The North American Gourmet Demon Handbook

"No, nothing much has happened."

"Due to Mr. Cyrus Morton's fragmented memory, he is completely unable to provide any useful clues about that night. He is even unable to communicate now."

"What about you, Mr. Drummond? Since you've absolutely confirmed this is a kidnapping and not a simple disappearance, the kidnappers must have contacted you, right? Why haven't you contacted our FBI Special Affairs Division?"

"Mr. Drummond, the FBI's Special Operations Division has fully committed to investigating the case of Mr. Alex Drummond."

“However, we noticed that after confirming the nature of the kidnapping, you did not immediately inform our department of any contact information of the kidnappers in accordance with established procedures.”

"This information lag severely hinders our investigation and potentially compromises the safety of victims."

"We cannot emphasize enough that full and timely cooperation with law enforcement is crucial in serious criminal cases involving hostage safety. We ask that you promptly provide all relevant details to ensure the successful resolution of this case and the safe return of Mr. Alex."

Kate's series of official language made Drummond dizzy and his anger suddenly rose.

Whether you are a robber or a small FBI agent, how dare you talk to me like this?

His roar escaped his lips. "You have no authority to order me around! Agent MacKenzie!"

"That's exactly what I wanted to say, Mr. Drummond," Kate immediately responded bluntly.

This was followed by another string of official rhetoric: "Mr. Drummond, the FBI's authority and responsibilities are clearly vested in federal law and are intended to maintain public safety and address interstate crime."

“In kidnapping-for-ransom cases, our department has the legal authority to request all necessary information to ensure the safety of the hostages and apprehend the suspects.”

"Your non-cooperation not only seriously hinders the investigation of the case, but may also be considered an obstruction of justice. We reiterate that for Mr. Alex's safety, we urge you to immediately fulfill your civic duty and provide all known leads."

"Damn it! My son was kidnapped! You're obstructing justice! Damn bureaucracy!" Drummond was irritated by Kate's official tone.

His face turned completely red, and he started cursing in frustration, then smashed the phone in his hand to pieces.

But he was only angry for less than a minute before forcing himself to calm down.

Cyrus Morton, Cyrus Morton...

He was now unsure what was going on with this witchcraft consultant.

Was it really because of his failure to protect Alex that his soul was damaged, or was it some kind of self-torture?

Drummond, who originally had absolute confidence in his soul, naturally didn't mind whether Cyrus Morton was playing any tricks. As long as he saw it with his own eyes, he would be able to tell whether this wizard consultant was truly loyal.

However, Li Shanze's operation, which he could not understand at all, opened a small gap in his soul, causing him to lose his confidence.

Drummond couldn't help but become suspicious.

No, I can't come out now, let... let Theodore Lancaster go and pick him up.

Drummond hesitated for a long time before finally making a decision.

…………

"He can't remember his name or where he's from, but he refuses to go back to Kaguya Town no matter what."

Al looked at the old man who had been awakened with great difficulty.

"Isn't this just a homeless man with amnesia? Enzo, should we send him to an institution?"

Author's words: I'm finally home, Orz

279 Re-tracking

The old man's cloudy eyes flashed with a mixture of confusion and fear. His skinny body curled up in the back seat, emitting a smell of dust that had accumulated over the years.

When Al mentioned the word "institution", his originally dull expression instantly twisted and he trembled violently as if he was hit by an electric current.

"No! The shelter! No! There... there's fog and sounds... they... they'll find me!" He waved his dry hands incoherently, with black mud embedded in the cracks of his nails.

Fog? Was it the strange indigo fog from before? What about the sound? What did the sound refer to?

The two brothers looked at each other in confusion.

The old man began to mutter in a low voice, as if talking to himself, or as if issuing a warning to some threat in the air. He waved his thin, dry fists: "Go away! Get away! Don't! Don't touch me!"

The old man was only relatively clear-headed last night when he told the two brothers that they could leave Kaguya Town at dawn.

Even when the two brothers were in Kaguya Town, even with a cell phone signal, they couldn't locate their position on Google Maps.

So they all tacitly agreed not to mention what kind of place Kaguya Town was and why it looked so strange.

A long career as a private detective - even a low-level one that mainly investigates the infidelity of their partners - tells them one thing: in many cases, the less curiosity the better.

So they subconsciously did not think about Kaguya Town, and subconsciously did not want to delve into who this old man was.

"Forget it, Al." Enzo sighed.

"The shelter... I've been there to investigate a case, and it's not a place for human beings to stay. Often, it's worse than a homeless tent."

"The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and despair, beds were stacked against each other, lice and fleas were everywhere, and there were those guys with empty eyes. Going in was like being sentenced to life imprisonment."

"No, maybe prison is much better than a detention center. At least in prison, you won't be forced to inject yourself with all kinds of weird drugs."

Enzo shook his head, lowering his voice a bit with a hint of indignation: "They don't care whether you have lost your memory, are sick, have encountered any difficulties, or need help."

"As long as they decide you're a 'troublemaker', they'll just stuff you in and keep you out of sight."

"Oh, Holy Mary! That's not helping. That's pushing people to death and stripping them of their last bit of dignity."

"This old man would rather go crazy than go back. Why do you think that is? He must know what kind of place that is better than us."

"Anyway, he helped us last night, we can't just abandon him like this."

Enzo shook his head, opened the car door and invited the old man into the back seat.

"Old man, do you remember anything? Is there anywhere you can go?" Enzo asked patiently.

"I'm following you. You have a smell. The smell of home." The old man said hesitantly.

The two brothers were confused again.

"The taste of home? Is it because we had dinner in Kaguya Town last night? But he refused to go back to Kaguya Town..." Al frowned.

"Maybe it would be better to send him to Palissade Park? Maybe there will be his family among the Japanese there?" Enzo said after pondering for a moment.

Unexpectedly, these words caused a fierce protest from the old man in the back seat.

"You are! You are Japanese! Your whole family! Your whole family is Japanese!"

The old man roared at the top of his lungs, spit flying everywhere, his dry lips trembling with anger, revealing a few shaky teeth.

He waved his bony hands violently, his sharp nails like two dry eagle claws, scratching the air randomly in the narrow compartment, even as if he was going to pounce on Enzo and tear him apart.

Veins bulged on his neck, his entire face turned the color of liver due to extreme excitement, and the wrinkles on his forehead were as deep as if they were cut by a knife.

He even tried to lean over from the back seat, his body twisted in violent struggle, as if he was about to break free from his restraints and eat Enzo alive in the next second.

That ferocious look, where was the dullness and helplessness of an amnesiac homeless man? Instead, it looked like an enraged demon.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, old man. It was an unintentional mistake. I didn't mean to offend you." Enzo tried to persuade the crazy old man with kind words before he calmed him down.

"Wait, do you remember what Claudia said when we talked on the phone last night? Mr. Li would be angry if he was mistaken for a Japanese... Maybe this old man is Mr. Li's fellow countryman?" There was joy in Al's voice as if he had suddenly realized something.

"Maybe we can send him to Mr. Li!"

Enzo was not very happy about his brother's discovery. Instead, he felt a toothache.

He sighed, then shouted, "You pig! What do you think Mr. Li is? A shelter?"

"We've been hired by Mr. Li to track down Theodore Lancaster, the senior vice president of Merck Pharmaceuticals. Not only have we lost him, but we've also sent him a homeless person? Did you think the Godfather of the underworld is good-tempered after being treated to a nice meal? You pig!"

After being scolded, Al felt a little numb. He said aggrievedly, "Then what do you say we should do?"

"We need to be strategic. Let's take him with us first. We'll track down Theodore Lancaster. Once we get the information Mr. Li wants and report to him, we'll indirectly mention the existence of this peculiar old man."

"If he's interested, that's great. If he's not, then let's not talk about it anymore! At worst, we can just hire an old man as a janitor in our office! He's an old man, and he can eat a lot! It's worth a bite of rice!"

Enzo gritted his teeth and made a decision.

"At worst, we can slowly help him find his family! I don't believe there's anyone in New Jersey that our Vitali brothers can't find!"

Al patted the steering wheel, his tone light and cheerful: "That's right! We in the Vitali family never abandon those in need!"

Enzo also grinned, a smile of relief. He reached out and patted Al's shoulder hard. The two brothers smiled at each other, and everything was said without words.

The car started up again, the engine emitting a low roar. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating the dusty interior and seemingly dispelling the gloom.

Al hummed a tuneless little tune, stepped on the accelerator lightly, and the car drove smoothly onto the road.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, watching the scenery passing by outside the window, occasionally turning around to talk to Al or make a joke.

"We have to go to Princeton first - wait, Al, look at that Audi A8, that's the car we followed yesterday!" Enzo suddenly pointed to the A8 speeding in another direction.

"Oh, it really is!" Al frantically turned the steering wheel, trying to turn around.

Finally, the Vitali brothers' tattered Ford Kuga managed to catch up with the obsidian-colored Audi A8.

"Tsk, that lingering fly. That damn Romano!" Soon, Theodore Lancaster, who was driving to Philadelphia, discovered that another private detective was following him.

"Damn you Italian pig! What a two-faced villain!"

Theodore Lancaster was furious.

Obviously, they all had a community of interests, but Marco Giuseppe Romano blatantly sent a private detective to follow him, showing distrust clearly on his face.

Theodore Lancaster never expected that this pair of useless private detectives were not hired by Marco Giuseppe Romano.

How could they not be hired by Romano, who is used to using private investigators, since they are of Italian descent?

Under this misunderstanding, the honeymoon period between the three executives due to their common interests ended immediately.

Theodore Lancaster wanted to wave his hand and cast a spell to send these two idiots into the sky.

But he still endured it.

That damn Italian guy, Romano, is incredibly skilled at manipulating public opinion. Maybe he's just waiting for me to summon some magic to take out these two rats! I won't be fooled!

Theodore Lancaster chose to endure for the time being.

Author's words: Thanks to Xiaopingguo112633 and Shi Aji for the recommendation votes

280 Tracking and Greeting

Highway 1 from Princeton to Philadelphia is only a few dozen kilometers.

Theodore Lancaster's patience was being worn out at a visible rate.

Those two damn Italian guys were like haunting ghosts, more annoying than the flies he hated the most. No matter where he went, he could always feel those two sticky gazes, like two invisible tentacles, tightly wrapped around him.

Their tracking skills might be useful against ordinary people, but using them against wizards... damn it! I think Romano hired these two idiots just to force me to take action!

Theodore Lancaster was utterly distraught.

He went to refuel and saw the dilapidated Ford Escape parked opposite the gas station. The windows were half open and the figures inside were blurry, yet their presence was clearly evident.

He smoked and could always catch a glimpse of their swaying figures through the gaps in the blinds of the smoking room. One of them was standing on the street corner pretending to play with his cell phone, and the other was pretending to read a newspaper. Their poor disguise was an insult to his intelligence.

Theodore Lancaster even spotted the two incompetent private detectives sitting in a corner of the same restaurant at lunch, ordering cheap pasta and glancing in his direction from time to time.

He deliberately walked around a few blocks and took a few alleys, thinking he had gotten rid of them. But just as he turned the corner, he saw the Ford Kuga slowly gliding over and stopping near his car, its headlights flashing like two mocking eyes.

He couldn't stand it any longer, so he turned on the wizard's hearing system in the midst of the Philadelphia city noise, wanting to hear what the two lousy detectives were talking about, and then he heard a smug but silly voice.

"Well, Enzo, I told you a long time ago that my tracking skills are superb! That Merck executive will never find us!"

Holy shit!

Theodore Lancaster, who appeared gentle but was actually extremely arrogant, felt extremely insulted by being followed by such a fool.

Don't be angry with these two idiots, don't be angry with these two idiots...

I also have to pick up the Drummond family's witchcraft advisor, the amnesiac Cyrus Morton.

Theodore Lancaster felt his blood boiling and he could only keep telling himself to be patient for the time being.

Theodore Lancaster suppressed his anger and drove to the Philadelphia Police Headquarters - Cyrus Morton was placed here by the FBI, waiting for his reception.

He knew he had to remain calm. After all, this was an official institution and any magical fluctuations could cause unnecessary trouble.

However, just as he parked the car, he caught a glimpse of that damn Ford Escape out of the corner of his eye. Like a piece of chewing gum that couldn't be shaken off, it was parked across the street again. With the window rolled down, two blurry figures were vaguely visible.

"Damn Italian pig!" Lancaster cursed in his heart. He could even imagine Romano's fat face staring at him triumphantly.

He walked into the headquarters building, every step filled with suppressed anger. Through the glass door, he saw that the Kuga was still motionless, like a dog chain tied to his neck. No matter where he went, the two idiots followed closely behind.

This pervasive surveillance made him feel unprecedentedly humiliated and angry. He took a deep breath and transformed all his anger into a deep hatred for Marco Giuseppe Romano.