Strauss imdiately knew that this "Max" was a separate individual. Even though they had the sa face, he was certain... this "Max" was definitely a different person from Maximilian.
But when he saw that "Max" was listed as the twin brother of the suspect, Maximilian, Strauss felt a wave of incredulity. How could such a harmless, ordinary-looking guy be the twin brother of Maximilian? If soone had told him they were the sa person before he saw the picture, he would have believed it.
Strauss didn't second-guess; he imdiately responded to the email, instructing the Citizenship Registration Center to approve both brothers. Since Maximilian and Max lived in the sa house, he could use Max to get to Maximilian.
If their suspicions—that Maximilian might be Blood Mongoose's protégé—were true, then it was likely Maximilian wouldn't be ho very often. Hell, even the address on his registry could be fake.
But a normal guy like Max Sterling Graham? He'd be much easier to track. He'd likely use his real address. If Maximilian turns out to be a villain or a threat to the UEC, then Strauss could use Max to get to him.
With that matter settled Strauss continued his work. There was still a mountain of things to do today, especially after the break-in by that mysterious thief last night. He needed to oversee security checks and maybe interrogate a few crooked employees who might have sold their security credentials on the black market.
Strauss worked ticulously through the day until the sun dipped low. It was now 5 PM.
"Hello, Mr. Strauss. I'm not late, am I?" ca an old voice with a southern drawl. Strauss, who had been overseeing the lobby security at the IHB building, turned toward the sound.
It was none other than Old Cowboy, the man Strauss had requested to escort him to Blood Mongoose's daughter's safe house. The old man had known Blood Mongoose personally and was familiar with him, making Old Cowboy the ideal choice.
"No, Mr. Blackwood, you arrived just in ti," Strauss replied, shaking his hand firmly.
The two of them got into the armored UEC service vehicle and drove toward the city's outskirts.
After 15 minutes of driving, they arrived. The surrounding neighborhood was quiet and sowhat desolate. The area wasn't connected to the slums near the Fringe Gate. Instead, it bordered the agricultural zone—Agro-Towers, massive, tower-like farms where crops were grown vertically.
There were many such towers in the farming sector of the city. Most farms were under corporate control, with only 20% managed by the UEC. Corporations didn't like outsiders snooping around, which explained the sparse population.
The people who did live in the area mostly worked for farming corporations and had moved into corporate dorms near the farm complexes, leaving many of the houses here abandoned.
"These houses are mostly abandoned. Hope our girl didn't end up living in one of those corporate dorms," Old Cowboy remarked in his usual southern drawl, eyeing the state of the abandoned hos in the area.
"That's impossible, Mr. Blackwood. According to UEC protocol, the family of a top contributor receives a substantial pension from the UEC until death. And I can assure you, that pension is at least twice the salary of a regular worker at a farming company," Strauss replied as he drove, eyes focused on the road.
"Besides..." he continued, "any change in address must be reported imdiately by whichever party made the change. If the company she works for tried to move her into a dorm, they'd be required to report it to the UEC. That would trigger an inspection of the new residence. Blood Mongoose was one of the top contributors to UEC stability. He received the best from the UEC. His family is entitled to the sa."
"It's near," Strauss added, glancing at the GPS as it indicated they were approaching the target location.
When they arrived, the house before them was in a state of neglect. Shrubs, vines, and trees had overgrown, nearly swallowing the building. The grass was uncut, wild, and the walls were covered in thick vines.
"I don't think anyone's been here for a long ti," Old Cowboy muttered, stepping out of the car to inspect the surroundings.
"No... That shouldn't be possible. This is..." Strauss trailed off, disbelief in his voice as he followed him out of the car.
The two n cautiously walked toward the house, wading through the tall grass. But just before they reached the entrance, a silhouette erged from the doorway.
A man stepped out, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans with short leather boots. The shirt clung to his muscular fra, and his eagle-like eyes locked directly onto Strauss and Old Cowboy, his gaze sharp and intimidating. In his hand, he held a small paper bag bearing the logo of an expensive cake shop.
"Maximilian Sterling Graham..." Strauss said the na stiffly, unsure of the man's intentions—whether he was friend or foe. "Why are you here?" he asked suspiciously.
— Maximilian POV —
After I trained Ricardo and his group all morning, I told them to head back early because I had so business to attend to. I needed to keep my promise to that Blood Mongoose guy—I planned to visit his daughter's safe house.
I freshened up, changed into so casual clothes, and looked at my wardrobe.
"Yeah... I don't have any formal wear... maybe I should find so ti to buy a suit," I muttered after seeing the state of my wardrobe.
[Huh? Oh! Are we going shopping!? That's great! When!? ヽ(〃＾▽＾〃)ﾉ]
"Why are you so excited? You act like we're going on a date," I replied, deadpan.
[(๑>ᴗ
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