The night wind blew through the cracks in the dilapidated warehouse wall, stirring up a pile of scattered paper scraps. The air was filled with the smell of cheap paint, mold, and burning gasoline, creating an oppressive atmosphere.
Bruce stood silently outside the door, his fingertips tapping the gunstock without a sound.
He had spent the entire afternoon clearing out the drugs, money, and body from the deceased's home. Morray had been sent ahead to investigate Merrick's background. The boy came from the slums and had his own network for gathering information.
As expected, as soon as it grew dark, Morray returned with a serious expression: “Bruce boss, we have a lead.”
“Speak.”
“The victim was Merrick, the second-in-command of a small gang called The Latch Crew. The gang has fewer th
