Ke-style law enforcement officers

Chapter 195 The Confident Foot Massager
"Don't forget, find a professional funeral director to cooperate with. The ability to spy only works on the deceased who are buried. Even if you kill a psychic, you have to hold a funeral for them before you can spy on and plunder them. Consider this a reminder. You never know when it might come in handy, even if it's just to send yourself off."

This was the Scarlet Witch's final words to Milo.

Milo temporarily ignored the suggestion.

Who the hell would hang out with funeral processions? It's bad luck.

……

It is worth mentioning that St. George's Hospital did not show any resistance to Mylo's investigation.

Of course, this is a reasonable situation, but Milo is not used to this smooth progress of the investigation. Subconsciously, he always feels that there should be one or two annoying guys to cause trouble.

"This is the data currently stored in our hospital. The data is updated every two years. Under normal circumstances, we only integrate and manage special cases, and we do not touch these physical examination data in other cases."

The person who received Milos was a logistics manager at the hospital. She carefully explained the status of the St. George's Hospital database to Milos and led him to the data storage room in the main building.

Although it is said to be updated every two years, the amount of data stored here is astonishing. The four storage rooms, totaling more than 500 square meters, are densely packed with shelves.

She explained, "After the pandemic, the Nanwei government implemented a system to manage public health data, which led to the establishment of several warehouses."

The warehouse storage room is located in the mezzanine of the semi-basement.

Although it sounds prestigious in name, the actual work they did was simply to pile up a bunch of scraps of paper with data written on them in a dark and damp room, and then empty it out and replace it with a new batch of scraps of paper after two years.

The receptionist didn't hide anything from Milo; on the contrary, she expressed her helplessness regarding this phenomenon.

The kerosene lamps in the semi-basement corridor were lit one by one.

There was no one here, and the ground was covered in dust. I guess few people would come to such a poorly ventilated place on a normal day.

The receptionist walked ahead of Milo, the sound of her heels tapping on the floor echoing down the corridor.

Under the glow of the kerosene lamp, her figure was beautifully accentuated.

I wonder if this was one of the hospital's little schemes; instead of sending any bald, pot-bellied leaders to receive Milo, they sent this hot yet gentle woman...

“How many people at St. George’s Hospital have access to this data, I mean, how many have the keys to this place?” Milo stopped and gently tugged at the warehouse door twice.

The receptionist took out a key and unlocked the warehouse door's double locks for Milo.

He then answered:
"The key to the warehouse is held by the IT department, but any medical department can apply to retrieve the data whenever needed, and the IT department staff will be responsible for doing so."

With a click, the warehouse door opened, and Milo smelled a musty odor from damp paper.

Are there any call logs?

Milo took the kerosene lamp from the receptionist and went straight into the storeroom.

Just as the other party said, although the amount of data was huge and it was organized meticulously, it did not play any fundamental role and was just a show project for the city's high-level leaders.

Are you from the IT department?

Milo walked between the shelves carrying a kerosene lamp.

The receptionist following Milo replied, "Is there any information you need to retrieve? I can do it for you."

“Aya Ferguson, I need this person’s data, as well as the records of how that data was accessed. If possible, I also need a list of data on other people of the same sex whose medical examination data is similar to hers.” Mylotti’s demands were anything but polite.

That's... a huge amount of work.

It was no easy feat for the receptionist to maintain her elegance and politeness throughout, though a hint of hesitation was evident in her tone.

"Thank you for your hard work. The law enforcement agency will remember your efforts." Milo didn't offer any room for negotiation and responded indifferently.

"If I have done anything to offend you, please accept my apology." The receptionist's thought process was quite peculiar, at least that's what Milo thought.

“I’m not making these requests to make things difficult for you; they’re necessary for the case.” Milo turned and glanced at the receptionist. “This will take a long time.” The receptionist frowned slightly, but not in a displeased way; it was more like a hint of coquetry.

"The hospital leaders sent you here just to waste my time, didn't they?" Milo leaned against the shelf, raised the kerosene lamp, and looked at the tall, professional woman behind him.

“But that’s a pleasant way to waste time, not spending time with a pile of moldy files.” The other person shook their head and asked Milo, “Or perhaps, you don’t like my type?”

“Hmm—” Milo scratched his scalp with his thumbnail, somewhat speechless, and said, “Tell me…”

After saying the first three words, he realized that he didn't know the other person's name.

“Sansa.” The receptionist, true to her professionalism, immediately picked up where Milo left off.

"Hmm, tell me, Sansa, what are your measurements?" Milo examined the figure of the young female employee named Sansa by the light of the kerosene lamp.

The other party generously read out their body measurements.

There was a hint of pride in his tone.

After listening, Milo seemed to be deep in thought, and then said:
Would you mind taking off your high heels?

Upon hearing this, a faint blush finally appeared on the other person's fair face.

But she did as she was told.

After taking off her shoes, her bare feet touched the cold, damp floor, and she asked cautiously:

"Does it really have to be in a place like this?"

……

Milo rolled his eyes. He knew what the woman in front of him was thinking. Goodness, her mind was probably already wandering to other dimensions.

But Milo only made a rough estimate of Sansa's height after she took off her high heels.

He roughly estimated all the data and compared it with Aya Ferguson's data, and found that the two had a strikingly similar build.

So he said to Sansa:

"Although you may not understand what I'm saying, your data shows that you are under some kind of potential threat, so I suggest that you go home with someone after you finish your night shift, of course, after you have completed the task I have assigned you."

Before Milo could finish speaking, the blush on Sansa's face had faded rapidly, and the shyness and coyness in her voice had vanished completely.

"Thank you for your concern, Officer."

"It should."

Milo nodded:
"I'll come over to pick up the documents first thing tomorrow morning, and I'll have plenty of coffee."

After saying that, he ran away.

……

But after Milo left the storeroom, his keen hearing still helped him catch Sansa's angry and humiliating curses coming from behind.

The general meaning is—it's probably not Nantong.

And—he didn't even glance at my feet.

……

Milo kept shaking his head:

"He's actually a confident foot jester, thinking I'm Quentin Tarantino, huh?"

(End of this chapter)