You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

The back room of Ray's Barber Shop on Fourth Avenue in Seattle.

Big T was sitting with his legs crossed in his large boss's chair, holding an anonymous cell phone that he usually used to receive business, and nodding repeatedly.

"No problem, sir. William McIntyre, a white man in his sixties, a homeless man. As long as he's still breathing on the streets of Seattle, I can find him."

"I'll pay $30,000 for the person and $5,000 for accurate leads. That's a fair price. I'll call this number immediately if I have any information."

Big T hung up the phone, threw it on the table, his face scrunched up, and his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

"William what what? Who the hell is that? I've never heard of him before."

Big T leaned back in his chair, took an orange from the fruit basket on the table, and started peeling it.

A $30,000 reward for catching a homeless person seems like a windfall. But the problem is, there are at least tens of thousands of homeless people in Seattle, scattered under bridges, in shelters, and in the sewers. Where are you going to find one?

He turned his head and peeked outside through the slightly ajar door.

In the front of the barbershop, his core henchmen were busy dividing a newly arrived batch of goods into small packages, while a few peripheral underlings were rushing to take the goods to the street corner to distribute to drug addicts.

Big T sighed.

With only a few dozen capable people under his command, he was already struggling to keep up with the drug distribution and protection money collection on just two streets.

Where would we find the extra manpower to search through trash cans all over the streets for an old white man named Old Bill?

It looks like I can take on this job, but I can't do it.

Big T smacked his lips, and suddenly, a name popped into his head.

Lyon Vance.

That's right! This big shot is the head of the police station's special operations team!

Isn't it much easier for the police to find people than for these street thugs? They have surveillance cameras, facial recognition, and can even directly check the registration list of relief stations in the system.

If this deal were told to Lyon, and he were to find the person, given the officer's greedy nature, he certainly wouldn't let this extra money slip by.

As the middleman providing the intelligence, I can get a share of the profits, earning a 20% commission on the information. I can make several thousand dollars for free without having my subordinates run themselves ragged. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Big T thought about it more and more and felt that the idea was brilliant. He immediately picked up his usual cell phone and dialed Lyon's number.

……

Meanwhile, Leon, who had just settled Arthur in his luxury apartment, answered the phone.

"Hey bro! There's a quick buck job out there, wanna do it?"

Big T's excited voice came through the receiver:

"An executive from a big company just contacted me, offering a $30,000 reward for information leading to a homeless man named William McIntyre, nicknamed Old Bill."

"Even a clue can be worth several thousand dollars! Why don't you check the police system? It's free money!"

"If you find it, you can keep the lion's share of the reward, just leave me a small tip..."

Upon hearing the name "William McIntyre," Leon's fingers tightened slightly as he held his phone.

Holy crap.

His brain instantly went into high-speed operation.

William McIntyre? Bill Gates? Raytheon's security department has actually tracked down to the homeless level? And they've even started mobilizing street gangs to find him?

Could it be that my plan to sneak into that house and retrieve the hard drive has been exposed?

wrong.

Lyon took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

If Raytheon's security department or the FBI had indeed locked onto him, it wouldn't be Big T calling now, but a fully armed tactical assault team coming to his door.

The fact that they are still using gangster channels and offering bounties as a broad-net search method can only mean one thing:

They discovered the data theft, but completely lost track of the trail, not knowing where Old Bill had gone or who had the data.

They are blind.

Having grasped this logic, Lyon's heartbeat calmed down.

"Well done, Big T," Leon said calmly into the phone.

"Huh? Boss, what's so great about it? I just answered a phone call..." Big T was completely bewildered. He had only provided a bounty, how could it be considered a great job?

"You have a bright future, Big T. Really, a very promising one." Leon ignored his doubts and continued to speak in that admiring tone.

Big T was even more confused, scratching his head repeatedly:

"No... Boss, did you hurt your head in the fight just now? What exactly is so promising about you?"

"So, are we still going to do this bounty? You can raise the profit-sharing percentage again; I'll take 10%..."

"I understand. You don't need to worry about it."

Lyon didn't answer his question, but changed the subject:

"I have something else I need to discuss with you, but I'm a bit busy lately. I'll come to your hair salon in person after my vacation ends in a few days."

"Oh? You want to talk to me about something?"

Big T was completely baffled, and his voice even carried a hint of fear, "Boss, I really haven't done anything wrong recently. That time I gave away turkeys was purely for charity..."