At the edge of the city, a layer of dusky gray twilight settled over the park entrance. The wind gently swept across the grass, carrying the damp scent of earth and the faint odor of decaying leaves. Dempsey stood beside Bruce, his brows furrowed.
“A homeless man?” he murmured, his voice filled with uncertainty. “A homeless man who used to work as a labor broker for Chinese students?”
Bruce nodded slightly, gazing at the figures huddled beneath the benches in the distance, his expression calm. “You should know that they’re familiar with the garbage truck collection schedule here and know where to avoid patrol officers at night. The key is, they hide too well—no one would truly care about an unknown homeless person.”
Dempsey fell silent for a moment. Memories from his days as a detective
