Chapter 3 Chapter 2 The Devil's Female Reporter
Sometimes people won't even give you a chance to breathe.Suzie and I had just walked out of Funland when my phone rang (the theme song from The Twilight Zone. When I find something I like, I hold on to it).A greasy voice whispered in my ear.
"You have an incoming call and an important message. Which would you like to hear first?"
"Listen to the call first." I said without thinking.
"Sorry," said the voice. "I'm afraid I've been paid to insist that you hear the important information first. Have you ever considered the importance of after-death insurance?"
I sighed, pressed the exorcism button on my phone, and listened contentedly to the voice howling in pain, forced to leave my phone.Advertising newsletter... I believe that is a conspiracy from hell to make the world unfit for human habitation.After dismissing the advertising text message, my call finally got through.The call was from Kathy, my teenage secretary, from the office. (I saved her from a cannibalistic house, and she adopted me. I had absolutely no say in the matter. To keep her from bothering me, I gave her the management of the office. Worrying Yes, she runs the office much better than I do.)
"I took a case for you, boss." She said happily.
"I have solved two cases in a row." I said plaintively. "I'm looking forward to some very relaxing time and a hot bath with my yellow duck. The yellow duck is my friend."
"Oh, you'll definitely want to take this case," Kathy said. "The office of the one and only Unnatural Inquirer is calling for your help. They need your services desperately."
"What will that bad newspaper do to me? Have they finally decided to find someone to help them regain their long-lost morals and taste?"
"Strongly suspect, boss. They're reluctant to discuss details on the open line, but they sound like they're in a hurry. Besides, they're offering a very generous offer."
"How rich?" I asked immediately.
"Incredibly rich," Kathy said. "Not only does it mean they're desperate enough to pee their pants, but this thing must be very dangerous. Well, Boss, with this case on, I want to know what's going on in that place. Their coverage is brilliant, I've never Miss any episode."
"The Unnatural Inquirer is a dirty and dirty newspaper." I said firmly. "No truth has ever been reported."
"Who cares about the truth as long as there's the latest gossip and intimate photos of famous people? Oh, please, please, please..."
I look at Suzie. "Do you need me...?"
"Go ahead," she said. "I'm still going to collect the bounty."
She strode away without looking back.She's never been one to say goodbye.
"Okay," I said into the phone. "Talk about the details."
"There's not much to say. They want you to go down to their editor's office and talk."
"Why can't I call them into my office and talk?"
"Because you never come into the office. You must find time to come in recently. I have a lot of documents that need your signature."
"Help me sign." I said. "Just like when you applied for those seven supplementary credit cards in my name."
"I said I'm sorry!"
"Where do they want to meet?"
"They'll send someone to take you there. The Unnatural Inquirer staff don't like being out in public and people throw things at them."
"I understand." I said. "Where should I go to wait for their people?"
Kathy directed me to a street corner in a not-too-trivial part of Nightside.I know it's there: a very busy place with lots of people passing by at all times.There it can easily blend into the crowd without being obtrusive.I said goodbye to Kathy and hung up before she had a chance to talk about the paperwork again.If I want to spend all day soaking in piles of documents, I might as well take a gun to my head and shoot it a few times.
I arrived at the corner of Chaney Road and Wine Street in no time, and loitered as quietly as possible in front of a trepanation dealership, Let the Light In, Ltd.Basically, I've always thought trepanation was like shooting a bullet in the head.Still, it's a bit more valid than the Smart Potion.Humans and other creatures come and go, all minding their own business.Some stand out; a rider in shining armor with a miniature dragon perched on his shoulder barks at other passers-by; a glowing muse with eyes like fireworks; Growling suicidal girl with a rope around her neck.But most of the people are ordinary-looking, so ordinary that people don't want to take a second look.They come to the Nightside in search of forbidden pleasures, secret knowledge, and terrifying satisfaction found nowhere else.Night City has always been a tourist trap. I don't like being in open spaces, it makes me an easy target and makes me feel very unsafe.When I have to perform surveillance operations, I always like to hide in dark and shadowy corners.People have started to recognize me.Most of the people walked around; some elbowed each other and eyed me curiously.Another couple asked if they could take my picture, I gave them a glare and they walked away. Trying to find something to do, I thought about something about the Unnatural Inquirer.I read their newspaper occasionally; all of them do.People will always love gossip, just as people will always love all things bad for the body.There is one high quality newspaper in Nightside; the Nightside Times.The Unnatural Inquirer, unlike the Nightside Times, never confines itself to facts.For them, news is everything. And all the news can be broken into what they want. The Unnatural Inquirer has existed under different guises for well over a hundred years, despite increasingly violent attempts to shut it down.Recently, their editorial department, publishing department, and printing department have all been concentrated in a very secret pocket space, hidden behind layer after layer of strong defense systems.Just trying to find out its location may be cursed by the seven generations of descendants.The newspaper's defense system is being updated all the time, because they have made many very strong enemies.Partly because they tell exaggerated lies about very important people, and partly because they occasionally write facts that no one else dares to say.This newspaper fears nothing and never takes sides with any faction. Only properly certified employees can enter the offices of the newspaper. These people have special space keys, and in order to prevent theft, all keys are directly linked to the soul of the holder.Still, offices are under attack every day.Newspapers published the details of each attack just to ridicule those who attacked it.Under such circumstances, the Unnatural Inquirer is still able to publish every day and report many secrets that powerful people do not want others to know.Now they don't use trucks to carry newspapers, because the trucks are bombed every now and then.The new Unnatural Inquirer just popped up out of nowhere, and once printed it would coalesce next to every newsstand in Nightside.No one would make things difficult for a newsstand owner for fear of being mobbed and beaten to death by the paper's broad readership. When you're done reading the Unnatural Inquirer, just throw it away.It will disappear automatically and return to the printing department for recycling.Not even the Nightside Times could do that.No one has ever used the Unnatural Inquirer for fish and other miscellaneous stuff. On the other hand, most people know, respect, and admire the reporters and staff of the Night Times Times.Employees of the Unnatural Inquirer are often shot on the spot (especially by the paparazzi), but if you survive long enough at their paper, you'll become a celebrity too.The newspaper has a high staff turnover rate, but the waiting list for replacements is unimaginably large.If you can't be someone important, someone special, or something famous, then fall back on being someone who knows everything about them and has the ability to wreak havoc on their parties. "Hello, hello, John Taylor! Nice to see you again, old man! Still busy maintaining your notoriety and mystique?" Frowning secretly, I turned to face the man who had greeted me in such a pleasant tone.I should have known who they were going to send for me.Harry Phoebus, a loot dealer and gambler, is also the most resourceful guy in Nightside—the guy who can get you all the expensive little things that can beautify your life.If you're looking for some good Martian weed, some top-notch drugs intravenously, or tormented childhood memories (Night City is a place dedicated to corrupting the innocent), look no further than Harry Febrews.He's ready to wring your money dry with his kindest smile and sincere courtesies. Or at least he used to be.Apparently, he's had a life-changing event in the back room of some members-only club and is now a man who intends to do more good before it's too late.Nothing stirs the conscience more than an inadvertent glimpse of hell. Harry was well dressed, as usual, with an air of pomp and sophistication.He was wearing a long coat with bulging inner pockets obviously stuffed with all sorts of things you might or might not want to shell out big bucks for.His face was thin and slender, pale, hungry, and his eyes were deep, revealing some kind of indescribable trouble.He smiled at me, a very false smile, and I greeted him with an equally false smile. After all, we are both professionals. "I didn't know you worked for the Unnatural Enquirer, Harry," I said. "Oh, I'm just a special correspondent." He said vaguely. "I'm well-connected and well-sourced, so...they sent me to take you to the office, man. Sorry to keep you waiting, but I have to make sure you're not being followed." "Harry," I said. "Don't forget who you're talking to." "Oh, yes! Yes, exactly! Just routine, really." He took a plain-looking key from the inner pocket of his long coat, looked around briefly, turned to face me to conceal his movement, and inserted the key into an invisible keyhole that apparently floated between us.Harry turned the key, and the key disappeared, and then the whole world seemed to disappear under his feet.I feel like I'm falling for a brief moment, and I'm out of Nightside in a blink of an eye.
We appeared out of nowhere in an anteroom that looked like any other anteroom.The room is richly decorated, expressing the importance of the place, but not so comfortable that you want to hang around here.A icy-looking blond receptionist sits behind the reception counter behind bulletproof glass, taking calls and trimming her nails, serving visitors only when absolutely necessary.Harry took my arm and led me to the waiting area.I glanced at him, and he immediately withdrew his hand.You can't get someone like Harry Phoebus to be familiar with you, or they'll start to get their way very quickly.I strode forward, looking around curiously, and then suddenly there were deafening alarm bells from all directions. "Never mind! Never mind!" Harry jumped up and down, waving vigorously. "He's John Taylor! We're waiting for him!" The alarm bell stopped, and the receptionist climbed up from under the counter, glaring at Harry unkindly.I stare at him. "Security scan," he said immediately. "Completely routine. Nothing to worry about. It was supposed to detect dangerous objects, and dangerous people, and you... triggered all the alarms here. I warned them to lower the defense level when you came... ...shall I help you with your coat?" "Not a good idea," I said. "I haven't fed it in a while." Harry looked at me, having trouble deciding whether to smile or not, but I just stared at him coldly.Harry swallowed, took a step back, and looked at the receptionist. "Contact the security department, what a nice girl, ask them to help John Taylor open a little security clearance." "Open a lot of permissions." I said. "I'm a very complicated person." "I'm not going in," Harry decided. "I'm suddenly quite sure there's work to be done elsewhere." He did another key trick and disappeared without a trace.Harry Febres was such a man, he always liked to come and go. The reception lady stared at me and for some reason I'm sure we couldn't get along.She is a petite blond woman with seductive eyes, sexy lips, and a slightly suppressed violent air exuding from her whole body.I don't know if it's because of working here, or why they hired her, she's the first line of defense in this place, and I have no doubt that she has all kinds of interesting weapons and devices hidden around her... I decided to be polite for now, and gave her an incredibly professional smile. "My name is John Taylor. Your editor-in-chief wants to see me." She snorted disdainfully, with a sympathetic smile on the corner of her mouth, her voice came clearly from the narrow iron window on the bulletproof glass. "The editor-in-chief was never seen. In fact, no one has seen Mr. Dulois for several years, for security reasons. You will be interviewed by the deputy editor-in-chief, Scoop Malloy." "Scoop?" I asked. "Is he one of your top reporters?" "No; he used to work with animals. Sit down, please." I found a seat and sat down, knowing that this woman's style was too different from mine.The red leather sofa is hard and uncomfortable to sit on.There was no one else in the reception room.The coffee table was covered with all kinds of back issues, and I flipped through them, but there was nothing particularly interesting.Magazine cover proudly announces new series feature: "We Field Test Ten New Gods!" Suzie Huett is back on the cover of the Night City special edition of Gunball magazine, and they think she'll add flavor to the magazine . "What's in Night City" is a guide magazine as thick as a phone book. On the cover, it is marked "One hundred and one things you must know about members-only clubs!" and how to get out alive".I really like the magazine What's in Nightside; it's always updated because people and places in Nightside are constantly changing and disappearing.Sometimes the book will be updated as you read it.They removed the catalog page because the catalog kept complaining. I put down the magazine, lean back on the rock-hard sofa, and think about the legendary editor-in-chief, owner, and publisher of the Unnatural Inquirer, Gero Dulois.Everyone was pretty sure it was just his pseudonym, but over the years, every Unnatural Inquirer has published this name in the publisher column, since the photos are still in black and white, the typeface is still very small, and the news is still printed on toilet paper. That's how it was in the ages.Gallo might be a man, or a woman, or a whole committee, or even several.No one can be sure, and it's not because no one tried to investigate the matter.To be sure, the paper's consistently aggressive tone hasn't changed in a century; it's been downright offensive and repulsive from the start. I sat patiently on the sofa, idly considering whether I should take two Molotov cocktails to help redecorate the reception room.During this time several people came and went, reporters and office workers passed by the reception room, everyone was so absorbed in their own business that no one noticed me at all.Even the cannibals of Street of the Gods aren't as repulsive as the paparazzi of the Unnatural Enquirer when the paparazzi teleports in, drops steaming private photos of celebrities, and then disappears again.Suzie would shoot them as soon as she saw them, but so far she had only killed two of them.In order to prevent them from spying on our house, we put traps around the house, and hearing the screams of paparazzi outside in the dead of night is the best sleep aid. Several paparazzi looked at me eagerly, but no one dared to face the camera in my direction.That's the benefit of notoriety. "Are you sure the deputy editor knows I'm waiting?" I asked the receptionist. "I hear it's a matter of urgency." "He knows," she said. "It's also possible that you don't know. Anything is possible!" I walked in front of her, stared at her fiercely and said, "I guess as long as I put in a little effort, I can definitely burn this place into a beautiful sea of flames." "Burn. Look I don't care. The only way to clean this place is to set it on fire. Sometimes they just paint the walls and pretend they're done." I give up. "Give me something to do. Talk to me. Tell me something." "What kind of thing?" "What is the circulation of your newspaper?" She shrugged. "I don't think anyone can be sure. The print run has continued to increase for the past thirty years, and we were already very large thirty years ago. We're not limited to Night City, you know, we'll sell Going to many other worlds and spaces, because everyone is very interested in what happens in Night City. We have letters from readers all over the world, and there is even one from Mars." "Really? What's written on it?" "Nobody knows. It's written in Martian." Deciding not to continue talking to her, I sat back on the couch and admired the framed headlines on the wall showing the paper's long history. "Elvis is really dead! We have proof!" "Honeymoon over; gorilla admits size isn't everything!" "Hitler is burning in hell! It's official!" "Orson Welles is actually a Martian! We have X-rays to prove it!" "Our Greatest Psychic Receives New Songs From Elvis Presley, John Lennon, Mark Poland & Buddy Holly! All on Exclusive CD Released by the Unnatural Inquirer!" Proof, if proof was needed, that not only are idiots born every second in the world, but they all grow up to be readers of the tabloids. Still, if nothing else, the Unnatural Inquirer does have a style that at least grabs my attention.With nothing else to do, I picked up the latest issue of the Unnatural Inquirer from the coffee table.The headline in the newspaper was "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Want to Visit Nightside! Tell Them to Die, Says Walker!" I flipped through it, frowning at the cheap ink on my fingers. Apparently, someone discovered that the Church of the Order of St. Strontium had a radioactive half-life of two million years and kicked them out of the Street of the Gods. "A bunch of cowards," said St. Strontium himself.He would have given a long story, but none of the journalists who were there were willing to stay there too long... There was a picture of Jacqueline Hyde before and after her transformation, poor thing.Jacqueline and Hyde fell in love with each other, but could never see each other because of their own curse.Another report once again emphasized that the moon is made of green cheese, and that the ancient stone slab hidden in the legend is actually a cracker from aliens... One of the inner pages has a title printed in small print at the bottom: Ancient Gods Failed to revive again. Most of the pages of this paper were filled with all sorts of Nightside celebrities I hadn't heard of or cared about, including two full pages of young women stepping out of limousines and taxis to give the paparazzi Teams have the opportunity to have their pictures taken in their panties or without them.For the Unnatural Inquirer, taste is something only restaurant reviews mention. I casually glanced at the personal advertisements and manifestos on the last page; it was a page summarizing the entire human life, with a bunch of other bits and pieces. "Soul exchange banquet; throw the key of your destiny into reincarnation." "Rent out the body." "Changing gender while waiting." "Go to the underwater city of Earli for deep sea diving; those who like to make noise are strictly prohibited to participate ""Various packages of pyramid itineraries, some of which can really see the pyramids." "Monitoring the bedrooms and bathrooms of rich people from a distance; videotapes or DVDs will be sold separately for highlights." "Time sharing package Itineraries, real time travel" (although such travel agencies will get kicked out by Father Time before long, especially if they are not a scam), and, of course, "a million people from thousands of different spaces A drug; buyers at their own risk." Newspapers believe they are obliged to put warning signs; it is clear that some intelligent plant civilization is trying to sell their seeds and body slices in the form of drugs, and then invade our world.It's some kind of Trojan horse invasion... And, of course, there were personal messages in the papers..."Lacey come home, or the kid is going to be in trouble." "Bupsey loves Mpsey; does Mpssi love Bupsey?" (Oh , I can see people shed tears of emotion before going to bed...) "Dagang will definitely return to the earth! We welcome donations from all walks of life." A mad scientist who works together to create a new supernatural creature seeks fellows...with a strong sense of humor." The Unnatural Inquirer's crossword puzzle is the only game in the world that insults you when you think about it too long—and in very difficult words.They had to cut out the columns of the abacus because the sum of the numbers was 666 every time. I toss the newspaper back on the coffee table, wipe my ink-stained fingers on the coat, and realize that's not a good idea when you're wearing a white coat.I took out my handkerchief and wiped my fingers quickly.I had no idea I knew so much about this paper.The gossip tabloid has infiltrated the Nightside, and basically everything you see or think of reminds you of something that appeared in the Unnatural Inquirer.There were even rumors that their editor-in-chief had a prophet who could see into the future and read the Nightside Times the next day in advance, so that the reporters of the Unnatural Inquirer could seize the opportunity.I don't believe this legend.First of all, I know the editor-in-chief of the Night City Times. If there is such a thing, he will definitely not sit idly by. Secondly, the Unnatural Enquirer has never been that interested in news unless they have no important gossip and rumors to publish. to write news. That's not to say that the Unnatural Inquirer can do whatever it wants.Their editor-in-chief once sent reporters into Rat Back Alley, a place where the homeless and the destitute congregate, trying to dig out the inside story of the past celebrities who suffered from misfortune and suffering.Razor Eddie, the god of razors, and guardian of the homeless, hates this kind of conscienceless guy.He divided the reporter into forty-seven packages and sent them back to the editorial office of the agency, and the postage had to be paid by the reporter himself. "The deputy editor-in-chief can see you now," said the receptionist. "He sent a courier to get you in." "Does he think I'm going to get lost?" I asked. She smiled coldly. "We don't like outsiders hanging around. Personally, I think all visitors should wear electronic tracking devices with time codes so they know exactly when they're becoming persona non grata." The door to the inner office opened, revealing a hunched teenager in a dirty top and jeans."Dry 'em all before doctors sort" emblazoned on his jacket.He brushed his long curly hair back, looked me up and down for a moment, grunted, and gestured for me to follow him in.I have an urge to slap him. "Let me guess," I said. "Life sucks and nothing is fair." "I'm nineteen!" he said, staring at me unkindly. "Nineteen and still working as a delivery man! I have a license...they're holding me back. You wait and see; when they finally get the facts and put me in charge, everything will be different here... ..." "What's your name?" I asked. "I'm starting to think my name is 'Hey you!'. Everyone around here calls me that. Like it's killing these old asses to remember my name. My name is Jimmy, if you really If you care, but you probably don't." "What do you want to do when you grow up?" I asked kindly. His eyes suddenly lit up, and veins popped out on his neck. "Of course I want to be a reporter! Then I can dig out the secrets of the rich and powerful and blackmail them." He looked at me slyly. "I can always start with you. If I can dig up a story about the notorious mystery man John Taylor, they might sign me for a column. Come on; tell me something about you and Shot Suzie Dirty secrets. Does she really sleep with a gun? Do you guys swap clothes every once in a while? You better reveal something good, or I'll make up some very dirty and dirty plots. I'll say you said it , then everyone can talk to each other with empty mouths." I stared at him gravely, and he immediately took a step back. "Jimmy," I said. "If I see anything in the paper about me or Suzie in your name, I'll use my talent to find you. Then I'll send Suzie to you, and she'll no doubt want a very Vent her displeasure with violence and violence, and stain the whole place with your blood." He grunted sullenly. "No harm in trying. Come with me, sir." He took me to the inner offices of the Unnatural Inquirer.Cigarettes, incense, sweat, and tension filled the air.People were running around the many journalists who were sitting intently at their desks, pounding away at their keyboards as if they were in life-threatening situations.They kept yelling at each other, but didn't look up most of the time.They ask each other for information, advice, and the latest gossip, like a flock of birds vying for food in a nest.Their tone is always pleasant, but there is obviously a terrible vicious competition under the table.The office was noisy, the air was unbearably foul, and the whole place was steeped in talent and ambition. Just as I imagined. The courier led me listlessly down the central aisle, and I was ignored by everyone.The office gave the impression of a fortified bunker; perhaps because most of the people in Nightside wanted to find them out for many different reasons.The hard-working men and women of the Unnatural Inquirer smoke and drink like they don't have a tomorrow, because they probably don't.Their readers may love them, but everyone else hates them.For the employees here, it's an "us" versus "them" world where everyone and everything is their target.They are always involved in lawsuits, but the editorial and publishing departments can afford the best lawyers, and there is a way to pile up all the cases in the courts indefinitely.The newspaper itself may never win a case, but it never loses one either, partly because they have a lot of money and partly because plaintiffs usually don't live that long.The Unnatural Inquirer has never issued a public apology, never retracted a report, and never paid a dime in compensation.They are proud of it.That's why employees had to work inside the fortifications and had special insurance against attempted assassinations. A slogan hangs on one of the walls. “Sinister, small-minded, mean-spirited are not necessary to work here; but it helps to have them.” Anywhere else, the tagline would be dismissed as a joke. Jimmy the courier finally took me to the deputy editor's office, slammed on the door in a way that announced a barbarian invasion, and pushed the door open before receiving any response.I followed him into the office, closed the door slowly, and saw Mr. Scoop Malloy stand up from behind his desk and greet me.He was a stocky, sad-looking man with a slightly bald forehead, wearing a pullover that said "Please keep smiling when you call me that."He poured out a handful of purple capsules from a small bottle, swallowed them in one gulp, and walked out from behind his desk, shaking my hand as if very sorry.I was always on the alert as I shook hands, partly because I thought about where his nickname had come from, and partly because it looked as though I might tear his hand off at any moment. He glared at the courier. "What are you still doing here? Aren't you supposed to make some important cup of tea?" "Fascist pig!" Jimmy cursed secretly, left the office, and slammed the door hard.Then he opened the door again, shouted: "I'm nineteen years old! Nineteen years old!" and disappeared again. Scoop Malloy sighed deeply, sat back at his desk, and offered me a seat in the visitor's chair.The chair is of course like the visitor chairs everywhere else, hard and awkward to sit on.I take this to imply that visitors are here to suffer. "Adolescence is a terrible time," Scoop said. "Especially to the others. If he wasn't so-and-so's nephew, I'd have fired him a long time ago... Wish I knew whose nephew he was... Welcome to our office, Mr. Taylor. Sorry to make you travel all the way, but you know this kind of thing, and the price of a free press is constant vigilance and access to powerful weaponry." "I heard it's urgent." I said. "And the pay is unbelievably good." "Oh, that's right," Scoop said. "That's right." He looked me up and down. "I hear you'll be helping Julian Advent of the Night Times." "Occasionally," I said. "I agree with Julian's philosophy." Scoop gave an ugly smile. "I can tell you some rumors about him..." "No need." I said firmly. "First of all, I will not believe your rumors; second, if you insult my good friend Julian Advent, I will have to catch you and beat you up, probably until your head falls off Until you come down, I will still kick your head as a football." "Anyway, I never believed those rumors." Scoop said firmly.He leaned forward on his desk, trying to put on a businessman's face. "Mr. Taylor, we at the Unnatural Enquirer don't focus on running news. No, we report stories, entertainment, and relaxation for a while. We hire bipolar patients to write horoscope columns just for the sake of it." Keep our readers on their toes; we offer contests with big prizes like guessing where the next time rift will open; we're always the first to know what the rich and powerful want to do. Even our stories It’s not entirely accurate, but it’s the kind of story readers want to see anyway.” "Don't care if it's true?" I said. Scoop shrugged and smiled ugly again. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how close we got to the truth, even if it was just a mistake." There was a knock on the door.Scoop looked up with a sort of relief on his face, as if glad he didn't have to face me any longer.He invited someone to come in, the door opened, and Scupp and I stood up to greet each other.She is slender, well-built, extremely beautiful, with jet-black hair falling beside a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, bright eyes, and a classic mouth shape like rose petals.She wore a crisp polka-dot dress, which highlighted her perfect figure and magnificent bust. Between her Bettie Page bangs protruded two very cute animal horns. "This is our youngest reporter with the most potential." Scoop said proudly. "John Taylor, let me introduce you to Betty DeVine. Betty, this is John Taylor. Betty will investigate this case with you." I had already stretched out my hand to shake Betty's hand, but I drew back immediately after hearing this.I glared at Scoop. "I don't think so. I choose my own investigation partners, who can keep up with me and take care of themselves. If I have to investigate with a drag bottle, I can't guarantee you results. No disrespect Mean, Betty." "It's okay," she said in a cheerful tone. "But I work for the Unnatural Inquirer, let's see who's not keeping up with who." She sat down on the edge of the deputy editor's desk, crossed her feet, revealing a lot of skin on the inside of her thighs, and then leaned back slightly, her tall twin peaks protruding forward, approaching me.Great strategy, great legs, great boobs. "Hey," she said mischievously. “我的脸在上面。” “果然是在上面。”我道。“你在这里是做什么的，贝蒂？” “我是恶魔女记者，达令。我是说真的恶魔。我爹地是滚石合唱团的团员，当时他们来夜城巡回演出，而我妈咪是个喜好追星的淫欲恶魔。他们之中应该有人懂得要考虑后果的，不过我还是站在这里了，健健康康，天赋异秉。我真的是个顶尖的记者，而这件案子你将会需要我的帮助，达令。所以，你就乖乖躺下、好好享受吧。” “她说的没错。”史顾普语重心长地道。他再度坐回办公桌后，我则将背靠在非常不舒服的访客椅背上。史顾普十指交握，目光定定地看着我。“贝蒂和你同行乃是条件之一。如果我们要花那么大一笔钱雇你办事，我们一定要让这笔钱物超所值。而要补偿开销最好的办法，就是针对你查案的过程撰写一篇独家报导。” “和约翰·泰勒一同查案！”贝蒂道。“详细报导我们一起共度的时光，同游夜城最深沉的黑暗！老实讲，亲爱的，这样我们印报的速度将会跟不上销售的速度。报纸一印好就要直接丢到门外去。从来没有人写过像这样的报导。” “不干。”我道。 她滑下办公桌，凑到我身前，胸口几乎贴在我的脸上。“这件案子会有用得到我的地方，达令。我说真的。我可是一个好帮手唷。” 我站起身来，她微微退缩。“控制一下自己，达令。”我道。“我已经名草有主了。” “啊，没错！”贝蒂说着优雅地轻拍着手，露出一个理解式的神色。“我们很清楚这件事。恶名昭彰的约翰·泰勒和性感疯狂女杀手霰弹苏西！我们已经开了赌盘，猜猜你们谁会先把对方给杀死。请分享一些关于她的秘密，约翰；苏西到底是个什么样的人？关上房门之后的她是否依然性感？在那些特殊的亲密时刻里你们都聊些什么？非自然询问报的读者们渴望想要知道所有下流的细节！” “让他们继续渴望。”我道，声音中流露出一股令她忍不住后退一步的意味。“苏西是个非常重视隐私、也是非常危险的人。” “何不让我解释一下这件案子的细节？”史顾普立刻说道。我再度坐回椅子上，贝蒂则靠着桌沿而立，面对着我，双手在傲人的双峰下方交握。我将注意力集中在史顾普身上。 “有人发现了一段来自死后世界的实况转播，”史顾普切入主题。“并且将之拦截下来。这段转播的画面毫无预警地出现在某人的电视上，而该台电视机的主人，一个名叫潘·杜纳凡的男人，十分机警地录下了这段转播，然后将之烧录成DVD。接着他和我们接触，试图出卖来自死后世界的影像；而我们则花了一大笔钱买下独家播放权。” “拦截下来的转播画面？”我问。“来自天堂，还是地狱？” “谁知道？”史顾普道。“况且又有谁在乎？这可是货真价实的死后世界资讯！我们的读者一定会爱死它的。” “你是说你们根本还没看过这片DVD的内容？”我问。 “完全没有。”史顾普开心地道。 “可能是假货。”我道。“也可能是来自其他世界或是空间的转播。” “无所谓，”史顾普道。“我们拥有播放权。我们想要取得它。但不幸的是，杜纳凡失踪了。他本来已经带着DVD在来这里的路上，准备跟我们换取一张金额庞大的支票，但是他一直没有出现。我们要你帮忙找出DVD，还有杜纳凡。我们一定要找到那段影像！我们已经打了一个礼拜的广告，宣布将在礼拜天的报纸上刊登其中的内容！如果落入其他人手中，并且抢先让内容曝光的话……再说，我们要的不光只是报导而已；你可知道贩卖这片DVD可以赚多少利润吗？” 尽管他讲得慷慨激昂，我依然保持怀疑的态度。“这次该不会又像九○年代有人宣称录到未来影像的那次一样吧？苏西在eBay买了一片，结果里面只是一个身穿未来服装的家伙笑嘻嘻地对着镜头露屁股。” 史顾普向前凑到办公桌上，尽可能地吸引我的注意。“非自然询问报授权给你以任何必要的手段找出死后世界录像，以及它的持有人。将DVD带给我们，能连同持有人一起带回来最好，不能也没差。到时候非自然询问报就会给付一百万英镑的酬劳。看要现金、金块、钻石，还是邮票，随便你选。如果你愿意观看其中的录像，并且针对内容真伪给予专业的意见，我们还会提供额外的五万英镑当作红利。我听说你有资格辨识真伪。” 我点了点头，没有肯定也没有否认。“如果我说它是假货呢？” 史顾普耸肩。“我们还是会公开贩卖。我们很擅长制作一些额外影片来加油添醋。我们可以找帮我们制作'莉莉丝日记'的班底来做。” "Wait!" I said. “我可以肯定我的母亲没有留下任何日记！” “我们知道！”史顾普道。“所以我们才找了三个顶尖的记者执笔操刀，他们现在就在隔壁赶工。这份日记一定会引起抢购热潮的，我告诉你！不会像死后世界录像那么抢手，当然，因为那份DVD就像是印钞票的执照一样……当然我不是说我们有在印钞票。自从出了那次事件之后……你一定要帮我们找回这片DVD！” “而我将会与你同行，详实记录你这次的查案过程！”贝蒂道。 我考虑片刻。一百万英镑可是一笔大钱……“好吧，”我道。“伙伴。” 贝蒂·迪凡雀跃不已，甚至跳了一段快乐之舞，而这段舞令她胸部出现非常有趣的波动。我看回史顾普。 “如果这段死后世界录像是真品，”我道。“我可不确定应该将之公诸于世。能够证实天堂与地狱存在的证据？我不认为人们已经准备好面对这种东西了。” “真正的重点在于头条，”史顾普道。“头条能帮我们卖出很多很多报纸。至于DVD……可以修改，不管是真是假。我们贩卖的是概念。” “但如果是真品，”我道。“如果那是人死之后必须面临的情况的铁证……整个夜城将会陷入疯狂。” “我知道！”贝蒂·迪凡说道。“终于有篇真实的报导了！谁会想到有这种事呢！这样不是很美好吗，达令！”
I arrived at the corner of Chaney Road and Wine Street in no time, and loitered as quietly as possible in front of a trepanation dealership, Let the Light In, Ltd.Basically, I've always thought trepanation was like shooting a bullet in the head.Still, it's a bit more valid than the Smart Potion.Humans and other creatures come and go, all minding their own business.Some stand out; a rider in shining armor with a miniature dragon perched on his shoulder barks at other passers-by; a glowing muse with eyes like fireworks; Growling suicidal girl with a rope around her neck.But most of the people are ordinary-looking, so ordinary that people don't want to take a second look.They come to the Nightside in search of forbidden pleasures, secret knowledge, and terrifying satisfaction found nowhere else.Night City has always been a tourist trap. I don't like being in open spaces, it makes me an easy target and makes me feel very unsafe.When I have to perform surveillance operations, I always like to hide in dark and shadowy corners.People have started to recognize me.Most of the people walked around; some elbowed each other and eyed me curiously.Another couple asked if they could take my picture, I gave them a glare and they walked away. Trying to find something to do, I thought about something about the Unnatural Inquirer.I read their newspaper occasionally; all of them do.People will always love gossip, just as people will always love all things bad for the body.There is one high quality newspaper in Nightside; the Nightside Times.The Unnatural Inquirer, unlike the Nightside Times, never confines itself to facts.For them, news is everything. And all the news can be broken into what they want. The Unnatural Inquirer has existed under different guises for well over a hundred years, despite increasingly violent attempts to shut it down.Recently, their editorial department, publishing department, and printing department have all been concentrated in a very secret pocket space, hidden behind layer after layer of strong defense systems.Just trying to find out its location may be cursed by the seven generations of descendants.The newspaper's defense system is being updated all the time, because they have made many very strong enemies.Partly because they tell exaggerated lies about very important people, and partly because they occasionally write facts that no one else dares to say.This newspaper fears nothing and never takes sides with any faction. Only properly certified employees can enter the offices of the newspaper. These people have special space keys, and in order to prevent theft, all keys are directly linked to the soul of the holder.Still, offices are under attack every day.Newspapers published the details of each attack just to ridicule those who attacked it.Under such circumstances, the Unnatural Inquirer is still able to publish every day and report many secrets that powerful people do not want others to know.Now they don't use trucks to carry newspapers, because the trucks are bombed every now and then.The new Unnatural Inquirer just popped up out of nowhere, and once printed it would coalesce next to every newsstand in Nightside.No one would make things difficult for a newsstand owner for fear of being mobbed and beaten to death by the paper's broad readership. When you're done reading the Unnatural Inquirer, just throw it away.It will disappear automatically and return to the printing department for recycling.Not even the Nightside Times could do that.No one has ever used the Unnatural Inquirer for fish and other miscellaneous stuff. On the other hand, most people know, respect, and admire the reporters and staff of the Night Times Times.Employees of the Unnatural Inquirer are often shot on the spot (especially by the paparazzi), but if you survive long enough at their paper, you'll become a celebrity too.The newspaper has a high staff turnover rate, but the waiting list for replacements is unimaginably large.If you can't be someone important, someone special, or something famous, then fall back on being someone who knows everything about them and has the ability to wreak havoc on their parties. "Hello, hello, John Taylor! Nice to see you again, old man! Still busy maintaining your notoriety and mystique?" Frowning secretly, I turned to face the man who had greeted me in such a pleasant tone.I should have known who they were going to send for me.Harry Phoebus, a loot dealer and gambler, is also the most resourceful guy in Nightside—the guy who can get you all the expensive little things that can beautify your life.If you're looking for some good Martian weed, some top-notch drugs intravenously, or tormented childhood memories (Night City is a place dedicated to corrupting the innocent), look no further than Harry Febrews.He's ready to wring your money dry with his kindest smile and sincere courtesies. Or at least he used to be.Apparently, he's had a life-changing event in the back room of some members-only club and is now a man who intends to do more good before it's too late.Nothing stirs the conscience more than an inadvertent glimpse of hell. Harry was well dressed, as usual, with an air of pomp and sophistication.He was wearing a long coat with bulging inner pockets obviously stuffed with all sorts of things you might or might not want to shell out big bucks for.His face was thin and slender, pale, hungry, and his eyes were deep, revealing some kind of indescribable trouble.He smiled at me, a very false smile, and I greeted him with an equally false smile. After all, we are both professionals. "I didn't know you worked for the Unnatural Enquirer, Harry," I said. "Oh, I'm just a special correspondent." He said vaguely. "I'm well-connected and well-sourced, so...they sent me to take you to the office, man. Sorry to keep you waiting, but I have to make sure you're not being followed." "Harry," I said. "Don't forget who you're talking to." "Oh, yes! Yes, exactly! Just routine, really." He took a plain-looking key from the inner pocket of his long coat, looked around briefly, turned to face me to conceal his movement, and inserted the key into an invisible keyhole that apparently floated between us.Harry turned the key, and the key disappeared, and then the whole world seemed to disappear under his feet.I feel like I'm falling for a brief moment, and I'm out of Nightside in a blink of an eye.
We appeared out of nowhere in an anteroom that looked like any other anteroom.The room is richly decorated, expressing the importance of the place, but not so comfortable that you want to hang around here.A icy-looking blond receptionist sits behind the reception counter behind bulletproof glass, taking calls and trimming her nails, serving visitors only when absolutely necessary.Harry took my arm and led me to the waiting area.I glanced at him, and he immediately withdrew his hand.You can't get someone like Harry Phoebus to be familiar with you, or they'll start to get their way very quickly.I strode forward, looking around curiously, and then suddenly there were deafening alarm bells from all directions. "Never mind! Never mind!" Harry jumped up and down, waving vigorously. "He's John Taylor! We're waiting for him!" The alarm bell stopped, and the receptionist climbed up from under the counter, glaring at Harry unkindly.I stare at him. "Security scan," he said immediately. "Completely routine. Nothing to worry about. It was supposed to detect dangerous objects, and dangerous people, and you... triggered all the alarms here. I warned them to lower the defense level when you came... ...shall I help you with your coat?" "Not a good idea," I said. "I haven't fed it in a while." Harry looked at me, having trouble deciding whether to smile or not, but I just stared at him coldly.Harry swallowed, took a step back, and looked at the receptionist. "Contact the security department, what a nice girl, ask them to help John Taylor open a little security clearance." "Open a lot of permissions." I said. "I'm a very complicated person." "I'm not going in," Harry decided. "I'm suddenly quite sure there's work to be done elsewhere." He did another key trick and disappeared without a trace.Harry Febres was such a man, he always liked to come and go. The reception lady stared at me and for some reason I'm sure we couldn't get along.She is a petite blond woman with seductive eyes, sexy lips, and a slightly suppressed violent air exuding from her whole body.I don't know if it's because of working here, or why they hired her, she's the first line of defense in this place, and I have no doubt that she has all kinds of interesting weapons and devices hidden around her... I decided to be polite for now, and gave her an incredibly professional smile. "My name is John Taylor. Your editor-in-chief wants to see me." She snorted disdainfully, with a sympathetic smile on the corner of her mouth, her voice came clearly from the narrow iron window on the bulletproof glass. "The editor-in-chief was never seen. In fact, no one has seen Mr. Dulois for several years, for security reasons. You will be interviewed by the deputy editor-in-chief, Scoop Malloy." "Scoop?" I asked. "Is he one of your top reporters?" "No; he used to work with animals. Sit down, please." I found a seat and sat down, knowing that this woman's style was too different from mine.The red leather sofa is hard and uncomfortable to sit on.There was no one else in the reception room.The coffee table was covered with all kinds of back issues, and I flipped through them, but there was nothing particularly interesting.Magazine cover proudly announces new series feature: "We Field Test Ten New Gods!" Suzie Huett is back on the cover of the Night City special edition of Gunball magazine, and they think she'll add flavor to the magazine . "What's in Night City" is a guide magazine as thick as a phone book. On the cover, it is marked "One hundred and one things you must know about members-only clubs!" and how to get out alive".I really like the magazine What's in Nightside; it's always updated because people and places in Nightside are constantly changing and disappearing.Sometimes the book will be updated as you read it.They removed the catalog page because the catalog kept complaining. I put down the magazine, lean back on the rock-hard sofa, and think about the legendary editor-in-chief, owner, and publisher of the Unnatural Inquirer, Gero Dulois.Everyone was pretty sure it was just his pseudonym, but over the years, every Unnatural Inquirer has published this name in the publisher column, since the photos are still in black and white, the typeface is still very small, and the news is still printed on toilet paper. That's how it was in the ages.Gallo might be a man, or a woman, or a whole committee, or even several.No one can be sure, and it's not because no one tried to investigate the matter.To be sure, the paper's consistently aggressive tone hasn't changed in a century; it's been downright offensive and repulsive from the start. I sat patiently on the sofa, idly considering whether I should take two Molotov cocktails to help redecorate the reception room.During this time several people came and went, reporters and office workers passed by the reception room, everyone was so absorbed in their own business that no one noticed me at all.Even the cannibals of Street of the Gods aren't as repulsive as the paparazzi of the Unnatural Enquirer when the paparazzi teleports in, drops steaming private photos of celebrities, and then disappears again.Suzie would shoot them as soon as she saw them, but so far she had only killed two of them.In order to prevent them from spying on our house, we put traps around the house, and hearing the screams of paparazzi outside in the dead of night is the best sleep aid. Several paparazzi looked at me eagerly, but no one dared to face the camera in my direction.That's the benefit of notoriety. "Are you sure the deputy editor knows I'm waiting?" I asked the receptionist. "I hear it's a matter of urgency." "He knows," she said. "It's also possible that you don't know. Anything is possible!" I walked in front of her, stared at her fiercely and said, "I guess as long as I put in a little effort, I can definitely burn this place into a beautiful sea of flames." "Burn. Look I don't care. The only way to clean this place is to set it on fire. Sometimes they just paint the walls and pretend they're done." I give up. "Give me something to do. Talk to me. Tell me something." "What kind of thing?" "What is the circulation of your newspaper?" She shrugged. "I don't think anyone can be sure. The print run has continued to increase for the past thirty years, and we were already very large thirty years ago. We're not limited to Night City, you know, we'll sell Going to many other worlds and spaces, because everyone is very interested in what happens in Night City. We have letters from readers all over the world, and there is even one from Mars." "Really? What's written on it?" "Nobody knows. It's written in Martian." Deciding not to continue talking to her, I sat back on the couch and admired the framed headlines on the wall showing the paper's long history. "Elvis is really dead! We have proof!" "Honeymoon over; gorilla admits size isn't everything!" "Hitler is burning in hell! It's official!" "Orson Welles is actually a Martian! We have X-rays to prove it!" "Our Greatest Psychic Receives New Songs From Elvis Presley, John Lennon, Mark Poland & Buddy Holly! All on Exclusive CD Released by the Unnatural Inquirer!" Proof, if proof was needed, that not only are idiots born every second in the world, but they all grow up to be readers of the tabloids. Still, if nothing else, the Unnatural Inquirer does have a style that at least grabs my attention.With nothing else to do, I picked up the latest issue of the Unnatural Inquirer from the coffee table.The headline in the newspaper was "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Want to Visit Nightside! Tell Them to Die, Says Walker!" I flipped through it, frowning at the cheap ink on my fingers. Apparently, someone discovered that the Church of the Order of St. Strontium had a radioactive half-life of two million years and kicked them out of the Street of the Gods. "A bunch of cowards," said St. Strontium himself.He would have given a long story, but none of the journalists who were there were willing to stay there too long... There was a picture of Jacqueline Hyde before and after her transformation, poor thing.Jacqueline and Hyde fell in love with each other, but could never see each other because of their own curse.Another report once again emphasized that the moon is made of green cheese, and that the ancient stone slab hidden in the legend is actually a cracker from aliens... One of the inner pages has a title printed in small print at the bottom: Ancient Gods Failed to revive again. Most of the pages of this paper were filled with all sorts of Nightside celebrities I hadn't heard of or cared about, including two full pages of young women stepping out of limousines and taxis to give the paparazzi Teams have the opportunity to have their pictures taken in their panties or without them.For the Unnatural Inquirer, taste is something only restaurant reviews mention. I casually glanced at the personal advertisements and manifestos on the last page; it was a page summarizing the entire human life, with a bunch of other bits and pieces. "Soul exchange banquet; throw the key of your destiny into reincarnation." "Rent out the body." "Changing gender while waiting." "Go to the underwater city of Earli for deep sea diving; those who like to make noise are strictly prohibited to participate ""Various packages of pyramid itineraries, some of which can really see the pyramids." "Monitoring the bedrooms and bathrooms of rich people from a distance; videotapes or DVDs will be sold separately for highlights." "Time sharing package Itineraries, real time travel" (although such travel agencies will get kicked out by Father Time before long, especially if they are not a scam), and, of course, "a million people from thousands of different spaces A drug; buyers at their own risk." Newspapers believe they are obliged to put warning signs; it is clear that some intelligent plant civilization is trying to sell their seeds and body slices in the form of drugs, and then invade our world.It's some kind of Trojan horse invasion... And, of course, there were personal messages in the papers..."Lacey come home, or the kid is going to be in trouble." "Bupsey loves Mpsey; does Mpssi love Bupsey?" (Oh , I can see people shed tears of emotion before going to bed...) "Dagang will definitely return to the earth! We welcome donations from all walks of life." A mad scientist who works together to create a new supernatural creature seeks fellows...with a strong sense of humor." The Unnatural Inquirer's crossword puzzle is the only game in the world that insults you when you think about it too long—and in very difficult words.They had to cut out the columns of the abacus because the sum of the numbers was 666 every time. I toss the newspaper back on the coffee table, wipe my ink-stained fingers on the coat, and realize that's not a good idea when you're wearing a white coat.I took out my handkerchief and wiped my fingers quickly.I had no idea I knew so much about this paper.The gossip tabloid has infiltrated the Nightside, and basically everything you see or think of reminds you of something that appeared in the Unnatural Inquirer.There were even rumors that their editor-in-chief had a prophet who could see into the future and read the Nightside Times the next day in advance, so that the reporters of the Unnatural Inquirer could seize the opportunity.I don't believe this legend.First of all, I know the editor-in-chief of the Night City Times. If there is such a thing, he will definitely not sit idly by. Secondly, the Unnatural Enquirer has never been that interested in news unless they have no important gossip and rumors to publish. to write news. That's not to say that the Unnatural Inquirer can do whatever it wants.Their editor-in-chief once sent reporters into Rat Back Alley, a place where the homeless and the destitute congregate, trying to dig out the inside story of the past celebrities who suffered from misfortune and suffering.Razor Eddie, the god of razors, and guardian of the homeless, hates this kind of conscienceless guy.He divided the reporter into forty-seven packages and sent them back to the editorial office of the agency, and the postage had to be paid by the reporter himself. "The deputy editor-in-chief can see you now," said the receptionist. "He sent a courier to get you in." "Does he think I'm going to get lost?" I asked. She smiled coldly. "We don't like outsiders hanging around. Personally, I think all visitors should wear electronic tracking devices with time codes so they know exactly when they're becoming persona non grata." The door to the inner office opened, revealing a hunched teenager in a dirty top and jeans."Dry 'em all before doctors sort" emblazoned on his jacket.He brushed his long curly hair back, looked me up and down for a moment, grunted, and gestured for me to follow him in.I have an urge to slap him. "Let me guess," I said. "Life sucks and nothing is fair." "I'm nineteen!" he said, staring at me unkindly. "Nineteen and still working as a delivery man! I have a license...they're holding me back. You wait and see; when they finally get the facts and put me in charge, everything will be different here... ..." "What's your name?" I asked. "I'm starting to think my name is 'Hey you!'. Everyone around here calls me that. Like it's killing these old asses to remember my name. My name is Jimmy, if you really If you care, but you probably don't." "What do you want to do when you grow up?" I asked kindly. His eyes suddenly lit up, and veins popped out on his neck. "Of course I want to be a reporter! Then I can dig out the secrets of the rich and powerful and blackmail them." He looked at me slyly. "I can always start with you. If I can dig up a story about the notorious mystery man John Taylor, they might sign me for a column. Come on; tell me something about you and Shot Suzie Dirty secrets. Does she really sleep with a gun? Do you guys swap clothes every once in a while? You better reveal something good, or I'll make up some very dirty and dirty plots. I'll say you said it , then everyone can talk to each other with empty mouths." I stared at him gravely, and he immediately took a step back. "Jimmy," I said. "If I see anything in the paper about me or Suzie in your name, I'll use my talent to find you. Then I'll send Suzie to you, and she'll no doubt want a very Vent her displeasure with violence and violence, and stain the whole place with your blood." He grunted sullenly. "No harm in trying. Come with me, sir." He took me to the inner offices of the Unnatural Inquirer.Cigarettes, incense, sweat, and tension filled the air.People were running around the many journalists who were sitting intently at their desks, pounding away at their keyboards as if they were in life-threatening situations.They kept yelling at each other, but didn't look up most of the time.They ask each other for information, advice, and the latest gossip, like a flock of birds vying for food in a nest.Their tone is always pleasant, but there is obviously a terrible vicious competition under the table.The office was noisy, the air was unbearably foul, and the whole place was steeped in talent and ambition. Just as I imagined. The courier led me listlessly down the central aisle, and I was ignored by everyone.The office gave the impression of a fortified bunker; perhaps because most of the people in Nightside wanted to find them out for many different reasons.The hard-working men and women of the Unnatural Inquirer smoke and drink like they don't have a tomorrow, because they probably don't.Their readers may love them, but everyone else hates them.For the employees here, it's an "us" versus "them" world where everyone and everything is their target.They are always involved in lawsuits, but the editorial and publishing departments can afford the best lawyers, and there is a way to pile up all the cases in the courts indefinitely.The newspaper itself may never win a case, but it never loses one either, partly because they have a lot of money and partly because plaintiffs usually don't live that long.The Unnatural Inquirer has never issued a public apology, never retracted a report, and never paid a dime in compensation.They are proud of it.That's why employees had to work inside the fortifications and had special insurance against attempted assassinations. A slogan hangs on one of the walls. “Sinister, small-minded, mean-spirited are not necessary to work here; but it helps to have them.” Anywhere else, the tagline would be dismissed as a joke. Jimmy the courier finally took me to the deputy editor's office, slammed on the door in a way that announced a barbarian invasion, and pushed the door open before receiving any response.I followed him into the office, closed the door slowly, and saw Mr. Scoop Malloy stand up from behind his desk and greet me.He was a stocky, sad-looking man with a slightly bald forehead, wearing a pullover that said "Please keep smiling when you call me that."He poured out a handful of purple capsules from a small bottle, swallowed them in one gulp, and walked out from behind his desk, shaking my hand as if very sorry.I was always on the alert as I shook hands, partly because I thought about where his nickname had come from, and partly because it looked as though I might tear his hand off at any moment. He glared at the courier. "What are you still doing here? Aren't you supposed to make some important cup of tea?" "Fascist pig!" Jimmy cursed secretly, left the office, and slammed the door hard.Then he opened the door again, shouted: "I'm nineteen years old! Nineteen years old!" and disappeared again. Scoop Malloy sighed deeply, sat back at his desk, and offered me a seat in the visitor's chair.The chair is of course like the visitor chairs everywhere else, hard and awkward to sit on.I take this to imply that visitors are here to suffer. "Adolescence is a terrible time," Scoop said. "Especially to the others. If he wasn't so-and-so's nephew, I'd have fired him a long time ago... Wish I knew whose nephew he was... Welcome to our office, Mr. Taylor. Sorry to make you travel all the way, but you know this kind of thing, and the price of a free press is constant vigilance and access to powerful weaponry." "I heard it's urgent." I said. "And the pay is unbelievably good." "Oh, that's right," Scoop said. "That's right." He looked me up and down. "I hear you'll be helping Julian Advent of the Night Times." "Occasionally," I said. "I agree with Julian's philosophy." Scoop gave an ugly smile. "I can tell you some rumors about him..." "No need." I said firmly. "First of all, I will not believe your rumors; second, if you insult my good friend Julian Advent, I will have to catch you and beat you up, probably until your head falls off Until you come down, I will still kick your head as a football." "Anyway, I never believed those rumors." Scoop said firmly.He leaned forward on his desk, trying to put on a businessman's face. "Mr. Taylor, we at the Unnatural Enquirer don't focus on running news. No, we report stories, entertainment, and relaxation for a while. We hire bipolar patients to write horoscope columns just for the sake of it." Keep our readers on their toes; we offer contests with big prizes like guessing where the next time rift will open; we're always the first to know what the rich and powerful want to do. Even our stories It’s not entirely accurate, but it’s the kind of story readers want to see anyway.” "Don't care if it's true?" I said. Scoop shrugged and smiled ugly again. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how close we got to the truth, even if it was just a mistake." There was a knock on the door.Scoop looked up with a sort of relief on his face, as if glad he didn't have to face me any longer.He invited someone to come in, the door opened, and Scupp and I stood up to greet each other.She is slender, well-built, extremely beautiful, with jet-black hair falling beside a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, bright eyes, and a classic mouth shape like rose petals.She wore a crisp polka-dot dress, which highlighted her perfect figure and magnificent bust. Between her Bettie Page bangs protruded two very cute animal horns. "This is our youngest reporter with the most potential." Scoop said proudly. "John Taylor, let me introduce you to Betty DeVine. Betty, this is John Taylor. Betty will investigate this case with you." I had already stretched out my hand to shake Betty's hand, but I drew back immediately after hearing this.I glared at Scoop. "I don't think so. I choose my own investigation partners, who can keep up with me and take care of themselves. If I have to investigate with a drag bottle, I can't guarantee you results. No disrespect Mean, Betty." "It's okay," she said in a cheerful tone. "But I work for the Unnatural Inquirer, let's see who's not keeping up with who." She sat down on the edge of the deputy editor's desk, crossed her feet, revealing a lot of skin on the inside of her thighs, and then leaned back slightly, her tall twin peaks protruding forward, approaching me.Great strategy, great legs, great boobs. "Hey," she said mischievously. “我的脸在上面。” “果然是在上面。”我道。“你在这里是做什么的，贝蒂？” “我是恶魔女记者，达令。我是说真的恶魔。我爹地是滚石合唱团的团员，当时他们来夜城巡回演出，而我妈咪是个喜好追星的淫欲恶魔。他们之中应该有人懂得要考虑后果的，不过我还是站在这里了，健健康康，天赋异秉。我真的是个顶尖的记者，而这件案子你将会需要我的帮助，达令。所以，你就乖乖躺下、好好享受吧。” “她说的没错。”史顾普语重心长地道。他再度坐回办公桌后，我则将背靠在非常不舒服的访客椅背上。史顾普十指交握，目光定定地看着我。“贝蒂和你同行乃是条件之一。如果我们要花那么大一笔钱雇你办事，我们一定要让这笔钱物超所值。而要补偿开销最好的办法，就是针对你查案的过程撰写一篇独家报导。” “和约翰·泰勒一同查案！”贝蒂道。“详细报导我们一起共度的时光，同游夜城最深沉的黑暗！老实讲，亲爱的，这样我们印报的速度将会跟不上销售的速度。报纸一印好就要直接丢到门外去。从来没有人写过像这样的报导。” “不干。”我道。 她滑下办公桌，凑到我身前，胸口几乎贴在我的脸上。“这件案子会有用得到我的地方，达令。我说真的。我可是一个好帮手唷。” 我站起身来，她微微退缩。“控制一下自己，达令。”我道。“我已经名草有主了。” “啊，没错！”贝蒂说着优雅地轻拍着手，露出一个理解式的神色。“我们很清楚这件事。恶名昭彰的约翰·泰勒和性感疯狂女杀手霰弹苏西！我们已经开了赌盘，猜猜你们谁会先把对方给杀死。请分享一些关于她的秘密，约翰；苏西到底是个什么样的人？关上房门之后的她是否依然性感？在那些特殊的亲密时刻里你们都聊些什么？非自然询问报的读者们渴望想要知道所有下流的细节！” “让他们继续渴望。”我道，声音中流露出一股令她忍不住后退一步的意味。“苏西是个非常重视隐私、也是非常危险的人。” “何不让我解释一下这件案子的细节？”史顾普立刻说道。我再度坐回椅子上，贝蒂则靠着桌沿而立，面对着我，双手在傲人的双峰下方交握。我将注意力集中在史顾普身上。 “有人发现了一段来自死后世界的实况转播，”史顾普切入主题。“并且将之拦截下来。这段转播的画面毫无预警地出现在某人的电视上，而该台电视机的主人，一个名叫潘·杜纳凡的男人，十分机警地录下了这段转播，然后将之烧录成DVD。接着他和我们接触，试图出卖来自死后世界的影像；而我们则花了一大笔钱买下独家播放权。” “拦截下来的转播画面？”我问。“来自天堂，还是地狱？” “谁知道？”史顾普道。“况且又有谁在乎？这可是货真价实的死后世界资讯！我们的读者一定会爱死它的。” “你是说你们根本还没看过这片DVD的内容？”我问。 “完全没有。”史顾普开心地道。 “可能是假货。”我道。“也可能是来自其他世界或是空间的转播。” “无所谓，”史顾普道。“我们拥有播放权。我们想要取得它。但不幸的是，杜纳凡失踪了。他本来已经带着DVD在来这里的路上，准备跟我们换取一张金额庞大的支票，但是他一直没有出现。我们要你帮忙找出DVD，还有杜纳凡。我们一定要找到那段影像！我们已经打了一个礼拜的广告，宣布将在礼拜天的报纸上刊登其中的内容！如果落入其他人手中，并且抢先让内容曝光的话……再说，我们要的不光只是报导而已；你可知道贩卖这片DVD可以赚多少利润吗？” 尽管他讲得慷慨激昂，我依然保持怀疑的态度。“这次该不会又像九○年代有人宣称录到未来影像的那次一样吧？苏西在eBay买了一片，结果里面只是一个身穿未来服装的家伙笑嘻嘻地对着镜头露屁股。” 史顾普向前凑到办公桌上，尽可能地吸引我的注意。“非自然询问报授权给你以任何必要的手段找出死后世界录像，以及它的持有人。将DVD带给我们，能连同持有人一起带回来最好，不能也没差。到时候非自然询问报就会给付一百万英镑的酬劳。看要现金、金块、钻石，还是邮票，随便你选。如果你愿意观看其中的录像，并且针对内容真伪给予专业的意见，我们还会提供额外的五万英镑当作红利。我听说你有资格辨识真伪。” 我点了点头，没有肯定也没有否认。“如果我说它是假货呢？” 史顾普耸肩。“我们还是会公开贩卖。我们很擅长制作一些额外影片来加油添醋。我们可以找帮我们制作'莉莉丝日记'的班底来做。” "Wait!" I said. “我可以肯定我的母亲没有留下任何日记！” “我们知道！”史顾普道。“所以我们才找了三个顶尖的记者执笔操刀，他们现在就在隔壁赶工。这份日记一定会引起抢购热潮的，我告诉你！不会像死后世界录像那么抢手，当然，因为那份DVD就像是印钞票的执照一样……当然我不是说我们有在印钞票。自从出了那次事件之后……你一定要帮我们找回这片DVD！” “而我将会与你同行，详实记录你这次的查案过程！”贝蒂道。 我考虑片刻。一百万英镑可是一笔大钱……“好吧，”我道。“伙伴。” 贝蒂·迪凡雀跃不已，甚至跳了一段快乐之舞，而这段舞令她胸部出现非常有趣的波动。我看回史顾普。 “如果这段死后世界录像是真品，”我道。“我可不确定应该将之公诸于世。能够证实天堂与地狱存在的证据？我不认为人们已经准备好面对这种东西了。” “真正的重点在于头条，”史顾普道。“头条能帮我们卖出很多很多报纸。至于DVD……可以修改，不管是真是假。我们贩卖的是概念。” “但如果是真品，”我道。“如果那是人死之后必须面临的情况的铁证……整个夜城将会陷入疯狂。” “我知道！”贝蒂·迪凡说道。“终于有篇真实的报导了！谁会想到有这种事呢！这样不是很美好吗，达令！”