Chapter 26

Angelica cautiously eyed Holt and his squadron. This case was exceptionally difficult, given the suspect's powerful backing. Jupiter sighed in relief. “Let’s go to the Lewis Estate to search for clues first. We can’t touch him without conclusive evidence.” The colonel's recent mention of his boss left no room for doubt about his identity. The immense pressure made Nash's legs tremble.

Nash looked at them both. “It’s late. I’ll come with you, but don't keep me long.” Angelica returned Nash’s ID card. “You’d better stay out of this. Otherwise, I will bring you to justice, regardless of your connections.” They walked toward the Lewis Estate.

Nash admired Angelica’s work ethic, but suspected she was slightly eccentric. If he truly were the perpetrator, he wouldn't have talked so much yesterday, prolonging the investigation. Hera pulled Nash aside. “There are issues at the company; let’s go back.”

Lacking their own transportation, they hailed a cab, but waited a long time without success. Remembering the bearded man, Hera asked, “Who was that bearded man?” “An old friend,” Nash replied. She smiled faintly. “Who is he? Is he wealthy?” Nash shook his head. “I don't think so. That car was probably rented. Stellar’s a colonel, but his salary isn't high; that car wasn't his.” Hera sighed.

Nash asked, intrigued, “Do you like money that much?” Hera was surprised. “Does anyone not like money?” Nash was taken aback by her question. He’d helped his teacher earn billions, only to have her donate it all to impoverished mountain regions. He lacked travel funds, even working construction for a month to afford trips abroad. His teacher had once given him only ten dollars upon his last descent from the mountains. He’d asked her why she donated everything. She'd replied that money was external; those devoted to their path should transcend worldly concerns, embracing poverty and virtue, devoid of material desires. His teacher, therefore, did not value money. Influenced by her, Nash echoed, “I don't like money.”

Hera smirked. “Is that why you’re poor?” Nash turned to her. “Honestly, I make money easily. A single job starts at $150,000,” he said seriously. His contacts—one hundred phone numbers—were all former clients, each influential and willing to assist him.

“$150,000? Do you know how much that is?” Hera smiled dubiously. Nash possessed medical and martial arts skills, yet lacked decent clothing.

A cab arrived. Hera grabbed Nash’s sleeve, and they entered. “I was joking. Don't worry. The company might be struggling, but I can still support you!”

Shortly after their departure…