The man's body stiffened instantly. How did the other party know what he was about to do? No—how did they know there was a gun hidden inside his cabinet?
"You said you wanted to ask a few questions? Alright, let's hear them first," he said, trying to steady the situation.
This wasn't cowardice—it was self-preservation. Better to gauge the other side's intentions first.
"A week ago, a doll named Evelyn Parker was here. She disappeared after an incident. Where did you send her?"
The man flinched, instinctively denying it. "You've got the wrong place. We don't have any girl by that name."
Leo smiled faintly, then quoted the more detailed intel he had received from the detective's files. "Last Wednesday, 1:50 a.m., Room 11 was attacked. The doll assigned to that room was Evelyn Parker. Still want to lie?"
The man looked like he'd been struck in the back of the head, his eyes widening. This information came from Cloud's internal system and was classified. Even most of the dolls who worked here wouldn't have access to this.
Just who the hell were these people?
A dark suspicion crept into his mind. "The netrunner who attacked her—was that one of yours?"
Leo ignored the hostility.
His eyes calmly scanned the office. A large red carpet.
No money for real plants, so there were framed pictures of greenery instead. Golden desk lamp casting a warm glow.
All of it—a cheap imitation of a corporate executive's office.
One look at a person's office decor could often reveal their ambitions.
Clearly, this man wasn't content just managing a team of dolls.
He wanted to climb higher.
"I wasn't the one who attacked Evelyn. But I need to know where she is. Oh, and this is a Tiger Claw spot, right? Then you should know Jotaro Shobo."
"The reason Jotaro died was because we couldn't reach an agreement. That was the last time he sat down to talk business with anyone. You don't want this to be your last conversation too, do you?"
No one involved with the Tiger Claws hadn't heard Jotaro Shobo's name.
Even though he had died months ago—along with his crew, reduced to fireworks in the explosion at the Phoenix Casino—the gang still had no clue who the culprit was.
"Of course not. I don't want to end up like Jotaro..." He raised his hands and poured himself a drink. "That girl... Parker. She's not here anymore."
Leo raised an eyebrow, already losing patience. "Tell me something I don't know."
The man lifted his glass toward Leo. "I thought you'd know how places like this work. But I guess not."
Leo crossed his arms, expression cold. "Oh, I know. Her behavioral chip got fried by a netrunner, along with some other components. She couldn't work anymore. I'm asking where you sent her. Don't play dumb. If you think I won't kill you, think again. You're not more valuable than the corpos I've already put down."
A shiver ran through the man.
He could tell the difference between a bluff and a real threat.
The young guy in front of him didn't seem he was new to this.
The man hesitated, then set his glass down.
"Like you said, her chip was fried—completely toasted. We tried to fix it—believe it or not—but there was no chance. Higher-ups told me to deal with her."
"So you killed her?"
"No. I found a ripperdoc willing to take a look. Said he might know how to fix her."
"Since when were you such a bleeding heart?"
"Hey, I've got feelings too, you know. You can insult my brain, but not my moral character."
Leo acted like he bought the explanation. "This ripperdoc—what's his name?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me."
The man hiccupped. "I'm not. Everyone just calls him Fingers. His clinic's down some dark alley in Jig-Jig Street. If you're looking for Parker, that's where you should go. I've told you everything I know. Just don't come back. Ever."
"Alright. I'm leaving."
Leo nodded and turned like he was about to walk away. But in an instant, he blinked to the man's side. A knife slid from his sleeve into his right hand and slashed clean across the man's throat.
The man's eyes widened, filled with disbelief. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
He stumbled toward the door, but hadn't even made it a few steps before collapsing hard onto the floor. Leo stood at the doorway, blocking his exit.
"Why...?"
"Don't blame me. Blame yourself for trying something stupid."
In truth, the cabinet he had stood in front of didn't just contain a handgun.
There was a silent alarm trigger mounted behind the handle. Small and well-hidden—easy to miss unless you know where to look.
But Leo had scanned the room with his tactical optics before entering.
He knew, and he knew why the man refused to step away from the cabinet.
It wasn't the gun he'd been reaching for— he was going for the alarm.
He never got the chance.
Now he lay motionless on the floor, blood pooling across the carpet.
Leo sat down at the desk and opened the computer. Sure enough, there were chat logs between the man and a ripperdoc named Fingers on Jig-Jig Street.
The logs confirmed Evelyn was in Finger's care.
But the man hadn't found her a doctor out of kindness—he'd sold her to Fingers.
Leo had figured as much. No way this bastard suddenly grew a conscience.
"You two head back the way we came. I'll take care of the surveillance."
No one objected.
They split up.
The surveillance room was just outside the office. Inside was a single Tiger Claw.
He didn't even notice when Leo entered.
With one quick twist, Leo snapped his neck. Then he deleted all surveillance footage, disabled every camera in Clouds, and erased all the biometric scan data from the entrance terminals.
Not a single trace of their presence would remain.
Leo took the elevator back down to the ground floor, rejoined the others,
and walked out together.
The receptionist looked surprised they were already leaving—she even tried to persuade them to stay a little longer.