[Ran^Text^Library] []"No need to register. You can use tokens and you're good to go. You can buy it from me, and you can buy it on the machine. The man looked at Boleyn carefully.

"You're his dad?"

"No, I just wanted to find him."

"I can look up the server. See if anyone is logged in to Dimension Tracking right now. ”

"Can you go up?"

"Yes."

"Great."

But this guy didn't get his hands dirty to check the server; He just stared at Bolin with his eyes through his drooping dirty hair.

Ah, got it. We're haggling. All right. You don't know what the average person thinks, Boleyn thought. After a while, two $20 bills fell into the pockets of the guy's jeans that had not been washed for a long time.

"His avatar's name is Stricker, see if that helps." Boleyn told him.

He muttered, "I'll be right back." He disappeared into the house. Boleyn saw him reappear at the other end of the room, heading towards his office.

He came back 5 minutes later.

"There's a guy named Stricker, he's playing Dimension Tracking, and he's just logged in. Site 43, there. ”

"Thank you."

"Well." This guy is looking at that science fiction book again.

Boleyn thought wildly: what should he do? Let the guy clear the arcade? No, that would make Travis find out. He should have called 911. But he had better see if the boy was alone and if he had a gun on him.

He envisioned a scenario in which he walked by casually, pulled the gun out of the boy's waist, and controlled him until the police arrived.

No, you can't do that, you can't do that anyway. Boleyn's palms were sweating, and he slowly walked towards Site-43. He looked quickly towards the corner. There is a view of Aerea on the top of the computer screen, but the chair is empty.

But there was no one in the aisle. Site 44 is also empty, and inside 42 a girl with short green hair is playing a kung fu game.

Bolin walked over to her, "I'm sorry. ”

The girl is slamming her opponent. Eventually, the monster fell to its death, and her avatar climbed onto the corpse and twisted its head off. "Hmph, what's the matter?" She didn't lift her eyes.

"The boy who just played Dimension Tracing here, where is he?"

"Well, I don't know. Jimmy came over and said something and he left, just now. "Who's Jimmy?"

"You know, it's that guy."

Damn it! I had just paid the dog $40 for something, and he sent a message to Travis. I'm not qualified as a police officer.

Boleyn glared at the fellow, still obsessed with the novel.

The professor slammed open the exit door and rushed out. Accustomed to the stinging of the darkness, he paused in the alley, looked left and right, and saw a young man hurrying away with his head down.

Don't do anything stupid, he reminded himself, pulling out his BlackBerry.

The boy ran before him.

Bolin hesitated for a second, then ran away.

Hamilton, the inspector from the Sacramento Attorney General's Office, hung up. With his phone hanging in his hand, he pondered the conversation he had just had, which was full of so-called political and business clichés.

He paced back and forth in the halls of the State Bureau of Investigation, considering a few options.

Eventually, he returned to Terrence's office.

The director sat with his back in a chair as he read an online news report about the case. The police came close to catching the killer at the blogger's friend's house, but he missed, and his run could cause panic for more people on the Monterey Peninsula.

Terrence taps on the keyboard, and another TV station appears. The special presenter apparently likes to refer to Travis as a "video game killer" rather than a mask or a roadside cross to describe the case.

He went on to tell how the boy tortured the victims and then killed them.

He finally spoke: "Look, Terrence, they're getting more and more concerned, Attorney General." He held up his phone, as if using it as a shield to block the punches.

"We're all concerned," Terrence responded, "and the whole peninsula is concerned." Now it's our top priority, as I said earlier. His face was gloomy, "But does the Sacramento side have an opinion on how we handle this case?"

"That's not the problem." Royce seemed to answer.

"We're doing everything we can."

"I admire that agent of yours, Katyusha."

"Oh, she's top notch. Nothing escaped her eyes. ”

He nodded lightly and seemed thoughtful, "The Attorney General feels sorry for the victims, and I feel sorry for them. Royce's words were full of sympathy. Trying to recall his last sad incident. It was probably when his daughter had her appendix cut that he was in bed with his mistress.

"A tragedy."

"I know I'm a person who sounds like a shabby record, a little old-school. But I do think blogging is not a good thing. ”

"Indeed." Terrence agreed, "It's the eye of the hurricane. ”

The Eye of the Hurricane is a calm place with a beautiful blue sky, Royce added in his mind.

Terrence took the initiative to say, "However, Katyusha did ask Chilton to post a post asking the boy to turn himself in. He also gave us some information about the server and is an agent in Scandinavia. ”

"I understand. That is, as long as the blog is still hanging on it, it means that the work is not done yet. "Meaning: you're not done yet." I'm going to keep an eye on the issues that help us, as well as some questions about Chilton. ”

Katyusha said she would pay attention.

"She's too busy. I doubt her findings are valuable. I really don't want Inspector Katyusha to be distracted by this case. I wonder if I can get involved too. ”

"You?"

"You wouldn't mind, Terrence? Can I take a look at the archives. I can be a staff officer. I actually feel that Katyusha may be too kind. ’.

"Too kind?"

"Terrence, you have the clandestibility to hire her." Royce knew that the sheriff still recognized the compliment, even though Katyusha had come to the state bureau four years before Terrence had come to the bureau. He continued: "She's smart, but a little naïve."

"You mean to say that she's gained something from Chilton that she just didn't realize?"

"Possibly."

Terrence looked nervous, "Alright then, I'll apologize for her." is caused by distraction. Who of us wouldn't? Her mother's case distracted her. She's already doing her best. ”