It was a very suspicious note, Calvin knew, but it wasn't the moment to get suspicious—on the other side of the locker, the "homeless man" jumped up, the coat that had covered his head and fell, revealing the miniature black microphone in his ear. The "homeless man" pressed the microphone and calmly reported to the other end of the microphone.

"It's him, there's nothing wrong with that. ”

Calvin faintly heard the man's voice, and he sprang out without hesitation, swearing he had never been so fast in his life.

His heart was pounding, his feet were on the floor, and his knees were a little weak. He hopes his speed won't be compromised by this. A large black woman stood there clutching her breakfast, looking at Calvin in shock as he ran out.

Calvin squeezed through the gap between her and the wall.

The corridor appears narrow and long at this moment.

As the note said, there is a door on the left side three hundred meters away, and next to it stands a sign that reads "Employee Passage". Calvin slammed the door open with his shoulder, and fled up the dimly lit staircase.

At the same time, like a hound, the "Tramp" chased after Calvin. As he rushed into the hallway, he also saw the black woman Calvin had seen, and he slammed into the woman's shoulder, knocking the hot dog in her hand to the ground.

The "homeless" could feel the warmth on his shoulders, and the aroma of yellow mustard rushed into his nostrils.

"Get out of here—"

The "homeless man" cursed the damn hot dog angrily, and he quickly steadied himself and continued to charge forward, the woman letting out a high-pitched, rap-like growl behind him.

But the "tramp" didn't care about that at all, what he cared about was that Calvin's figure had disappeared from the hallway, and his footsteps could still be faintly heard in the hallway.

The ill-touched light bulb made a buzzing electric current above the "homeless man's" head, and the miserable white light kept flickering. He slowed down a few hundred meters later - two identical emergency doors appeared on either side of the hallway, and he quickly looked at the nameplate on the door: [Staff Passage], which had the words on it.

The "tramp" frowned, and behind the door to his right, he heard the heavy footsteps as he went upstairs.

He slammed the door open and rushed in.

The featureless, boring emergency door bounced back a few times under the impact, making a creaking sound.

"Click-"

Then, in inertia, that door was shut.

……

"Hell, guy, are you pulling into your crotch, me......"

One morning was interrupted by two people in a row to breakfast, and the black woman let out a long list of complaints.

She glared down at the hot dog on the ground, the yellow mustard being trampled all over the place, and she was almost going crazy.

Anyone who treats mustard-flavored hot dogs like this should go to hell -

She thought, and then she turned around to find the damn homeless man and give him a little color.

However, after only a dozen seconds, there was no sign of anyone in the narrow corridor behind her, which was completely inhuman.

"Oh, what the is this?"

The woman frowned and muttered.

Her gaze wandered to the emergency door not far away, with a boring sign standing next to it.

【Employee passage under maintenance】

Thundered......

Another subway came in.

There was a gust of wind in the hallway, and the woman shivered, and she suddenly felt a little cold.

So she licked her fat lips with her tongue out of dissatisfaction, and turned to walk towards the exit.

She needs to buy a little more to fill her stomach.

She didn't know that she was the last person in the world to see a "homeless man".

Calvin made his way from the staff passage to the upper level of the subway station, and thankfully the number of people in the subway station had gradually increased by this time.

He tried to hide his form in the crowd, and then, as the crowd scrambled onto the subway, he took off his coat, turned it over, and draped it over himself again.

On the other side of the dress, a simple and mediocre khaki jacket, Calvin deftly tugged along the zipper of the garment through the gap in the crowd, and the hem of a blue plaid shirt appeared on the inside of the jacket. He pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses from the inside of his hat and put them on his face, the lenses taking on an old-fashioned brown color. His hat was also turned upside down, and the words on his forehead were prominently read – We love Caltech!

Calvin got off the subway about two blocks from the train station, and no one gave him a second look. Now he looks like the most ordinary college student, the kind of nerd who doesn't like girls.

He rummaged through what Aizak had left him in the toilet of a fast-food restaurant.

About two thousand dollars in cash—not much, but enough to survive the next short escape.

Some props and cosmetics used to disguise appearance.

and three driver's licenses, all three of which are distinct photographs in which Calvin's silhouette can be faintly discerned.

Alberta Bampton, a redneck kid from Iowa.

Adam Tardiff, from New York.

Finally, there is Erin Clift, from Florida.

Calvin glared at the beautiful female face on the last driver's license.

He stretched out his finger and rubbed the surface of the three cards.

Compared to a real driver's license, there is a slight difference in the smoothness of the surface of these three licenses. And if you look closely, you will realize that the photos of these three driver's licenses are not so clear, and there is a slight pixel sense in the font.

It didn't take much brains for Calvin to know that these were three fake driver's licenses that had been rushed out in an emergency — and in general, Dr. Holden did not approve of Calvin's use of completely fake documents.

He would always try to get a complete set of false identities for Calvin, and on the basis of the false identities, all the identities were real.

This can greatly reduce the risk of Calvin exposure.

However, the situation that Calvin is facing now is indeed too urgent, and Calvin can almost feel the anxiety that came from Isaac when he made these three fake driver's licenses.

He sighed softly, pulled out Alberta's driver's license, put it in his wallet, and tucked the rest of it close to his body.

"Anyway, thank you, Isaac. ”

He sat down in the bathroom for a moment, staring at the dirty bathroom door and muttering softly.

After leaving the fast-food restaurant, he spent the next four hours walking through the city's bustling districts, walking from 14th Street to Richard Street and back again. He walked back and forth in the department store many times, changing his appearance several times.

After carefully making sure that no one was following him several times, he made a roundabout way to his destination, the Greyhound bus station.

However, before he could set foot in the gate of the station, the bitter feeling on the tip of his tongue appeared again.

Calvin slowed down sharply.

The station was quite noisy and crowded, full of foreigners carrying 28-inch crusty suitcases, people pushing trolleys selling ice cream, and children screaming and crying, and the queues were long. The air conditioning here didn't work very well, and all the people were distraught, their faces shiny and shining in the light.

Calvin lowered his eyes, and he also put on the same look of annoyance, and moved to the front of the sign, pretending to look carefully at the scrolling messages.

He could feel the presence of those people—the less bored, less distraught Adventists.

The man sitting on a bench drinking coffee looks like a Wall Street banker, the housewife coaxing the child in her arms (the child's cry repeats itself every once in a while, and Calvin suspects it's just a loudspeaker hidden in a doll), the cheerful college student laughing with his peers (who, though yelling, keep their eyes wary of their surroundings......

Consciously or unconsciously, their position in the station just forms an encirclement, and any action by all young men, whether they are leaving directly or going to the window to buy tickets, will attract their careful observation. Calvin had no doubt that the "Wall Street banker" had a gun in his briefcase at his feet, which he recognized.

He struggled to adjust his breathing, desperately trying to figure out what to do in his head.

There was no way he could just leave, Calvin thought, he was sure they had noticed him when he came into sight. A young man with a rucksack on his back, just glancing at the sign and preparing to leave, was too suspicious.

And unlike the previous situation when he encountered the homeless man, Calvin was now completely surrounded by them, and even if it caused chaos, it would be very difficult for him to escape.

Calvin grabbed the strap of his canvas bag.

He slowly followed the crowd to the queue window.

In his pocket, he unconsciously rubbed his fingers against the dagger in his pocket.

He still had one last glimmer of hope in his heart - if he didn't get the conductor's attention, he might still be able to get a ticket, and then fish in troubled waters under the noses of these Adventist bastards and rush to another city.

However......

When Calvin finally reached the window, his heart pounded heavily on his ribs.

He saw a young man with a furious flush on his face and a sharp gaze.

The man had a conspicuous cross around his neck, the angel on the cross with wings outstretched, and the pupils of purple artificial crystals staring at Calvin's pale face with ill will. 166 Reading Network