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Soon, Dylan and Alma arrived at Bradley's office.
For the past year, Catrina had been studying magic with Morin, so she naturally couldn't continue to be Bradley's assistant. So Bradley had hired a new one.
However, since she had just been rescued on her way to get the car repaired, she was temporarily back to being an assistant.
Led by Catrina, Dylan and Alma entered Bradley's office.
"Would you like some wine?" Bradley had now changed his questioning routine. Instead of asking, "Would you like something to drink?" he now offered wine directly.
Evidently, he was afraid of hearing about strange drinks like "five-spice carrot and cilantro juice" again.
"No, sir, thank you. We're on duty," Dylan said, sitting in a single armchair.
"I will," Alma said from the other two-seater couch, clearly not planning to give Dylan any face.
"Alright..." Bradley let out a quiet sigh of relief.
At least someone is willing to play along and let me show off!
Bradley picked up the transparent liquid in the glass in front of him, just about to use the red edible dye hidden in his hand to turn it red when...
"I heard you have guests? How about we drink something else?" Morin pushed the door open and, without a word, went and sat on the sofa next to Alma.
Alma's eyes lit up when she saw Morin's face. The energy she had lost from the twelve-hour flight to Las Vegas and not having slept at all instantly returned.
It's just like how a man reacts when he sees a beautiful woman; a woman has a similar reaction when she sees a handsome man.
"Why did you come in? I told you to leave!" Bradley's face instantly darkened.
"I came to mooch a drink," Morin said with a smile, then greeted Alma and Dylan. "Hello, Officer Alma, and Banner... oh, Agent Dylan. Please tell me, you rarely get angry, right?"
"Angry?" Dylan was a little confused. "I... I rarely get angry."
"Okay, getting angry doesn't matter. Just don't turn green," Morin said, crossing his legs.
Dylan: "???"
"There are no drinks! Get out! There's no five-spice carrot and cilantro juice for you to drink here!" Bradley interrupted.
Damn it, can't my magic trick just succeed for once?
"Don't worry, I don't want any of those other drinks this time," Morin said to reassure Bradley. When Bradley looked at him, still a little suspicious, he said, "I want a cup of vinaigrette, black garlic, and mango juice!"
Everyone in the office: "???"
"Just get out of here!" Bradley yelled.
"Sir, this is how it is," Dylan said. "I'm an FBI agent. Since you know who we are, you should also know what we're doing. So, could you please leave and not interfere with our investigation?"
"Of course..." Morin shook his head decisively. "Not."
"...It seems you want to spend some time in an FBI interrogation room on charges of obstructing an investigation?" Dylan narrowed his eyes and pulled out his ID, his voice full of menace.
"Or, would you like to put an IRS agent who is on an assignment in an interrogation room, and then have your personal tax information audited?" Morin raised an eyebrow.
With a flick of his wrist, an IRS agent ID appeared in his hand.
It must be said that the best part of the magic world is that even when Morin uses magic openly, others will still think it's a magic trick.
Of course, this is generally not effective for magicians who know some magic.
However... Morin was using a spatial storage, not magic!
So, Dylan was shocked.
His current persona was that of an FBI agent who completely disdains magic, so it was normal for him to be surprised.
However, Dylan knew that this time, his surprise wasn't a deliberate act; it was genuine!
Dylan couldn't see through Morin's technique!
But what shocked Dylan the most was that IRS agent ID.
This is not scientific!
"You know that impersonating a public official is a crime, right?" Dylan hadn't found any flaws in the ID but still didn't quite believe it, so he decided to bluff Morin to see if he was a fake.
"Or, you could call and check?" Morin handed the ID to Dylan.
Dylan was silent for two seconds, took the ID, turned around, and went outside to make a call.
He was going to prove Morin wrong today!
"Are you really an IRS agent?" Alma was curious and started a conversation with Morin.
"What are you doing here? And... you know Mr. Bradley?"
"I am, of course," Morin nodded but didn't answer Alma's other questions. "Would you like something to drink?"
"..." Catrina, who was standing to the side, couldn't help but twitch at the corner of her mouth.
Nothing had happened between Morin and her in the past year, but she had seen him flirt with many girls.
So, she knew full well that Morin was trying to pick up another girl.
"Hmm..." Alma was thinking about what to say when Morin interrupted her.
"Let me guess, mango juice?" Morin smiled.
"How did you know?" Alma's eyes lit up.
"It's because he read your mind, of course..." Catrina shook her head inwardly.
"..." Bradley, on the other side, couldn't stand it. He glanced at Catrina, who was staring at Morin, then looked at Morin, who was flirting. He was furious.
He's flirting with another girl right in front of my daughter?
"Ahem, ahem!" Bradley began using his tried-and-true "clearing his throat" technique.
"It seems you need a good rest," Morin said, looking at Bradley.
"I think you should leave," Bradley said, his face dark.
"Alright... I was hoping to have a nice chat with you," Morin said, looking helpless. He then turned to Alma. "You need a good rest."
"What?" Alma was stunned. Then, she felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness come over her. Her vision went black, and she fell unconscious.
"What are you doing?" Dylan, who had just verified Morin's identity and pushed the door open, saw this scene and rushed over.
"I'm just letting Ms. Alma get some rest and, by the way, making sure she doesn't hear some things she shouldn't," Morin said calmly, still sitting in his seat.
He picked up an empty glass and shook it. Some wine-red liquid appeared in the cup.
"Would you like some wine?" Morin asked, offering the glass that had gone from empty to half full to Dylan.
"...I'm warning you, even though you're with the IRS, you absolutely cannot lay a hand on anyone from the ICPO or the FBI. This is..." Dylan was still dutifully playing his part as an actor.
But Morin wasn't going to cooperate with his performance.
I'm supposed to cooperate with your performance, but I'll just turn a blind eye~
"Alright, let's stop this meaningless argument, Mr. Dylan Rhodes," Morin interrupted Dylan.
The next words he said made both Dylan's and Bradley's faces change dramatically. "Or should I say, the fake Eye of Providence member?"
"What are you talking about?" Dylan frowned.
"I have to say, your acting is very good. But for a mind-reader, do you think your act is useful?" Morin pointed to his eyes. "I can see anything."
"Mind-reader? Are you talking about someone like that Merritt guy? Oh, if that's the case, all I can say is that while his little tricks are interesting, I don't think they'd work on me at all..."
"Is that so?" Morin narrowed his eyes. "Let me see... Hmm, 'Special Tuesday,' the man in the dress, and your father... Lionel?"
Dylan's eyes widened instantly.
Beside him, Bradley, who was observing the situation with rapt attention, stood up in shock.
"What?"
"How did you know?!" Dylan was stunned.
"Didn't I already answer that?" Morin raised an eyebrow, pointing to his eyes. "I saw it."
"...You're Lionel's son?" Bradley came over to Dylan and looked him up and down. "You don't look very much alike..."
Dylan: "???"
"Stay away from me!" Feeling that his father was on the verge of turning green, Dylan immediately motioned for Bradley to back off. "You murderer!"
"Murderer?" Morin asked, though he knew the answer.
He was going to expose everything today!
Morin's goal was to get what he wanted from Arthur. As for whether Dylan's revenge was successful, what did that have to do with him?
Besides, Dylan's target for revenge was wrong!
"Yes, he's the murderer!" Dylan knew he had been exposed. Although he still didn't know why, or rather, he didn't want to believe it, he started to give up and pointed a finger at Bradley.
"He drove my father to ruin!"
"He exposed all of my father's magic tricks at once, leaving my father with no magic shows to make a living. Caught off guard, he had to go to Arthur's insurance company to claim the insurance money!"
"But Arthur's lawyers helped him keep that ill-gotten money, and my father was in a desperate situation!"
"To survive and to raise me, my father had to perform a magic trick he hadn't yet mastered. He locked himself in a safe and sank it to the bottom of a river..."
At this point, Dylan choked up and couldn't continue.
"...I didn't force your father to his death," Bradley said after a long silence, looking at Dylan's red eyes.
"He and I were partners. We were both members of the Eye of Providence."
"What?" Dylan was completely stunned.
"...It was all planned. I was in charge of debunking his magic tricks, and he would perform new ones to maximize our profits, but... he made a mistake."
Bradley walked over to a desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a photo.
Then, Bradley slowly walked over to Dylan and handed him the photo.
"I didn't kill him. He killed himself."
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