William took the stairs two at a time, his heart thumping like a war drum in the narrow stairwell.
Jessica Jones stood by the street, her figure appearing particularly tall under the dim yellow streetlights.
She wore her signature black leather jacket, her hands in her pockets.
Her face looked like it had been chiseled from the ice of the North Pole.
William even felt that the White mist she exhaled carried ice shards, stinging his cheeks.
Seeing him appear, Jessica Jones simply nodded, her chin slightly raised, signaling him to follow, then turned and walked deeper into the street.
"Ms. Jones, may I ask where we are going?"
William jogged a few steps to catch up with her pace, his briefcase swaying slightly in his hand, the hard objects inside clinking softly.
He subconsciously activated Trajectory Prediction, trying to glean more information from Jessica's steady steps and the subtle changes in their surroundings.
"42nd Street, a warehouse."
Jessica didn't look back, her voice completely devoid of emotion.
"Someone hired me to find a missing girl. The clues point there."
William secretly clicked his tongue.
42nd Street, one of the "hearts" of Hell's Kitchen.
Even for locals, it was a place that required utmost vigilance.
All sorts of grey transactions and underground forces intertwined here like poisonous vines buried deep underground.
A clue about a young girl pointing here... William could smell the ominous scent in the air.
This girl was likely in grave danger.
He silently marked "42nd Street warehouse" in his mind as "High-Risk Area A-level."
"That... what are the specifics? Victim information, disappearance time, any witnesses?"
He tentatively asked, simultaneously quickly building a risk assessment model in his mind, which was his instinct as a "data collector."
Jessica stopped, her gaze like two cold scalpels, cutting across William's face under the dim streetlight.
"Are you sure you want to hear it?"
There was a hint of subtle sarcasm in her tone.
"Some data, once heard, can never be deleted."
William tightened his grip on the briefcase handle, the indentation still digging into his hand.
The life-and-death moment in the alley replayed in his mind; the sweat on his palms had long dried, and now, gripping the briefcase again, the stinging sensation from the indentation felt like a comforting anchor.
He felt less fear and more resolve about what Jessica was about to say.
William took a deep breath of Hell's Kitchen's unique murky air, nodded, his eyes firm: "I'm here to collect first-hand risk data, the more detailed, the better."
"Eighteen-year-old college student, Emily Chen.
She disappeared from her dorm three days ago; her roommate last saw her rushing out after receiving a text message."
Jessica resumed walking, her tone as calm as if reporting news unrelated to her.
"The Police considered it a voluntary departure by an adult, made a perfunctory record, and refused to investigate further. Her parents found me and offered five thousand U.S. dollars."
William's temple throbbed; the sum of five thousand U.S. dollars was like a red-hot branding iron, startling him.
This was an astronomical amount for a typical missing person case.
To warrant a top private investigator of Jessica Jones's caliber to personally intervene and choose to raid at night, the complexity of the case far exceeded a "teenage runaway."
"Was the text message content found?"
"It invited her to a so-called 'photography studio' on 42nd Street for a part-time model interview."
Jessica's lips curved into a cold arc.
"Sound familiar?"
William's throat tightened, a chill running through him.
It was that same old trick again, the bait in Hell's Kitchen used to lure unsuspecting girls; he could almost see the girl's despair after falling into the trap.
A typical enticing trap, specifically targeting young girls who were inexperienced.
Such scams, operating under the guise of high-paying part-time jobs, proliferated in Hell's Kitchen like mold in a gutter; beneath their seemingly glamorous surface often lay a path to a dark, sunless prison.
He could almost envision Emily Chen's terrified and helpless face.
"So, we're going to that 'photography studio' now?"
"To be precise, we're going to that warehouse.
I've already verified it; the 'photography studio' at the registered address is completely fictitious.
That place is an abandoned warehouse, but surveillance shows that unidentified vehicles and personnel have been frequently entering and exiting within the last week."
Jessica's pace unconsciously quickened a few steps.
"Moreover, Emily isn't the first.
According to the intelligence I've gathered, over the past two months, at least three young girls with similar backgrounds have disappeared in the same area in a similar manner."
William felt a chill shoot straight up his spine to the back of his neck, as if a cold hand had been placed on his neck; he could almost hear the silent screams of the missing girls.
Organized crime?
Human trafficking?
Or an even more heinous underground industry chain?
Whichever it was, it meant they would be facing a group of inhumane villains.
He subconsciously touched his skin; the slight warmth provided by Resilient Skin felt as thin as a pane of window glass in the face of the impending darkness.
It would break with a gust of wind.
But at least, having it was better than not having it.
He could only comfort himself this way... Should he buy a handy weapon?
Just as a self-defense measure before acquiring offensive capabilities.
They passed through several dimly lit, trash-strewn streets, the surroundings becoming increasingly desolate and dilapidated.
The once somewhat lively neighborhood was gradually replaced by abandoned factories and empty parking lots.
The streetlights also became sparse, their light flickering like will-o'-the-wisps in the darkness.
"We're here."
Jessica stopped in front of a three-story warehouse emitting a strong smell of gasoline and decay.
William looked up at the crumbling building.
The exterior walls were mottled, large areas of paint peeled off, revealing rusted metal framework.
Most windows were boarded up with wood, and the few remaining panes of glass were cracked, like the eyes of a lurking beast.
But William vaguely caught sight of faint light and almost imperceptible human figures moving through the gaps in a few roughly boarded-up windows on the second floor.