628 A Trashy Journey
Yarin’s POV:
The sky was slightly bright. I squatted behind a few trash cans and carefully observed the ordinary apartment building before me.
This was one of the possible locations where terrorists might be hiding. I divided myself into several groups to monitor different suspected locations. The downside was that I had to shrink to the size of a rag doll. The upside was that it made it easier for me to hide.
It was already 4 AM, and the apartment building was still asleep. From the quiet appearance, it was impossible to tell if evil and blood were hidden inside.
The garbage truck came to empty the trash can. Taking advantage of the time when the garbage collector got out of the car, I secretly ran into his tool bag. Fortunately, cleaners liked listening to music with earphones. He didn’t notice anything. He swiped the door with an entry card and brought me into the locked glass door.
The security guards in the duty room chatted with the environmental protection workers familiarly. I took the opportunity to sneak away without alerting anyone.
The apartment wasn’t very high. It had eight floors, and each floor had four households. I entered the ventilation duct again to observe each household’s situation – please forgive me, I was not a peeping Tom, to make sure.
However, even at 6 AM, when the apartment began to wake up, I still couldn’t find any suspicious people. Everyone was living an ordinary life like ordinary residents. They slept, got up, ate breakfast, and then prepared to go to work or stay home for the day.
The other ‘me’s’ situations were not too bad either, and they could not find anything suspicious.
Perhaps real criminals would not always maintain their personalities like in the movies. They would live like ordinary people. Perhaps they had been pretending all along?
Perhaps they were afraid that a pair of eyes was watching in the dark, so they pretended to be no different from ordinary people every minute and second.
The thought that these criminals might even enjoy it and laugh as the police pass them by in confusion made me shudder.
Everyone was suspicious in my eyes, whether it was a sleepy office worker yawning and drinking coffee or an old man humming a folk song and watering the flowers.
I focused on observing those who chose to stay at home. The Silver Moon Pack was currently searching the entire city for the suspect. If I were the criminal, I wouldn’t rush out to die.
I felt slightly dizzy, a side effect of splitting myself. Compared to completely melting myself into a pile of plasticine, splitting into many small people was much less harmful. After all, each of me could condense into a miniature version of myself to rest when I couldn’t hold on.
However, it didn’t mean that there were no side effects. Separating the body wasn’t an easy task. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it would be for me.
First, there was a slight dizziness. Then, there was a ringing in my ears. Then, the back of my head started to hurt, reminding me that I had reached my limit.
It was 7 AM, and I was dying, but I still hadn’t found any suspects.
No matter how unwilling I was, I had to leave. Dying here was not worth it.
I got into the garbage truck again. The Silver Moon Pack placed great importance on the urban environment. Garbage trucks and cleaners would come to clean up the community almost every three hours.
In a nameless alley, ‘we’ gradually fused like melted wax. Almost at the moment, I was done, I felt a violent dizziness.
‘Blergh!’ I immediately vomited, some bright red blood mixed in.
It was not a serious problem. Every time I used my ability to fuse with my new body, some flesh and blood would be expelled. It was not a big deal, but it was a warning sign.
I couldn’t split myself up without restraint for the time being.
This surveillance seemed to have no effect, but I didn’t feel depressed because I suddenly thought of a new idea, just as I was dizzy and vomiting.
The feeling of my brain tumbling made me think of the trash in the garbage can. When the garbage collector grabbed them and dumped them into the compartment, they would tremble violently, and the garbage would pour down.
Every day, this scene was happening on the streets of the Silver Moon Pack. If there is a means of transportation that could go around the city without attracting attention, it was undoubtedly a garbage truck.
Since I used the garbage truck, wouldn’t the criminal do the same?
Since I escaped from the hospital through the garbage bag, wouldn’t the criminal disguise himself as garbage to move around?
Thinking of this, I finally got it.
The cleaners didn’t know if there were more or less garbage bags today than yesterday, so the criminals could throw themselves into the trash can when they needed to move and wait for the garbage truck to pick them up.
There were hundreds of small garbage transfer stations in the Silver Moon Pack. They formed a transportation network that extended in all directions. Criminals could come in one garbage truck and go in another.
Under the tight lockdown of the Silver Moon Pack, they could move freely! 𝙗𝙚𝒅𝒏𝒐𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝙘𝒐𝒎
The police would check every private car, bus, subway, and any other means of transportation, but who would take a second look at a garbage truck? It wasn’t that they were neglecting their duties. This was just a common mindset.
The garbage truck was huge and heavy, but people were used to its existence like they were used to air, so it did not attract any attention.
I didn’t have any evidence, but my intuition told me I was pretty close.
