Boss Kevin used tongs to flip the lamb chops, and soon the lamb fat began to sizzle out. Bright yellow drops of fat bubbled up on the meat, making a “sizzling” sound, and together with the spreading aroma of meat, David Thompson's salivary glands started working.

A plate of lamb chops, about the size of an adult's palm, was served. Henry ate two pieces, and David Thompson ate the rest.

Another plate of lamb chops was brought out. Henry ate one piece, and David Thompson ate the rest.

Yet another plate of lamb chops was served. Henry didn’t eat any, and David Thompson finished them all.

After David Thompson finished off the fourth plate of lamb chops, Boss Kevin started sweating on his forehead. “Alright, guys, I’ll give you another two hundred bucks. Can we call it a meal now?”

Chapter 0008: The Cat in the Animal Trap

Sitting in the taxi, Henry took out a stack of hundred-dollar bills—sixty-five crisp Franklins.

“We spent $250 at the storage auction, $150 to hire the car, so I’ll take out $400 first. That leaves $6,100. According to our agreement, you get sixty percent, I get forty.”

As Henry spoke, he counted out thirty-six bills. “$3,600 for you. The extra hundred can go toward the cab fare.”

David Thompson nodded in agreement. “And the interest for pawning your truck—we’ll split that.”

Henry said, “Forget it, I’ll cover that. After all, you found the storage unit, and I handled the rest.”

Hearing this, David Thompson hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Boss Fox, aren’t you curious how I was able to pinpoint the warehouse with the massage chair?”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

“Nope!”

“Then there you go! Since I know I won’t get an answer, why bother asking? Would it affect our friendship? Besides, who doesn’t have a few secrets? I’m not interested in prying into other people’s privacy.”

David Thompson laughed and said, “I like the way you think.”

Henry said smugly, “You’ll like me even more as you get to know me!”

Out of the $6,000 profit, his share was $2,400. With the extra $200, the $2,600 was enough to redeem his old Ford F150.

According to the contract, the daily interest during the pawn period was one-fiftieth of the truck’s value, so two days came to exactly $100.

Driving the truck, Henry turned on the car stereo and played some music by the godfather of reggae, Bob Marley.

David Thompson couldn’t appreciate this style of music, so he looked out the window.

Watching the trees along the road whiz by, he asked curiously, “Where are we going?”

Henry gave him a mysterious smile and winked. “We’ve made some money, so now it’s time to enjoy ourselves. I’m taking you to a great place—you’ll feel good from your hair down to your toenails!”

The “great place” he mentioned was the red-light street in the suburbs of Flagstaff.

Henry was clearly a regular here. As soon as he got out of the car, several girls standing at the motel entrance swarmed over, cooing and flirting:

“Hey, Boss Fox, you haven’t been here in ages. We thought you were dead.”

“Yeah, I was planning to go to your funeral, but never got an invitation.”

“You owe us for our tears. I even asked a friend to look for your body, hehe.”

Henry grinned, arms around the girls, his smile crooked. “If I died, it’d definitely be in your beds. As for compensation? Compensate for what? Are those really tears? Are your eyes down there?”

David Thompson was stunned by the scene. He had just gotten out of the car, but seeing this, he immediately got back in and closed the door.

Henry called out, “Hey, buddy, come join the fun!”

“Sorry, I don’t like hanging out with girls,” David Thompson replied firmly.

Hearing this, a young man with heavy makeup but a prominent Adam’s apple quickly walked over, a charming smile on his pretty face. “Hello, sweetheart, what a coincidence—I don’t like girls either. How about I keep you company?”

David Thompson locked the car door from the inside and turned up the reggae music until it was almost deafening. He’d never found this music so enjoyable.

Henry was really something—he stayed inside for a whole hour and still hadn’t come out.

David Thompson got bored, so he thought about letting out the little bug to experiment and see if he could discover any other abilities.

He felt that this little bug wasn’t just a clone; it probably had even greater powers.

The red-light street was in poor condition. He took out his phone to check the map and found that he was already in the northwest outskirts of Flagstaff. Beyond that was a patch of woods, so he decided to drive to the edge of the forest.

The suburban woods were dense, an extension of the Grand Canyon National Park forest, filled with yellow pine, western hemlock, western yellow pine, and American sycamore trees.

David Thompson got out of the car and suddenly heard a faint cry: “Meow!”

He didn’t pay much attention at first, but just as he released the little bug, he heard the “meow” again, this time several times in a row.

David Thompson wasn’t a cat lover, but he could tell something was wrong with the cat’s cries, so he followed the sound to investigate.

On the high trunk of a western yellow pine, he found the source of the sound. At the junction of the trunk and the canopy, there was an animal trap. A large yellow cat with brown spots was caught in it, meowing in terror and despair.

The animal trap had been modified, with gears attached. After clamping onto the yellow cat, the gears had bitten deep into its body. Blood was dripping out, and just watching from below made David Thompson wince in pain.