"Now tell me—what exactly did you find, Kevin?"


    "I found out how Cuatro Angulos got so much drugs past the border, Mr. Hayes."


    Tristan''s eyes widened. That was a secret worth over ten million dors! Judging by Kevin''s smile, he realized that, too.


    "The boss of Cuatro Angulos has a few very high-profile people under his thumb. The kind that can go past customs without their luggage being checked, and have reasons to often travel between America and Mexico. That''s not their only way of bypassing border control, but it seems to be the main one for drug-rted things."


    "That''s… incredible. But, hm. There was still nothing on the Angulos boss himself?"


    "No, Mr. Hayes. He''s very secretive. Which is understandable, considering the price on his head put by the Mexican government."


    Tristan nodded. He''d hide his name too, if he didn''t have the luxury of a secret identity, anyway.


    "Was there any information on who these people are exactly, Kevin?"


    "Not much, but… I think many of them are celebrities, pop-stars, that sort of thing. At least one of them, as far as I could guess, is probably somewhere in America at the moment. Look for yourself."


    Tristan nodded, then swiftly wrote an order on a piece of paper, signing it with his name. He passed the paper to Kevin.


    "Give it to our ountant. If I find something useful in these files, I will give you more."


    Kevin read the order and smiled. "2000 dors? Thank you, Mr. Hayes. I hope you won''t get disappointed."


    Tristan dismissed him with a wave of hand.


    He still had documents to deal with, but they weren''t time-sensitive, so he set them aside and inserted the sh drive into hisptop.


    The documents Kevin copied there were all various administrative documents, and although none of them said anything direct about anyone, Tristan''s observation skill immediately noticed many clues.


    It all went down to thest known drug delivery. And considering its size, Tristan doubted there were many others.


    There weren''t any names, but there were clues that the person who delivered it came to the US on a tour. Like a concert tour.


    So they were a musician.


    Read chapters at m_v-l''e|-NovelBin


    Grinning, Tristan searched up all the concerts from the touring musicians in his city in the previous month.


    Then he filtered out all who didn''te on a tour from Mexico.


    There was only one person left: a popr rapper/hip-hop singer, Big Rocket.


    Publicly avable information told Tristan that despite performing in English and Spanish, he came from Mexico, and he regrly toured between countries, crossing the border onnd.


    It was a perfect cover to bring a bunch of drugs, and perhaps even several cartel soldiers, past the customs.


    Another quick search told Tristan that by now, he had finished the tour, but still stayed in Los Angeles. Pics from his social pages showed he was rxing in the usual style of rappers and "searching inspiration for his next album".


    It didn''t look like he was in any hurry to return to his homnd.


    "Ah, Los Angeles. The city of Hollywood. All the roads lead to you, don''t they?" Tristan muttered, grinning. "I will need to give Kevin another five grand."


    Now he didn''t need to try hard about a reason to be in Los Angeles. Although to present a n to Leon von, he will have to flesh it out more.


    ''Then, instead of moving to arger apartment in this city, I will just move permanently right to LA!''


    ***


    In a very different ce.


    Actually, this happened in two ces at once, yet at the same time, nowhere. It was a conversation that happened on the Inte, between two people separated by unknown distances, but still on the same page.


    Both of them preferred to be anonymous, but one was known as the mysterious boss of Cuatro Angulos, and the other as an extremely good assassin under a moniker of "No Hope".


    The first of them had a problem.


    ording to his—now demoted to a simple grunt—former za boss (or a region boss, as those Americans might say) Quixada, a single person led to the cartel''s retreat from Quixada''s city.


    The boss of Angulos didn''t just believe his words. He made his research. He thought it all through.


    He decided that Tristan Hayes, indeed, was a problem—and could be an even bigger one. Even killing Leon von was pointless, because Hayes would likely take over him immediately.


    No Hope was a solution.


    [I *hope* you are the real deal, because you won''t see the money until I see the confirmation that Tristan Hayes is dead.]


    [And if I won''t see the money then, you will be dead, too.]


    In his secret office, the boss of Angulos frowned and began writing a sharp response, but deleted it after a second thought.


    No Hope was a legend. The best assassin in the world, and even more secretive than the boss of Angulos himself.


    He (or she, as some people were sure, but not the boss of Angulos) always finished his missions, always killed anyone who skimped on payment, and always avoided being discovered. He had no favorite way of killing, and his targets died in all ways from poison to a bullet.


    When people found that No Hope was after them, they wrote their will and dressed for their own funeral.


    However, because of how mysterious he was, with never meeting his clients personally, it was terribly easy to impersonate him.


    The boss of Angulos was sure that whoever he wrote to at least had good credentials. Perhaps he actually WAS the real deal. Or at least, good enough to deal with Hayes.


    King Lion dealt Cuatro Angulos a blow, but Angulos never let go without retaliation. While the enemy rxed, thinking that they scared Angulos away for good, they just prepared their forces.


    The King Lion Gang was living itsst days and not knowing it.


    Somewhere in the world, an assassin who might or might not be THE No Hope gathered his things and bought a ne ticket to California.