Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

Ethan tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "Got it, then what?"

Howard paused:

"Then you just wait and see. Wait until some greenhorn blasts the officers from the police station next to your hotel with rockets, and their heads fly into your room's floor-to-ceiling window!"

Seeing Howard's angry expression, Wayne realized that Howard was a real gangster, not one of those hypocritical city councilors.

Although sometimes the difference between the two is not that big.

Ethan remained calm, leaving Howard's anger unfulfilled.

"Old Dog, you're overthinking it. This operation wasn't targeting him. He did seem to want to do something for the poor people in the East District. It's just that a heretic frequently attended his sermons before committing suicide, so we asked him about it. Of course, to prevent interference from certain unforeseen circumstances, our methods were indeed a bit harsh, but there was no other way."

Hearing that Joseph was likely alright, Howard's anger subsided somewhat. He beckoned to his female secretary outside the door and gestured for her to bring a stack of envelopes. The envelopes were bulging and clearly filled with hundred-dollar federal dollars.

Howard pushed the envelope toward Ethan, his tone becoming calmer:

"I never expected it would be related to his speech. But we older generation support him a lot. This large-scale development of the East District New Town absolutely cannot be just about banks and the city hall sharing the profits. If they don't know how to divide the pie, then forget about moving that piece of land in the East District."

Ethan wasn't interested in banks or city halls; he simply pressed the envelope with his hand, making a mental assessment, and casually said, "Alright, thanks for your hard work."

Wei En understood.

It turns out that Joseph's speech was tacitly approved by the underworld, and the legitimate authorities, due to the firepower of the underworld, could not directly intervene. They wanted to find an opportunity to bypass the underworld to promote the development of the East District New City, just to give the underworld less of a share of the profits.

Joseph's speeches against the opening of the new buildings in the East End didn't seem fake either.

It can only be said that each of these groups has its own agenda.

Howard, looking somewhat serious, continued:

"The cake of the East District New Town not only needs to be made, but it needs to be made very big. Similarly, the cake needs to be divided well. This city needs order, and only I can truly maintain this order. Once order is broken, the city will fall into chaos, and things will inevitably spiral out of control. You understand better than I do that chaos is more likely to attract those unspeakable things."

Does chaos attract the indescribable?

Wayne fell into deep thought, but the speech in the booklet, Bob's situation when he committed suicide, and the contamination caused to me by the C-class alien, all seemed to have nothing to do with chaos, but rather with despair.

Is merely maintaining a superficial order truly considered protecting the city?

"I have a question, Mayor Howard. I've been to the South District twice. The living conditions there are appalling, and people lack basic necessities, making them extremely prone to despair. Considering the situation of that heretic before his suicide, isn't despair more likely to lead to the unspeakable?" Wayne asked tentatively, mustering his courage.

This probe is very important.

If the next two investigations are to focus on despair, then it is essential to clarify at the fundamental level whether Mayor Howard is friend or foe, and what his stance is.

"Despair..." Howard lit a cigar and fell into a brief silence.

Ethan then picked up the stack of envelopes on the table and waved them in front of Wayne:

"Hey, let's go. Don't bother with this old dog. It's not easy for him to be so dedicated to maintaining order in Michigan. We just need to complete our mission. Everything else is a mess, and getting involved will only lead to more trouble."

Seeing that Howard didn't answer, Wayne nodded and followed Ethan out the door.

Just as Wayne and Ethan were about to leave, Howard's voice came from behind them:

"I really can't agree with the views of your military or the Special Affairs Bureau. For me, order is everything. Only with order can despair be completely eliminated."

So, they're still on the opposite side after all?

Isn't the old order also a source of despair?

Wayne paused for a moment, said nothing more, and followed Ethan out of the office and into the lobby of the Black Gold Bar.

The hall was sparsely populated, except for the area around the underground boxing ring in the center, which was relatively lively.

Although it was afternoon, we still ordered a few main dishes: pan-fried pork chops with apple sauce, thick-cut corned beef sandwiches, and crab cream tarts, to make up a cohesive dinner.

Ethan slammed the envelope he was holding onto the table:

"That's a lot of money, probably over a hundred thousand Federal Dollars, plus several shopping cards of considerable value. Based on my estimate, it should be close to a million Federal Dollars. How so? We'll help him solve the problem and guarantee Joseph will be fine; he'll give us a tip. Why not take it?"

Wayne's eyes were strange: "So you often act alone without Lillian and the team leader?"

Ethan reached out and touched his nose:

"No way, Lillian isn't good at human combat, but I am. You can think of it as related to the contamination properties we have. As for the team leader, he doesn't like to use his position for money. But honestly, we often risk our lives to investigate all sorts of unusual cases, involving complex social relationships. If we take this little bit of money, the higher-ups will turn a blind eye."

"Take it, I don't need the money. My sister gave me a sufficient amount of savings and checks." Wayne did not take the envelope.

"Okay, I almost forgot your family is rich. Thanks." Ethan took the envelope back.

Wayne recalled what he had seen in the office and finally asked the question that had been on his mind:

"There's a tall, thin old man standing in Howard's office. Do you know why?"

Ethan thought for a moment and replied:

"That old man is special. He possesses polluting properties and is probably well over a hundred years old. Howard paid a high price to hire him as a henchman. However, I don't know the old man's strength. To judge his strength, I need to know his scores in each of the six dimensions."

"If he's not in the Special Affairs Bureau, where did his special abilities come from?" Wayne continued to ask.

"Haha, I don't know about that. Maybe he was some kind of heretic who survived by sheer luck. There are always some things that can't be explained. It's perfectly normal for someone as powerful as Howard, who lives in the shadows, to have one or two secret trump cards," Ethan said.

"Yes, I understand." Wayne's mind was racing.

It turns out that the current Special Affairs Bureau is far from being able to explain everything.

...

The boxing match was still going on in the center of the bar, with cheers and bets coming one after another.

Wayne and Ethan were seated in a good spot, and the two chatted about the match in the ring while they ate.

Ethan became very interested when talking about underground boxing, constantly analyzing the moves of both fighters in the ring, dissecting their punching strategies, and figuring out which rounds they would hold back, which gangs might be indirectly giving money to the legitimate authorities, etc.

Looking at the intense, fierce, and deadly underground boxing ring, Wayne couldn't help but wonder if he would be able to fight against the experienced boxers on the stage now if he had selected "Sports" back then.

Ethan goes without saying; he once struck fear into the hearts of all the major gangs in the Federation, so he would have no problem facing these boxers.

What about the other colleagues in the Special Affairs Bureau?

Wayne recalled the Special Bureau's evaluation system, which has six dimensions, the first two being "strength" and "agility".

If the scores in these two dimensions are high, the level of combat skills must be extremely high.

"I'll bring you to underground boxing next time. It's all life-or-death combat here, which can really unleash your potential," Ethan suggested.

"Sure, I like excitement." Wayne added in his mind: I can fight in underground boxing, but only after I add some [exercise] to my training.

They finished their meal in a casual, half-hearted manner, and at Ethan's insistence, he insisted on dining and dashing, saying that old dog Howard wouldn't mind.

[Feeding Lv.1 - Digestion] Progress: 29.1%

...

evening.

Wayne and Ethan returned to the Ritz Hotel and inquired with their intelligence colleagues about the progress of Joseph's interrogation.

Joseph was still being interrogated by the intelligence unit in the interrogation room of the Southern District Police Station.

However, the interrogation was nearing its end, and no obvious suspicious points were found.

Besides Joseph, some bartenders, regulars, and gang members at Hofhouse were also "invited" to the South District Police Station for questioning.

Presumably, further clues about Bob's death and the origin of that face symbol will soon emerge.

The Ritz Hotel, 32nd floor, Special Investigations Section 7.

Matthew has returned from the Special Affairs Bureau headquarters in Walden, the capital of the Federation, and met up with Wayne, Ethan, and Lillian.

Wayne sat at his desk in the office, listening to Matthew recount the latest news from the Special Affairs Bureau headquarters.

Matthew's gaze swept over the three of them, and he said seriously:

"One good news, one bad news."