The comments said I was deeply affectionate, I just added points by using an alternate account.

All the buildings have a sense of having been used for too long and neglected. They're not about to collapse, but you can tell from looking at them that they're no longer willing to hold on.

Across the street was a row of small shops. In front of one of them sat a middle-aged man in a vest, squinting as he smoked, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the road.

He glanced at the coffin, then looked away.

In places like this, unfamiliar faces aren't worth looking at.

The bus arrived, an old bus that had been in service for who knows how many years. The "GG" sign on the bus had faded into a blurry patch of color, and the door made a long, drawn-out clanging sound when it opened.

Chen Guan got into the car and dropped in a coin.

There were only three passengers on the bus: an elderly woman, a young man, and a man wearing a baseball cap sitting in the last row, with the brim pulled low so his face was not visible.

The car drove off, swaying and bumping.

The scenery outside the window gradually changed from the old residential area near the station to an even more desolate industrial area.

Factory buildings have replaced residential buildings, arranged in varying heights along both sides of the road, with most doors and windows tightly closed, and rusty equipment and abandoned containers piled up in the yards.

Occasionally, you can see one or two people in work clothes standing at the factory gate smoking, but most of the factory area is empty, with locks on the gates and rust on the chains.

At the second stop, one person got off, and two people got on.

The two people who got on the bus were both dressed in dark clothes, one tall and one short. After getting on the bus, they went straight to the last row and sat down next to the man wearing a baseball cap.

The three people huddled together, speaking in hushed tones, glancing at Chen Guan every now and then.

Chen Guan's gaze fell on the car window, where a blurry reflection of the interior was shown, and the angle was just right to see the situation in the last row.

The three of them talked for less than half a minute before stopping.

The two people who came up later each took out their phones and started scrolling, as if the conversation had never happened.

We've arrived at the third stop.

East Wharf.

Chen Guan stood up, walked towards the car door, and casually retrieved the ticket stub that had just been stolen from him.

The man in the baseball cap tilted his head slightly as he passed by, as if he had sensed something.

But Chen Guan had already gotten out of the car.

The doors closed behind him, and the old bus continued forward, belching black smoke.

……

East Wharf.

The dock itself was still operational, and in the distance, several cranes could be seen moving slowly, lifting and lowering containers one by one, producing a dull metallic clanging sound.

After walking for a while, Chen Guan saw a rusty tin sign, crookedly nailed to a cement utility pole by the roadside.

Warehouse Group No. 13.

The writing was almost completely rusted away, but it was still barely legible.

Looking inside, there was a dense cluster of old factory buildings and warehouses, crammed together at varying heights. The passageways between them were so narrow that in some places only two people could walk side by side. Overhead, there were tangled electrical wires and clotheslines, and the ground was covered with stagnant water that had been there for who knows how long.

Baihu is right, this place is indeed as chaotic as a maze.

The people here aren't much better; you can even run into thieves while taking a ride. It's a pretty chaotic place. Chen Guan is no stranger to this kind of place; he doesn't feel uncomfortable, but he doesn't have much affection for it either.

Chen Guan stood at the entrance, his gaze slowly sweeping over the area he could see.

There were no obvious sentry posts, no cameras, and no signs to guide you.

Chen Guan reached into his pocket, his fingertips touching the edge of the piece of cardboard.

Clown hat.

He took a deep breath of the rusty air, put on the mask, and stepped inside.

From this moment on, he was no longer Chen Guan.

His name is He Chenguan.

……

Adong Hardware.

The shop is small, and there's a person sitting behind the counter.

The man appeared to be in his forties, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing two strong forearms. There was an old burn scar on the web of his right hand.

Chen Guan walked to the counter and stopped.

The cheetah sat at his feet, its tail obediently pressed against the ground, its purple pupils half-closed, looking lazy.

"Boss," Chen Guan said.

The man didn't look up; he was still looking at his iron pipe.

"What should I buy?"

Chen Guan didn't say anything, but reached into his pocket, took out the card with the clown hat printed on it, and placed it on the counter.

The sound of the iron pipe turning stopped.

The man's gaze shifted from the tube wall to the card.

Then he raised his head and looked directly at Chen Guan for the first time.

"Where did it come from?"

"southwest."

"Who introduced you?"

"No one introduced me to this job, but I heard there's work here."

The man put the iron pipe down on the counter with a dull thud.

"name."

"He Chenguan".

"What are you doing?"

"I do odd jobs, I do all sorts of things."

The man reached out and picked up the card from the counter, flipped it over in his hand, looked at the blank back, and then flipped it back to the front.

"Where did you get this?"

"Someone gave it to me."

"who."

"I don't know him. We met while drinking. He said they were hiring here and gave me this."

There's no need for Baihu to elaborate; Chen Guan will make up whatever minor details he wants.

After confirming that the card was indeed genuine, the person slapped it onto the counter.

"Come, sit down."

He dragged a low stool out from behind the counter and kicked it in front of Chen's coffin.

Chen Guan sat down, and the man took out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer, took one out and put it in his mouth, then pushed the cigarette pack towards Chen Guan.

"Want to smoke?"

"I don't smoke."

"Good habit." The man struck a match, lit a cigarette, took a drag, and the smoke billowed out of his nostrils in two streams.

"What kind of superpower?"

"Summoning type," Chen Guan said, summoning the leopard.

The man glanced at it and asked, "What breed is your beast?"

"The cheetah is a mutant species, so its fur color is not quite normal."

"I can tell." The man glanced down at the cheetah. "It's purple, quite nice-looking. Can it fight?"

Chen Guan agreed with the man's aesthetic sense: "He can fight, but not too strong."

"How amazing is too amazing?"

"Those above the fourth level will be difficult."

Even the leopard wagged its tail. "Struggling with anything above level four? Me?"

The man nodded, as if the answer was exactly what he expected.

It would be abnormal for someone to be too strong when applying for a casual job; a level three or four is just right.

Generally speaking, they are neither rich nor poor. As ordinary people, they are well-off, but as people with superpowers, they also spend money to earn money. Therefore, they are in a state of not starving but not having enough to eat. They are the kind of people who need to make a living through dubious means to make up for their income.

"What have you done before?"

"I've worked as a security guard, a custodian of goods, and occasionally taken on jobs clearing out strange beasts."

Have you ever killed anyone?

The question came very directly, without any probing.

Chen Guan's expression remained unchanged.

"It depends."

"What's going on?"

"The situation where the other party makes the first move."