scene and considering the new information provided by the detective agency, Brother Merlin quickly agreed to launch a full-scale attack on the disguised stronghold.

This is no joke.

Even with discounts, the companions of a level 7 extraordinary individual should still be estimated based on levels 4, 5, and 6.

If it weren't for the hope of getting more clues, I would have just thrown in high explosives to blow up the fishpond.

The second floor has a rather spacious reception room, which severely compresses the living space of this small two-story wooden house. All the windows are covered with curtains. Inside, there is a sofa, a wine cabinet, a large writing desk, and the wall lighting fixtures are more densely packed than those in an ordinary home. It's at least as good as O'Sullivan's house in the Ellan gang.

Although the curtains look ordinary from the outside, their sheer thickness and ability to block out light cannot fool those in the know. Ordinary people in the dock area are not so extravagant as to hang this kind of fabric on the wall as winter clothing for the whole family.

Wayne, using the minimalist camera lens, scanned the meeting room in the darkness. He knew that no matter what happened tonight, it wouldn't be considered a "misjudgment" afterward. This was indeed a decoy outpost, and not just any ordinary henchman's.
The group entered one after another. The two agents in the lead already displayed the demeanor of special forces from later generations. One provided cover while the other broke in, and they filed forward in a staggered fashion. Wayne and the two monks assigned to this group followed behind. From the other side of the wall, they could hear the voice: "Don't move, hands up!"

Upon opening the meeting room door and entering the corridor, it became clear that the other two groups also seemed to have taken control of their respective rooms. A third group of members was peeking out from below in the stairwell.

Next to it was a real bedroom, the size of which was typical for the dock area, less than a third the size of the adjacent meeting room. There wasn't much furniture, and it looked like a dormitory. There was a guy lying there fully clothed, with a gun pointed at his head and being pressed against the wall.

Detectives were searching the man and disarming him; others were tying him up; some were using kerosene lamps with cloth curtains to provide light; and still others were turning on the existing lights in the house.

The Merlin monk still had faint, invisible sensory lines on his body, as if he were ready to "spark" at any moment.

cut,
It turns out this accomplice was a weakling.

"There's no one next door!"

"There's no one here!"

"There's another one downstairs!"

The agents, assigned to their respective groups, reported the situation. No further sounds of fighting were heard nearby. Wayne nodded and continued to keep an eye on the man in front of them, along with Brother Merlin.
Although it's not entirely reliable, staying on the second floor of the hideout seems like a slightly more luxurious option than sleeping on the first floor. His belongings were taken out one by one and placed on the bed beside him: a pistol, pocket watch, cigarette case, matches, and a wallet that wasn't too flat.

These days, pocket watches are basically a standard accessory for the middle class. However, some people who can barely make ends meet will prioritize saving money on them to show off their status. But the matches came from a strip club, and there was a small membership card for the club in the wallet. This is solid proof that they are not worried about food and clothing.

Wayne, while looking at the firelight and the various small cards he pulled from his wallet, asked indifferently:

"Name, identity, whose place this is, and why you are here."

"I……"

"What's your relationship with Jason Wohrtz?!"

“I don’t know the person you’re talking about. And I won’t tell you anything until the lawyer arrives.”

“Jason Wohrz ​​is…” Wayne almost blurted out the words “criminal extraordinary.”

Thinking it best to be cautious in front of the church members and not easily reveal anything about extraordinary individuals, he abruptly changed the subject:
“Jason Wohrz ​​has committed a series of murders in the dock area in the past few days, killing more than twenty people. Now there are witnesses who can attest that he was here after the incidents, and you are highly suspected of being an accomplice.”

"Given the special circumstances of the dock area and the severity of the case, this case may not be tried in public, and you may not have the opportunity to see a lawyer."

Wayne wasn't bluffing; when it comes to extraordinary beings of this rank, the Church should have appropriate procedures for handling such matters.
Even if it gets published in the newspapers afterward, readers will probably only know that a series of murders occurred in the dock area, and then sigh that "the dock area is really chaotic" or "the police are really incompetent."

"I demand to see my lawyer!" the other party persisted.

What's the point of wasting time? You have a membership card in your wallet; the church or police can just call over some staff and ask them for your name and identity.

The detective agency has an informant who can be considered a third party to testify. If that white-masked man really came here tonight, even a zero-confession statement can't overcome the chain of evidence, and you can't escape responsibility.

“I am the vice-captain of the cathedral guard; you can call me Brother Merlin. There are some things you can say to me,”

At this moment, Brother Merlin spoke up, slightly pulling down his collar to reveal the special holy emblem beneath his casual robes. He also made a gesture, and several monks surrounded him, signaling the detective agency's personnel to make way. "We will keep confidential any information unrelated to the case for the believers."

Wayne, sensing the situation was under control and there was no danger, let the agents leave the room with him, giving them some privacy.

As Wayne closed the bedroom door, he was about to go check on the guy who had been caught on the first floor when he heard a muffled groan of pain coming from inside the room.

Holy crap, a powerful memory recovery technique...

This approach of first being courteous and then firm, combining gentleness and strength, is quite befitting of the status and rank of the cathedral guard.

Wayne had little sympathy for uncooperative and highly suspicious individuals like this, so he whistled and continued downstairs.

Those people in big companies have strong connections; good kids shouldn't follow their example.
Unless it's dealing with someone who could be executed on the spot without being considered excessive.

(End of this chapter)