Chapter 18: Seeking Death

"I will send the photo to your email later," Assistant Barton said, glancing at the dark alley. "Let me walk you home. It's quite dark here." Although Irene had high combat skills, she didn't refuse his kindness. They walked for about five minutes before Irene led Barton to the door of a three-story white house located next to a dilapidated road. The house seemed to have not been maintained for many years. The roof was in disrepair, the iron gate at the entrance was rusty, and there was no trace of the house's past grandeur from decades ago. A sign hung on the gate: "Knitting clothes - 30, knitting sweaters - 50, knitting socks - 10." Assistant Barton had seen many such houses. Most of the homeowners were workers with meager wages who had to do some side jobs after a long day of heavy work to make extra money. Such businesses obviously did not pay taxes; they just needed to take the sign down and hide it when the police came to check. And of course, there were no formal proced