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Before long, Dylan and Alma arrived at Bradley's office.
Over the past year, Catrina had been studying magic with Morin, so she naturally couldn't continue working as Bradley's assistant. He had already hired a new one.
However, since she had just been rescued while on her way to get the car repaired, she was temporarily back in that role.
Led by Catrina, Dylan and Alma entered the office.
"Would you like some wine?" Bradley asked.
He had clearly adjusted his usual routine. Instead of asking what they wanted to drink, he went straight to offering wine.
Apparently, he didn't want to hear about things like "five-spice carrot and cilantro juice" ever again.
"No, thank you, sir. We're on duty," Dylan said, sitting down in a single armchair.
"I will," Alma said from the two-seater sofa, with no intention of giving Dylan any face.
"Alright..." Bradley let out a quiet sigh of relief.
At least someone was willing to cooperate and let him show off.
Bradley picked up the transparent liquid in his glass, just about to use the red edible dye hidden in his hand-
When the door opened.
"I heard you have guests. How about we drink something else?"
Morin walked in and, without hesitation, sat down on the sofa.
Right next to Alma.
Alma's eyes lit up the moment she saw him. The exhaustion from a twelve-hour flight to Las Vegas, combined with zero sleep, vanished instantly.
The reaction was simple.
Just like how men react to beautiful women, women reacted the same way to handsome men.
"Why did you come in?" Bradley's face darkened immediately. "I told you to leave!"
"I came to mooch a drink," Morin said with a smile. Then he turned to Dylan and Alma.
"Hello, Officer Alma. And Banner-ah, Agent Dylan. Tell me, you rarely get angry, right?"
"Angry?" Dylan blinked. "I... rarely get angry."
"That's fine," Morin said. "Just don't turn green."
Dylan: "???"
"There are no drinks here!" Bradley snapped. "Get out! There's no five-spice carrot and cilantro juice for you!"
Damn it. Can't one magic trick ever work smoothly?
"Relax. I don't want any of those this time," Morin said calmly. When Bradley still looked suspicious, Morin added, "I want vinaigrette, black garlic, and mango juice."
Everyone in the room froze.
"...What?"
"Get out!" Bradley roared.
"Sir," Dylan said calmly, "I'm an FBI agent. Since you already know who we are, you should also know what we're here for. Please leave and don't interfere with our investigation."
"Of course," Morin nodded decisively.
"Not."
Dylan's eyes narrowed as he pulled out his badge. "Are you trying to experience an FBI interrogation room for obstructing an investigation?"
Morin raised an eyebrow. "Or would you like to put an IRS agent on assignment into an interrogation room and trigger a full audit of your personal taxes?"
With a flick of his wrist, an IRS agent ID appeared in his hand.
The beautiful thing about this world was that even when Morin openly used his abilities, people still assumed it was a magic trick.
That usually didn't work on magicians.
But this wasn't magic.
It was spatial storage.
Dylan was genuinely shocked.
His current persona was an FBI agent who disdained magic, so surprise made sense-but this wasn't acting.
He truly couldn't see through Morin's technique.
More importantly-
That IRS ID.
This was not scientific.
"You know impersonating a public official is a crime, right?" Dylan said, still unwilling to believe it. He decided to bluff.
"You can call and check," Morin said, handing him the ID.
Dylan hesitated for two seconds, then took it and walked out.
He was determined to expose Morin.
"Are you really an IRS agent?" Alma asked curiously once he left. "And... you know Mr. Bradley?"
"I am," Morin nodded, deliberately ignoring the second question. "Would you like something to drink?"
"..."
Catrina, standing to the side, twitched at the corner of her mouth.
Nothing had happened between her and Morin over the past year, but she had watched him flirt with plenty of women.
She knew exactly what he was doing.
"Hm..." Alma was thinking when Morin cut in.
"Mango juice?" he guessed with a smile.
"How did you know?" Alma's eyes sparkled.
Because he read your mind, Catrina thought silently.
Bradley had had enough.
He glanced at Catrina staring at Morin, then at Morin flirting without restraint.
His face darkened.
He's flirting with another girl right in front of my daughter?
"Ahem. Ahem."
Bradley used his signature throat-clearing technique.
"You look like you need a good rest," Morin said, turning his gaze to Bradley.
"I think you should leave," Bradley replied coldly.
"Alright," Morin said helplessly. "I was hoping for a pleasant conversation."
Then he looked at Alma.
"You need a good rest too."
"What-?"
Before Alma could finish, drowsiness overwhelmed her. Her vision went dark, and she collapsed unconscious.
"What did you do?" Dylan rushed in, having just finished the call.
"I'm letting Ms. Alma rest," Morin said calmly. "And ensuring she doesn't hear things she shouldn't."
He picked up an empty glass and shook it.
Wine-red liquid appeared inside.
"Would you like some?" Morin offered.
"...Even if you're with the IRS, you absolutely cannot lay a hand on anyone from the FBI or ICPO," Dylan said sternly, continuing his act.
Morin didn't bother playing along.
"Let's stop wasting time, Mr. Dylan Rhodes," Morin said flatly.
Dylan froze.
"Or should I say-fake member of the Eye of Providence?"
Both Dylan and Bradley changed expressions instantly.
"What are you talking about?" Dylan frowned.
"Your acting is good," Morin said. "But for a mind reader, do you really think acting helps?"
He pointed to his eyes.
"I can see everything."
"Mind reader?" Dylan scoffed. "Like that Merritt guy? His tricks might impress others, but they wouldn't work on me-"
"Is that so?" Morin narrowed his eyes. "Special Tuesday. The man in the dress. And your father..."
"Lionel."
Dylan's pupils shrank.
Beside him, Bradley shot to his feet.
"What?"
"How do you know that?!" Dylan demanded.
"I already told you," Morin said calmly. "I saw it."
"...You're Lionel's son?" Bradley walked closer, studying Dylan. "You don't look very alike."
Dylan: "???"
"Stay away from me!" Dylan snapped, stepping back. "You murderer!"
"Murderer?" Morin echoed.
He already knew.
Today, everything would be exposed.
Morin only cared about getting what he needed from Arthur. Dylan's revenge succeeding or failing meant nothing to him.
Besides-
Dylan's target was wrong.
"Yes. He's the murderer!" Dylan pointed at Bradley. "He ruined my father!"
"He exposed all of my father's magic tricks at once! Left him with no shows, no income!"
"Cornered, my father went to Arthur's insurance company to claim the payout!"
"But Arthur's lawyers helped keep that dirty money, and my father was pushed into desperation!"
"To survive-to raise me-he performed a trick he hadn't mastered!"
"He locked himself in a safe and sank it into a river-"
Dylan's voice broke.
"...I didn't force your father to die," Bradley said after a long silence. "We were partners."
"We were both members of the Eye of Providence."
Dylan froze.
"It was planned," Bradley continued. "I debunked his tricks. He performed new ones. We profited together."
"But... he made a mistake."
Bradley opened a drawer, took out a photograph, and slowly handed it to Dylan.
"I didn't kill him."
"He killed himself."