CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER 63: CURLED HAIR (VOTE AND FOLLOW!)

"First, I need all the exorcists in my Exorcism Agency to be legally armed and permitted to use their firearms during exorcisms."

"That’s simple. As long as firearms aren’t used in sensitive locations leading to innocent casualties, I can agree to that right now. No problem."

"Second, I will establish a small armory and a firearms training ground within the Exorcism Agency."

"Wait a minute! A small armory? What are you planning to do?"

"Don’t get excited, Boris! It’s just for storing some modified firearms and ammunition for exorcism, like salt rounds, Rune Bullets, and similar items."

"Hmm... I’ll need to consult my superiors about this, but it should be possible to get approval."

"Third, I need the police to provide information support. Bizarre cases the police can’t solve can be referred to my Exorcism Agency."

"That will be a lot of cases! Can you handle them all?"

"Don’t worry. My agency is undergoing expansion, and we’ll soon have enough manpower!"

"Alright, I’ll submit this condition as well."

"The fourth condition..."

Before he could finish, Boris hastily interrupted Chu Feng.

"What! There are more conditions?"

"Relax, this is the last one! It’s just an additional thirty million US dollars!"

Upon hearing this, Boris snapped the notebook in his hands shut.

"That amount is impossible! You’ve already made so many demands; the higher-ups are unlikely to agree to so much compensation."

"Don’t get excited, Boris, the price is negotiable! Just report it, and then we’ll see how much they’re willing to offer."

Is that really possible? Boris, who had never experienced anything like this, looked skeptical.

"Trust me, just do it!"

Only after watching Boris write down the fourth condition in his notebook did Chu Feng relax.

Having finished his business and standing up to leave, an idea suddenly popped into Chu Feng’s mind.

"Boris, that person who impersonated Chief Pierce—he stayed in the chief’s office for several days, didn’t he?"

"That’s right. None of us realized it at the time. I remember even having an argument with him!"

Just as Boris was about to pick up his notebook to make a report, he paused at Chu Feng’s words.

"So, has his office been cleaned these past few days?"

"No, it hasn’t. That place has been sealed off. The evidence collection department had already thoroughly searched it, but unfortunately, they didn’t find anything useful."

"Did they find any of that person’s hair?" Chu Feng’s eyes gleamed upon hearing the office had been searched.

"Indeed, they found hair! Sadly, though, our database has no record of that person."

"Could you give me a strand?"

"What do you want that for? Wait, how did you find the cult’s stronghold last time? Did you use a cult member’s hair?"

Boris looked at Chu Feng in shock, his amazement at the Exorcist’s methods growing.

"That’s a trade secret. I’m afraid I can’t disclose it!"

"Alright, wait here. I’ll go request a strand of that person’s hair for you. However, if you go after them, the police will need to accompany you."

"That won’t be necessary, will it? It should be enough if I deal with him for you." Chu Feng didn’t want the police to witness how he punished the culprit.

"Chu Feng, the Chief of the New York Police Department, was killed in his home while in office. The entire department’s reputation is at stake! We must solve the case quickly to answer to the government and the public."

Looking at Boris’s grim expression, Chu Feng could only nod helplessly.

"Fine then! But I can only hand over someone who’s barely breathing—is that okay?"

"No need to bring him back alive! Just make sure the last shot is fired by the police!"

Boris’s words left Chu Feng somewhat stunned. He then remembered this was America, the land of the free! The infamous police tactic of emptying the magazine here is no joke!

More than ten minutes later, Boris, holding an evidence bag, pushed open the office door and walked in.

"Here, this is it!"

Inside the transparent PE evidence bag, a single, curly hair lay alone.

Chu Feng immediately opened the evidence bag, took out the hair, and placed it in his palm.

With a thought, the icon for Intermediate Tracking Technique on the system panel lit up instantly.

The curly hair in Chu Feng’s palm vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

In his mind, a vague cursor instantly appeared in the distance.

"It worked!" Chu Feng said, a faint hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes as he looked at the mental cursor. "Now, go find someone to follow me!"

"No need. Sara and I will accompany you!"

As he spoke, Boris pulled a familiar figure in from beside the door.

"Long time no see, Chu Feng!"

"Long time no see! Since everyone’s here, we should get going!"

With that, an impatient Chu Feng, not waiting for their reaction, pushed open the office door and strode out.

"Boss, why does Chu Feng seem to hate that bastard even more than we do?" Sara asked, looking questioningly at Boris as she watched Chu Feng’s eager departure.

"Maybe that bastard did something to completely infuriate this Exorcist!" Boris replied, shrugging as he recalled the scene in front of the hospital.

Soon, having caught up with Chu Feng and changed into their gear, the three of them, under Chu Feng’s direction, hopped into a police car and set off.

「Across from Queens Central Hospital, in an old residential building.」

"Mrs. Mattis, please take it easy! Where are you off to now?"

In the hallway, a young man who had just stepped out saw an elderly lady with white hair and a deeply lined face shuffling past him, struggling with each step.

Seeing her hunched form, trembling even as she leaned on her cane, he feared she might fall and quickly rushed forward to support her.

"Me? I have some trash at home that needs to be thrown out, so I headed out early! By the way, who are you?"

The old lady lifted her clouded eyes, looking at the young man’s face and his hands supporting her under her arms.

"Mrs. Mattis, I’m Paul. Haven’t you taken your medication again? Remember to take the medicine the doctor prescribed when you get back, or your dementia will worsen."

With the help of this clearly talkative young man, the two soon arrived at an old iron door.

Seeing the old woman turn her head to give him a wary look, Paul gave a wry smile, shook his head, and stepped back a few paces.

"Alright, Mrs. Mattis! Since you’re home now, I’ll be on my way. Oh, and please remember to throw out the rotten things in your house; it’s already starting to smell faintly!"

Upon hearing the young man’s words, the old woman froze in front of the iron door.