Chapter 696: Can’t hide under the rug

Despite Hugo’s doubts about Allen’s innocence—because the evidence was as clear as day—he wanted to believe in his brother. Not just because Atlas was his brother and someone Hugo respected deeply, but because Atlas had a point.

Whatever happened and why Allen ended up in such a critical situation must be something more than what the evidence was presenting. Just like what Charles told them, certain people in the world could twist the truth however they liked.

Hugo didn’t want to accept everything laid before him without exhausting all his resources to find out the truth.

Pulling up in front of a bar, Hugo put his foot down to balance his motorbike. He gazed at the entrance of the establishment through the visor of his helmet, sighing heavily.

’I don’t like going in here,’he thought. ’But... I guess I should give it a shot.’

With that thought in mind, Hugo drove again and parked his motorbike before heading straight to the entrance. He only glanced at the bouncer before the latter stepped aside, giving way to him without a word.

"And what poison..." the bartender trailed off as he turned to face the newcomer sitting on the stool, only to see a familiar face. He smiled kindly. "It’s been a while, sir. The regular?"

Hugo nodded. "Yes, the regular."

"Coming right up." The bartender nodded and made Hugo the same drink he used to order at this bar. After just a minute, he placed the glass over a tissue, smiling. "Enjoy."

"Thank you." Hugo casually picked up the glass and drank it in one go, wincing a bit as the heat traveled down his throat, straight to his chest. But when he placed the glass down, the tissue was no longer there. "That hits the spot."

Hugo smirked and pushed himself away from the bar counter, walking away. Instead of going out, he headed straight to the bathroom. Glancing over his shoulder, he entered and surveyed the cubicles.

He approached the one with an out-of-order sign, moving the sign to the side. Once he locked the cubicle, he knocked on the wall behind the toilet. When nothing happened, he knocked twice again... and then waited.

’I’ll be damned if others find out about this,’ he thought, watching the wall where the toilet was mounted move inward. The corner of his mouth stretched, lifting the piece of tissue from the bartender earlier.

The bearded man standing on the other side didn’t speak a word; he only glanced at the tissue. Without a word, he stepped aside.

"Thanks," Hugo smiled at the man as he walked inside. ’The smell of cigarettes here is going to kill all the people here for sure.’

He shrugged, not caring about the gatekeeper as he marched down the usual route. Unlike the bar outside, there was not a single person in there, aside from the small partitioned tables. Going straight to his usual spot, Hugo sat down and waited for his company.

Silence filled the room as Hugo waited and waited until he heard some movements on the other side of the partition.

"It’s a pleasure to see you here again, Lieutenant." A man’s voice came from the other side of the partition, making Hugo turn. "What can I do for you today?"

"You know what I came here for," said Hugo, resting his palm on the edge of the table. "I want information."

"I’m still surprised that you don’t use the military’s database to find out about things," the man mused. "Lieutenant, I may be a man of information, but I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about now."

"If the SWAT team came kicking down your door, would you have any idea?"

"Oh... Lieutenant, aren’t you a little fierce? Did you make it a hobby to come here only to threaten me?"

"Give me the information I want."

The man sighed heavily. "I can’t because there’s no information to give."

"No information to give?" Hugo arched a brow, glancing at the wall separating him from the man. "You know it only takes a punch for me to grab you, do you?"

"Yes, I do." The man nodded. "But even if you tore me bit by bit, I can’t give you what you want."

"Why?"

"Because what you want is something even I couldn’t get my hands on."

Deep lines appeared between Hugo’s brows as he assessed the man’s tone.

"When I heard about what happened in your brother’s company, I immediately sent my men to gather information while we could. Beat the police to it. After all, it’s my business, and information like this is... worth it."

The man paused, leaning back as he pondered. "But what you got is the same as what I got."

"Impossible."

"I take that as a flattery, sir. I never would’ve thought you looked so highly of me," the man mused. "But since you’ve been our regular client, even though I always feel like my life is in danger whenever you come, I’ll give you a piece of advice."

"There are only two reasons for information to disappear: one is that there’s no other information, and what you have is already the truth. The second is... whoever is behind this means they’re people, even you cannot take on all by yourself."

"I suggest you stop," he added in a knowing tone. "Live life as you should—enjoy it since you can’t enjoy it once you are called back to base."

Hugo kept his mouth shut, listening to the man’s voice. "I see," he whispered, placing his hands on the table to push himself up. But just as he did, something slid onto his shoes, which he accidentally stepped on. Deep lines appeared between his brows as he stared at a small, torn piece of paper crumpled into a ball.

Picking it up, he glanced at the little gap underneath the chairs. It came from the other side of the partition, where the man was seated. When Hugo opened it, his jaw tightened.

[Get out. You owe me.]

Hugo glanced at the partition where the man was, crumpling the paper before tossing it into his mouth to chew. He walked out of the small private lounge while chewing the paper like it was a bubblegum.

****

Meanwhile, the man on the other side of the partition smiled at the other man seated across from him. He didn’t mind the multiple pistols aimed at him, lowering his eyes to the phone between them.

"When powerful men say they are powerful but end up stacking bodies in the conquest to erase something... it only shows they are threatened. Be careful who you bury under the rug; the dead can still point to the person who killed them," the man remarked to the person listening on the phone. "Jonathan Pierson, a few bodies is something you can hide under the rug, but too much? I don’t think you’d be able to stand on the rug without falling over—"

BANG! BANG! BANG!