New Gods of North America

That evening, Wayne and Inessa chose the bar that the murderer had frequented recently and began their first round of reconnaissance.

They also brought Sanders, a burly man who looked intimidating, to silently and politely deter some of the intermittently courageous drunkards.

The murderer had moved several times before, and almost every time he moved, the bars he frequented would change.

Lina didn't think there was a high probability that these bars were problematic, but conversely, if the murderer stopped going, the possibility that his contact would no longer go there was also low.

Entering the bar, the bartender saw Wayne and his companions sitting at the bar and quickly came over to greet them. "Welcome, what would our new friends like to drink tonight?"

The bar was lively at the moment, with a bunch of drunkards surrounding a table, cheering and shouting. Wayne craned his neck and glanced over, discovering that they were playing a horse racing machine.

This era also had its own adult toys. In bars, common ones were usually simple roulette or ball-rolling machines. Horse racing machines were relatively new and still had to be imported from the Kingdom of Windsor.

This thing looked like a small square box with several parallel grooves of equal length, mounted on an internal slope. Each groove contained a small steel ball and a small racehorse of different colors with a base. At the bottom, there was a square shaft with a flywheel that ran across all the grooves.

After winding a rope around it and pulling the flywheel, the square shaft would hit the small steel balls, which would then be launched. When the small steel ball hit the base under the small racehorse, it would first push the small racehorse forward a short distance, and then roll down the slope.

This cycle would repeat. Because the time it took for the small steel balls to roll back down from different positions and the timing of being hit by the square shaft were different, the combination of the two meant that the racehorse that was pushed to the finish line first would be different each time. There might even be race reversals, making it an interesting toy that used purely mechanical means to achieve randomness.

Then, adults plus randomness, and the location being a bar, the gameplay became various forms of betting.

However, public gambling was a prohibited activity, and bets that were too blatant would be stopped by the bar staff. Usually, it was mainly for entertainment. You couldn't get rich, but small bets could be addictive.

It was better if no one paid attention to the bar. Wayne flicked a gold coin over. "Three of your best-selling drinks, keep the change."

The drinks that sold in volume were all cheap. The bartender was still conscientious: "Our beer and rum probably won't suit your tastes. This whiskey is not bad, it's suitable for changing your palate."

When you're out, your identity is what you make it. Wayne chose a relatively low-key one this time:

"We are reporters from a newspaper. Have you heard about the recent 'Cathedral Attack'? We heard that the murderer named Karl used to come to your bar often, and we want to dig up some suitable material."

The bartender raised an eyebrow, his eyes falling on Inessa's face, not knowing whether he was praising or mocking, "Such a beautiful and elegant lady is actually a reporter?"

You're being a bit discriminatory here. Be careful, I'll tell that professional female reporter, Freddie Lounds, what you said, and say you're mocking her for being ugly.

Wayne's face was mysterious, and he gestured towards Inessa. "This is Miss Lounds, the daughter of our newspaper's shareholder, a rising star in the reporter world. She is only one or two explosive news reports away from becoming a household name."

The bartender quickly understood. He pocketed the gold coin and took out a few coins from the other pocket, throwing them into the bar drawer. He also leaned in:

"To be honest, the church and the police have already come to ask about him several times in the past few days. That Karl only came for the first time two or three months ago. He would come about once a week, basically not actively interacting with others, and the tips he gave were said to be average. Actually, there's nothing special about him."

Inessa quickly noticed the key point. "Basically doesn't interact with others, so there's still some interaction?"

The bartender seemed slightly surprised, so Wayne leaned forward slightly:

"This case is said to be still under investigation, and related news is hard to get. We suggest Miss Lounds temporarily dig up some news about the murderer's inner world, which can also satisfy the curiosity of the public who are concerned about the case. For example, what kind of women the murderer likes, what kind of wine he usually drinks, these news are useless to the police, but very meaningful to us."

The bartender thought for a while. "That Karl drank whiskey, the one you're drinking now. As for communication, I only saw him briefly communicate with others a few times, and it didn't seem like anything special."

Wayne took out a small notebook next to him. "Were they all men he was communicating with?"

The bartender nodded somewhat inexplicably, hesitating slightly:

"Of course, the women you see in bars, apart from the servers and performers, are mostly the companions of the men. He doesn't actively interact with people, and even if there are occasional solo female customers, he won't go to flirt with them."

Wayne wrote while deliberately muttering to himself, "The murderer prefers to communicate with men... In terms of sexual orientation, he doesn't blindly follow worldly ideas... He has the courage and persistence to walk alone in this world..."

The bartender seemed to have never seen this kind of behavior before, and his eyes widened slightly.

But Wayne didn't care about him and continued to ask, "Do you remember the appearance of the men he communicated with? If it involves personal privacy, we can only describe their physical characteristics in the report."

This time the bartender really hesitated. "The people he communicated with are basically regulars of the bar. If you write like this, it will affect our bar's business..."

Wayne seemed very calm, twirling his pen and waiting:

"So there are relatively unfamiliar customers? You can mainly talk about those people. Don't worry, we are professional reporters, we will only record the true and objective content, and will not fabricate anything."

The bartender obviously doubted Wayne's words, but for the sake of the gold coin, he still thought about it:

"Among them, the relatively unfamiliar ones seem to be only two people. One of the men was quite burly, with a short-trimmed beard on his face, blue eyes, looking like he was close to a Hans person.

"The other man was wearing a windbreaker and never took off his hat, feeling like he came to the bar to find someone. After realizing he was looking in the wrong place, he left quickly, without even buying a drink."

The beard may be a disguise... but leaving after a brief contact seems more professional...

Wayne thought while continuing to maintain his persona: "According to insiders, the murderer showed a fascination with masculine physical features and had no resistance to mysterious same-sex individuals... It seems that he even formed different kinds of friendships because of this..."

Writing this, Wayne raised his head again, and the bartender on the opposite side quickly shrank his neck.

The smile on Wayne's face remained unchanged. "Can you describe those two gentlemen in more detail? Any specific details will do. Also, did they only contact the murderer once? Have they ever come again at other times?"