"Who's out there?" a woman with a booming voice called out.

"Creak..." The door opened.

A Black woman in her forties stood at the door with two children behind her, both of whom seemed quite young.

Luke asked, "Is this Jarvis Loka's home?"

"Yes."

"What do you want with him?"

Luke flashed his badge, "LAPD."

The Black woman looked surprised, "I didn't call the police."

Luke said, "We'd like to talk to Jarvis Loka about a situation."

"What happened to him?"

Luke sized up the Black woman, "What's your relationship to him?"

"I'm his wife." The Black woman stepped aside, "Please come in and take a seat."

Luke and his companion entered the house, asking them to sit on the sofa.

The house was a bit run-down but seemed clean enough. Luke took a look around and saw a photo on the TV stand, featuring a couple and four children.

The man in the photo was indeed Jarvis Loka.

Luke didn't find any items related to vampires in the house, "Is Jarvis at home?"

"No, he's gone to work. What did you want to talk to him about?"

"There was a murder early yesterday morning, and he's likely a witness. We want to get some information from him."

"Murder!" Jarvis's wife showed a look of surprise, "When did this happen?"

"Between one and four o'clock in the morning?"

Jarvis's wife let out a sigh of relief, "Are you sure you aren't mistaken? He was at home asleep; he couldn't have witnessed any murder."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course, we were in the same bed."

"Is it possible he left while you were resting?"

"No, I'm a light sleeper. Any movement from him would have surely woken me up."

Luke changed the subject, "Does Jarvis like vampires?"

Jarvis's wife shook her head, "Maybe twenty years ago, he might have been interested, but he's over forty now. There's no way he'd be into that sort of thing."

"Is he a fan of Angela Char?"

"Who's Angela?"

"What music does he usually like?"

"He's not really interested in music. He occasionally watches movies—he's a pretty boring person." Jarvis's wife shook her head, "The details you're giving me make it sound like you're talking about someone completely different.

Are you certain you're looking for my husband?"

The situation wasn't quite what Luke had expected, "What kind of person is Jarvis in your perception?"

"Just an average guy. Aside from liking to drink, I can't think of any hobbies he has."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Jarvis's wife glanced at the wall clock, "Three hours ago, I saw him off to work."

"Where does he work?"

"He works as a storeroom clerk at Moncado Management Company."

"What's his cell phone number?"

"626 876 3174," Jarvis's wife confidently said, "Trust me, don't waste your time, you've definitely got the wrong man."

...

Noon.

Tariq's pizza shop.

A middle-aged Black man entered the pizza shop, his face showing unease. He walked up to the counter and pursed his thick lips,

"Hey... uh... I'd like some food but I don't have much money..."

The girl with black-framed glasses smiled knowingly, turned around to the kitchen, and came back handing a large pizza box to the Black man.

The middle-aged Black man opened the box to find leftover pizza slices, "Thank you."

The girl smiled, "See you tomorrow."

"Much appreciated," the middle-aged Black man said earnestly as he left with the pizza box.

After exiting, he settled into a gray Volkswagen, placed the pizza on the passenger seat, "Ding-a-ling-a-ling..."

Right then, his phone rang.

"This is Jarvis."

"I'm Detective Chief Luke from the Robbery and Murder Department. I'd like to discuss something with you."

"What's it about?"

"Where are you? We should meet in person to talk."

"I have work this afternoon."

"It won't take long, we'll come to you."

"Let's meet at the east gate of Bern Park; I happen to be having lunch nearby."

"See you in a bit."

...

En Park East Gate.

Half an hour later, Jarvis sat on a park bench eating pizza, looking somewhat uneasy and glancing around from time to time.

Two men walked over, one black and one a dark-haired handsome guy.

The dark-haired handsome guy greeted, "Hi, I'm Detective Chief Luke, we spoke on the phone."

Jarvis hurriedly put the pizza box aside, "I'm Jarvis, is there something you need from me?"

"Yes."

"I'm investigating a murder case and would like to ask you some questions."

Jarvis shook his head, "A murder? I don't understand what you mean?"

"It's just routine questioning, you don't need to be too nervous." Luke offered a word of comfort and asked, "Where were you between 1 AM and 4 AM on June 5th?"

"I was at home sleeping."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"My wife and kids."

Luke noted down that the couple's statements were consistent, "Do you know Angela Char?"

"No."

"Are you sure you didn't attend her new album launch party?"

"I haven't been to a party for a long time; what does this have to do with me?"

Luke scrutinized the man before him, and indeed, he was the person they were looking for, so logically there shouldn't have been a problem with the DNA match.

"Angela was a murder victim, and we found your blood in her body."

"Oh my God..." Jarvis pinched his forehead, "How can I be so unlucky, damn it..."

"Can you explain why your blood was in her body?"

"I can't explain it; I don't know any Angela."

Luke sensed that Jarvis might be hiding something, "Jarvis, look up, avoiding the situation won't solve the problem.

We are here to help you.

Tell us everything you know."

Jarvis sighed softly, "I really haven't done anything, just... went to sell blood."

Voluntary blood donation is common; most countries have it.

But selling blood is illegal in most parts of the world.

America is different; selling blood is allowed here, and this country provides 70% of the global demand for plasma.

America, as a developed capitalist nation, has taken the operation of capital to the extreme.

Prisons can be privatized, banks can be private institutions, and they also allow citizens to legally sell blood.

Various pharmaceutical companies have opened hundreds of blood collection stations.

"Which blood station did you sell at?"

"Albo Biological Company's blood collection station."

"What day did you sell blood?"

"May 30th."

Luke recorded this blood collection company—If Jarvis was telling the truth, he most likely had nothing to do with the case.

But there might be something wrong with the company. America allows the legal sale and collection of blood.

However, there are strict regulations regarding plasma; cases like Angela's clearly do not fall under normal usage.

Tariq, an emotional person, asked, "Don't you have a job? Why sell blood?"

"I... lost my job."

Tariq comforted him, "Buddy, there's no shame in that, it's not your fault, and many people have experienced unemployment.

Plus, isn't there unemployment benefit? It shouldn't have to come to selling blood."

Jarvis looked down at his palms, "It's not my first time being unemployed, I was laid off a while back and received seven weeks of unemployment benefits.

The unemployment office arranged training seminars and helped me contact new jobs.

I'm grateful to them; they are very kind people. With the help of the unemployment office, I found a new job as a warehouse manager at Mercado Management Company.

The job there was all mechanized, something I had never tried before, and a mistake in operation caused a loss to the company.

The company felt I was not capable and dismissed me.

It was my fault; I can't get unemployment benefits again.

I really needed that job and was trying to learn to do it well.

For me and for my family.

If I had been given more time, I was confident I could have done the job well.

But... that's how things are.

The very thing you're afraid of is the very thing that happens."

Tariq pressed, "Your wife doesn't know?"

"No, I don't want her to worry too much. She has a hard time taking care of four kids, it's not easy for her, and I don't want to put more pressure on her.

I'm actively looking for a job, and I'm confident I will find the right one.

Then I'll tell her."

Tariq patted his shoulder, "I believe you will make it.

Here's my card; you can contact me if you need to."

Jarvis took the card and nodded slightly, "Thank you, Detective Marcus."

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