Chris glanced over, then pulled the bedsheet off the bed and tossed it over the corpse.

　　"Wrap it up and put it in the car."

　　"Huh?"

　　"Wrap the body and put it in the trunk. Mia, come clean up. We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

　　"Okay!"

　　Mia was much calmer now.

　　She put on a hoodie, tidied up the things in the car, and casually stuffed the thirty thousand dollars that had been left on the bed into her bag.

　　"This blood..."

　　"Ignore it. The key is not to leave any traces."

　　Chris urged Mia to leave, then turned and walked out of the RV.

　　Just as he stepped out, he used a sliver of spiritual power to cast a minor purification spell, erasing all traces.

　　"Get in the car, we're going back to the funeral home."

　　Chris urged as he got into the car.

　　"Back to Ghost?"

　　Bruno asked as he started the car.

　　"Find a way to get rid of the body cleanly. After a few days, things will quiet down."

　　"You mean..."

　　Chris nodded and said softly, "As long as there's no body, there's no case. No one cares about a small-time punk like Jimmy. Melissa will think he ran off because of his debts. Even if he comes looking for Mia, there's nothing he can do, because Mia already gave him the money... You can testify to that, and so can I. He just ran off with the money!"

Chapter 11: Aftermath

　　Mia sat in the back seat, silent.

　　It was clear she was terrified.

　　Bruno, on the other hand, seemed much calmer. You could tell by how steadily he drove the whole way.

　　He even cracked a few jokes, gradually helping Mia calm down.

　　Chris said nothing, just sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking out the window.

　　What a day this had been!

　　"Chris, there's a cop."

　　The car suddenly slowed down, and Bruno sounded a bit nervous.

　　In the back, Mia's breathing quickened, her hands clenched into fists.

　　At the entrance to U Avenue, police lights flashed.

　　A police officer stood there, holding a glow stick in one hand and resting the other on the grip of his gun, waving at Bruno.

　　"Don't be nervous."

　　Chris said calmly, "Looks like it's Officer Sharon."

　　As he spoke, the car had already stopped next to the officer, and Chris rolled down the window.

　　"Officer Sharon."

　　"Chris? Bruno? Mia? What are you all doing together so late?"

　　Sweat beaded on Bruno's forehead, and Mia looked pale.

　　Chris remained calm, his tone even: "The owner of the Hua Yongsheng Funeral Home on Mobily Street wanted to talk to me about something. I happened to run into Bruno and Mia there buying funeral supplies. We had dinner together, so we're coming back late."

　　As he spoke, he stuck his head out the window and glanced at the police car by the roadside.

　　"What's going on? Why are you still on duty so late?"

　　"Routine check, nothing much."

　　There was a hint of irritation in Sharon's voice.

　　It was clear he wasn't happy.

　　He glanced into the car, then waved his hand: "Go on, get home early."

　　"OK, thanks for your hard work, officer."

　　Chris withdrew, giving Bruno a look.

　　Bruno calmed down, started the car, and drove onto U Avenue.

　　"Damn, that scared the hell out of me."

　　"Me too!"

　　In the back seat, Mia suddenly spoke in a low voice.

　　Chris could tell she was completely calm now.

　　The car stopped outside the funeral home.

　　Mia got out to open the door, while Bruno opened the trunk and carried Jimmy's body into the funeral home.

　　"Where should I put it?"

　　"Put it in the morgue for now. We'll find a chance to deal with it later."

　　Of course, they could burn the body in the crematorium right now.

　　But firing up the cremator would make too much noise in the middle of the night and would alarm the neighbors.

　　Who in their right mind runs a cremator in the middle of the night? That would be like announcing to everyone that the funeral home is burning a body.

　　The best way was to leave it in the morgue.

　　When they cremated other bodies, they could dispose of Jimmy at the same time—no one would ever know.

　　"Chris, you're really calm."

　　Bruno put the body away and grabbed three beers from the fridge.

　　Mia bit off the cap with her teeth, chugged the whole bottle, and let out a long, heavy breath.

　　"I'm a funeral service professional—it's not like I've never seen a corpse. Besides, in New York, there are robberies, shootings, and murders every day. I've been to Cypress Hills, so this is nothing."

　　"Damn, you actually dared to go to Cypress Hills?"

　　Bruno downed half a beer, then exclaimed in shock.

　　Cypress Hills—the killing ground of New York.

　　Located in Brooklyn, under the jurisdiction of the 75th Precinct, covering 5.5 miles, it's the most dangerous area in New York.

　　According to NYPD reports, there were 48 shootouts in Cypress Hills in just the first half of the year.

　　Shootouts, not just shootings.

　　It's a place even the police are reluctant to respond to.

　　There's a joke about Cypress Hills: if you call the police during a shootout and they show up within two hours, they must have taken a wrong turn.