It's about ten o'clock in the morning.
Dean and Marco rushed to the Van Helsing Pet Clinic, a shopping mall-like building on the roadside, with a large area and exquisite decoration.
The entrance is the front desk and waiting room, with telephones, brochures, and a TV playing pet promotional videos.
But in the past few days, Marco cooperated with Dean's investigation, so the clinic was temporarily closed and empty without other employees.
After that, there were rooms one after another, with the words "clinic room, pharmacy, injection room, laboratory, operating room" written on the door. Dean even saw an X-ray machine from one room.
"Your clinic is good, no smaller than an average hospital." Dean couldn't help but praise,
"Of course, my clinic has been operating in Reno for more than ten years. It has a good reputation and is deeply loved and trusted by customers. Although the income is not huge, it can still provide people with food and clothing," Marco said. There was a hint of expert arrogance on his serious face, and then he shook his head and sighed, "But my son doesn't appreciate it and doesn't want to inherit his father's legacy."
"Get him back this time, maybe he can change his ways."
The two of them passed the "Inpatient Department" along the corridor.
Woof woof!
Meow—
Suddenly, a burst of noisy screams passed through the wooden door, echoing one after another in the corridor. Marco pushed the door with a curl of his lips and entered. Both sides of the room were filled with cages of different sizes. Most of them were empty. A few of them contained oily fur. Bright, fat cats and dogs.
"Good boy, have you missed me after a few days?" Marco Poker showed a loving smile on his face, and his voice became lively. That kind of affectionate attitude seemed to bring these short-haired cats, tabby cats, and big golden retrievers together. Treated as biological children.
He changed the water and food for the cats and dogs very patiently and meticulously, opened the cage and touched each one's head, scratched their chin and belly, and patted their butts.
"Marco, you should treat these pets better than Luben."
Dean looked at the disobedient smile on the old man's face and complained behind him,
"Otherwise. These little guys are much more obedient than Luben, and the pets only see their owners...and Luben only sees his damn fantasies and dreams of being a writer, and has absolutely no responsibility for me as a father and for passing on the family lineage." Marco An expression that is exactly what it should be.
Dean didn't know what else to say, and then with a thought in his heart, he walked towards the honest big golden retriever who was wagging his big fluffy tail, sticking out his tongue and giggling, and made a sound of "嘬嘬嘬".
"Woof!"
The golden retriever yelled at him, then leaned down, stretched out his limbs, wrinkled his black nose to reveal his white teeth, and let out a series of low growls in his throat...as if he was threatened.
"Relax, Lucky, this is Dean, a good friend, relax!" Marco touched the golden retriever's back, but the big dog still showed its teeth and remained fierce.
Dean frowned and approached again unbelievingly.
Five meters, three meters, two meters.
Woohoo…
The low growl suddenly turned into a howl of fear, and the big golden retriever suddenly retreated to the corner of the cage, tucked his tail, and trembled all over.
Meow--
A piercing meow sounded again, and a beautiful short-haired cat jumped into the innermost part of the cage with its limbs taut like springs, its hair standing on end, and hissing sounds coming from its throat.
This cry was like a signal, instantly detonating all the animals in the inpatient department.
Woof woof!
Woo!
Chi Chi!
Marco hurriedly tried to comfort him, but a trace of disappointment flashed in Dean's eyes. He backed out of the room and closed the door, and the random shouts calmed down instantly.
After a while, Marco wiped the sweat from his forehead, went out and returned to the corridor, looking at Dean with surprise on his face.
"I'm sorry, I've seen a ghost. This has never happened before. These pets have always been very good-natured, not afraid of animals, and are friendly to everyone, but they went crazy today."
"Don't blame them. Maybe it's my problem. For example, they see that I am a werewolf in human skin, and are they afraid that I will eat them?" Dean grinned, showing his neat white teeth, "Let's go, look for blood."
…
After a small interlude.
The two rushed to the laboratory in the corner and took out a tube of frozen blood from a large freezer. "It has been frozen for seven or eight months and has deteriorated. Can it be used?" Marco said. He looked at the date on the test tube and handed it to Dean.
"It should be forced."
Dean took the sample and stuffed it into his suit pocket, then crushed it quietly. The moment the solid blood came into contact with his body, a prompt flashed in front of Dean's eyes.
Was the original sample replaced with Reuben van Helsing's blood?
yes.
Analysis countdown: 3:59:59
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the simulation had been upgraded once, otherwise he might not be able to analyze this tube of frozen old blood.
…
After achieving their goal, the two quickly left the pet clinic and returned to Luben's apartment, where they gathered "all black clothes" that fit the upper plot.
As a nerd, Luben had a very monotonous dressing sense. He bought several sets of the same clothes and shoes, which saved Dean a lot of effort.
"Young people have broad minds. Are you going to put on Lu Ben's clothes and pretend to be him?" Marco looked Dean up and down and shook his head, "But Lu Ben is half a head taller than you."
"I have my own way."
"Then when do we take action? I really appreciate your wonderful performance."
"You made a mistake, it's not us." Dean shook his head and looked directly into the old man's eyes, his tone not allowing for refutation, "I acted alone. If you get involved, it will ruin the plot of the book."
"Boy, I go to the shooting range to shoot a few shots every month. I even won the hunting competition championship when I was young. I don't need your protection." Marco gestured with his withered palms, and spittle flew everywhere.
"You need absolute silence and high concentration to perform surgery on pets, and I also need to be undisturbed when doing things. So this is not negotiable. If you don't listen to my instructions, I will go back to Las Vegas immediately." Dean's expression Cold, not giving in an inch,
Marco was so angry that he blew his beard and stared, and the blood vessels in his neck stood up tremblingly, but he nodded helplessly after a moment...
Dean put the package in the car, and then drove with the old man to a tree two hundred meters away from the Virginia Street Bridge.
"You can move freely now, but after eight o'clock in the evening, you must stay in my car. When I find Lu Ben, I will bring him to see you immediately." Dean warned the old man again, "Don't run around. , don’t come out if you hear any noise, otherwise you will harm your son.”
The event required Marco to witness Luben's end.
Therefore, he cannot be too far away from the bridge where the crime occurred to avoid missing the opportunity to witness, nor is he too close to destroy the plot of the book.
…
After the old man agreed, he temporarily left himself to prepare.
And Dean began a long waiting time.
Read "Ruben Van Helsing" again and again to make sure there are no missing details.
Take out various weapons from the trunk and inspect them: Colt M1911A1, three boxes of .45ACP ammunition;
Semi-automatic AR-15 rifle, three boxes of .223 Remington small-caliber rifle ammunition;
TAC-50 sniper rifle, three boxes of .50BMG, including tracer, incendiary, and armor-piercing rounds.
The three guns can be used both far and near. With Dean's lv3 shooting skills, they can even be used to attack helicopters and armored vehicles. It should be no problem to deal with physically strong targets.
…
In addition to the gun, there are two barrels of gasoline and tracer bullets used to ignite the target, causing fire damage.
Several egg-shaped M26 grenades are used just in case. Because the movement is too great, they will not be used unless absolutely necessary.
…
He rubbed his fingers over the cold and hard gun shell that reflected the metallic luster, pulled out the magazine, pulled the slide and the bolt, and checked carefully to confirm that Dean felt a lot more at ease inside.
But it has to be said that Dean has to bear huge risks with these weapons. Only the M1911A1 and AR-15 are legally held by him. Once the rest of the weapons are found, he will inevitably take a trip to the police station.
“It would be nice to have a carry-on storage space.”
…
Sheath the weapon again.
Dean circled back and forth along the Virginia Street Bridge, repeatedly surveying the nearby terrain, looking for cover and bunkers, fully prepared for possible combat.
After the inspection, he returned to the car and closed his eyes to recharge his batteries.
time flies.
The sun dipped below the horizon and darkness enveloped the city of Reno.
At eight o'clock in the evening, Marco came to the car.
At ten o'clock, Dean, wearing a black suit, left the car, took a bag of clothes and hid in the shadows of the alley.
Click, click, click, a thin, hoarse sound like a mouse, bones crackling, and a hiss of suppressed pain. The human-shaped black figure on the ground expanded and contracted with claws and teeth.
One minute later.
A young white man with a height of over 1.9 meters and wearing a black windbreaker walked out of the alley. He had short flaxen hair and sharp features, but his temples were slightly sunken, and his lips were angled downwards. He had a sad look on his face, but there were glistening beads of sweat hanging on his forehead. , seems to have just exercised vigorously.
"Well, that's right. The preparation time and pain for the simulation have been greatly reduced than before, and this face is exactly the same as in the photo. From now on, I am Reuben Van Helsing," Dean said to He looked in the makeup mirror, grinned, threw away the mirror and walked boldly towards the brightly lit downtown area.
In order to perfectly fit the scene in the book, he did not carry any other items except a wallet and a shackle.
…
"Make way, man..." Dean gently patted the shoulder of a tall leather-clad man and ducked into the lover's bar.
In an instant, scorching heat waves and surging music hit us.
The spherical colored lights on the ceiling rotated and radiated dazzling light. On the dance floor, pairs of young men and women hugged each other intimately and moved slowly to the music.
At the bar counter and the wine table, the "hunters" who came to express their passion shook their wine glasses, looking around for prey with a hint of sobriety in their eyes.
Dean crossed the dance floor and sat down on the high stool in front of the stage. He was about to order a drink when he suddenly froze.
The protagonist Luben in the book is half drunk in a lover's bar. As a perfect imitator, Dean must also restore every detail.
But one of Dean's principles after traveling through time was to prohibit drinking.
"If you don't drink, it will ruin the plot and make the imitation fail halfway. But if you drink, it will break my principles."
Dean struggled with himself for a moment, and a trace of determination flashed in his eyes.
"No, I have become Lu Ben now, and it is not against the rules for me to drink!"
He tapped his index finger on the table, raised his head and smiled,
"Ten mojitos..."
The bartender in a striped vest who was wiping the wine bottle with a piece of white cloth froze, and his eyes under his refreshing crew cut showed a hint of surprise. The mojitos were not high in alcohol content, but this guy had ten glasses of them at once.
"If you want to get drunk, I suggest you choose whiskey, or pure vodka, or tequila. If you want to be more exciting, have a Bloody Mary... Um, wait, God! You are Ruben, the long-lost guy. ?”
"Unfortunately, I am Ruben's cousin Pete, but everyone says we are very similar. It's a pity that I will never see him again..." Dean said nonsense with a sad expression.
"Really? Poor Ruben, the eternal virgin in the lover's bar." The bartender crossed himself on his chest and whispered a prayer, "May he be alive. By the way, his taste is exactly the same as yours, and he only loves mojitos."
Dean nodded, "Has Luben ever talked to you about his works before?"
"No, he is a listener and has been listening to me tell a hundred stories about my ex-girlfriends."
…
soon.
Ten glasses of mojitos were lined up in front of Dean. The drinks reflected an alluring luster under the light. This spectacular sight immediately attracted the attention of many people.
This is obviously a frustrated man who is drinking to drown his sorrows. Who can comfort his wounded heart?
"How about buying me a drink?" A lady with a short nose ring, brown skin, and a seductive slit under her elastic vest came over and breathed hot air into Dean's ear.
"Sorry, I'm not in the mood today."
Dean glanced at the place, picked up a glass of mojito and drank it in one gulp.
The cool, refreshing, sweet yet sour wine pours into your mouth and slides down your throat.
The long-awaited alcohol stimulation made Dean squint his eyes comfortably.
…
Just one drink after another.
For two and a half hours, Dean drank without stopping, and for the first time he felt that his 16-point physical strength was a worry. His ability to withstand drunkenness was simply inhuman, and his powerful kidneys prevented him from going to the toilet to take a drink. Alcohol is excreted in the urine.
Mojito, mojito.
Rum, sugar cane, mint, soda...
I don’t know how many cups I made.
It made his eyes black and his wrist almost broken.
Finally, the time came to half past eleven in the evening.
Dean suddenly raised his hand to stop.
He raised his slightly heated face, and the music around him waxed and waned like the tide. The bartender in front of him split into two people, and hazy dotted lines were drawn around him.
Dean was very drunk.
As soon as he stood up, his feet were as light as stepping on cotton. At the same time, he couldn't help but sway his shoulders and arms to the dynamic music, and danced a funny swing dance.
But I felt an unprecedented level of relaxation and comfort.
Suddenly, Dean seemed to have untied the shackles that had bound his body for so long.
"Ha ha."
Dean grinned with an exaggerated smile, took a few photos of the knife on the wine table and left the bar.
…
The spring night breeze is slightly cool.
The neon lights on bar and casino signs are dazzling.
Wearing a black windbreaker, he was a tall drunkard with a height of 1.9 meters. He let out giggles one after another. He was so shaken that he even threw himself at the guardrail on the side of the road, causing the lovers on the street to laugh.
Then he walked through the downtown area like a roly-poly, heading towards the quiet streets at night and the bridge over the Truckee River.
The night wind blows.
The flushed face and half-closed eyes alternated between sobriety and intoxication.
Heart pounding.
It was getting closer, under the night, the dark Virginia Street Bridge was already close at hand, its rigid outline like a monster's bloody mouth.
Dean couldn't help but hold his breath.
Can fantasy become reality?
Success or failure depends on this!
…
Stay at the bridge until midnight.
Ta-ta-ta-ta.
Amidst the sound of heavy footsteps, Ruben Van Helsing finally couldn't help but step onto the bridge. Holding the guardrail with one hand, he slowly set off towards the other side.
Under the bridge, the moonlit river surged, and on the bridge a few bats flew around in mid-air, like guests at the theater.
The walk from the beginning to the end of the bridge was only a hundred meters, and the man delayed it for five minutes.
Then that drunk and confused face became ugly.
There was no one around.
At twelve o'clock, Luben was drunk,
Everything fits the plot, but there is no woman in red!
"Did I guess wrong? Is the change in the progress of the investigation misleading? There is no so-called Mary in Red at all?"
"Or is my imitation still missing some key condition?"
He lay down by the guardrail at the end of the bridge and sighed in despair.
The sighs crossed the bridge and spread far into the night.
Immediately afterwards, a gust of wind blew over, brushing against the skin, and the surrounding air rippled like water, becoming moist and sticky, while a mist surged across the bridge.
There was a "pop" sound in Dean's ears, as if a blister had been popped.
The next second, his disappointed face froze, he held his breath and turned around.
Ten meters away, beside the guardrail on the other side of the Virginia Street Bridge, a figure appeared without warning in a place that was empty just now.
It was like she appeared out of thin air, and even God's perspective couldn't capture where she came from.
She sat on the guardrail with her back to Dean, looking down at the raging Truckee River below. She wore a stunning red dress and long flaxen hair draped over her shoulders, gently dancing in the night breeze.
As for that graceful back, her neck is as beautiful and slender as a swan, and the exposed skin is so white that it shines. From her back to her waist, the lines narrow rapidly and then rise, as graceful as a fertile hill.
But at this moment, this back figure is filled with a sad temperament, and one can't help but feel pity after just one look at it.
The bright moonlight is also eclipsed here.
She is like a goddess in a red dress who is ready to fly away on the wind at any time.
…
Faco!
I guessed it right!
Fantasy becomes reality.
Mary, the lady in red, is here.
Strong excitement shot through Dean's body like electricity, and goose bumps appeared.
He suddenly rushed towards the woman!
(End of chapter)
