As Don conversed with Gary, the car he was in drove into the center of the city, where traffic and activity were most concentrated.
This was the first part of the misdirection.
Ever since the Central Mall attack, Don had felt like someone was after his life—or at the very least, something was brewing.
As unlucky as he was, he felt that getting attacked once and experiencing a near-death experience was enough. But twice? within a week? That couldn't be a coincidence.
The attack by the Hell Riders gang had been the final straw, and Don knew he had to deal with the threat, even if he didn't yet know what it was.
His first priority was figuring out if he was being watched or followed.
The vehicle he was in had numerous cameras hidden on its exterior. Their job was to monitor any surrounding vehicles or individuals that seemed to be following or paying particular attention to the car.
After all, on the surface, it looked like an ordinary self-driving sedan, but the misdirection didn't end there—that would have been far too simple.
After about 30 minutes in traffic, the self-driving car pulled into a carwash, following a plain-looking SUV with tinted windows as well.
There was a silhouette in the back of the SUV, making it appear as though someone was sitting inside. As Don's car drove into the carwash, the mechanisms briefly stopped at the center, and Don quickly got out and slipped into the SUV.
What had appeared to be a person inside the SUV was merely a dummy in clothing. The switch took only a few seconds, and the cars continued as if nothing had happened.
From there, the SUV pulled out of the carwash without issue and headed toward the outskirts of the city to the north. Meanwhile, the sedan—now also containing a dummy in the backseat—continued toward downtown.
Inside the back of the SUV, Don was lounging with his attention on a blank screen. "Were there any signs of someone following us, Gary?" S~eaʀᴄh the nôᴠel Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
The screen flashed on, this time simply showing the words **Call Connected** rather than displaying a video feed.
Gary's voice echoed through the car. "From the footage analyzed so far, it's hard to tell, given how many cars show odd patterns in traffic."
Don nodded. "All right. Just make sure any outliers are taken note of so that we can compare them to any new information later."
Gary hummed thoughtfully before responding. "Yes, that would narrow down the parameters we need to search by quite a good margin. But with how fast technology has advanced since the base supercomputer was built, we may need to look into acquiring an upgrade—or better yet, an engineer."
Don resisted the urge to frown. 'He makes it sound so easy. Just figuring out who's trying to kill me is a lot of work, and now I have to start looking into recruiting experts for my base? This is turning into a full-blown gacha game experience.' Don sighed inwardly. 'Movies always make being a villain look so easy.'
Gary's voice broke into his thoughts. "Sir, are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. I was just thinking about what you said. You're right, but first, let's clear up the matter of any threats so we can grow without distractions."
"Yes, I see your point, sir. To build our power, we need time to grow and establish firm roots in the city without obstacles. Thus, all enemies must be eliminated." Gary's voice showed a hint of excitement at the prospect, as though he was looking forward to it.
Don didn't comment on that and ended the call, letting the rest of the ride continue in silence.
Soon, the northern outskirts of Santos City came into view.
The area was marked by a long, rugged coastline with a large highway built onto the cliffs above. The highway connected roads leading to farms and smaller towns farther out.
A few large commercial farms dominated the area, supplying much of the produce that went into Santos City. As a result, most of the traffic on these roads consisted of trucks and pickup trucks.
It was alongside one of these large trucks that Don found himself now. Soon, both vehicles entered a tunnel, and another truck pulled up behind, blocking the view of Don's SUV from the cars following. This second truck was just wide enough to obscure the SUV from any rear view.
With the timing perfect, Don opened the window of the self-driving car and climbed out, jumping onto the truck next to him and entering it.
Inside, there was only a dummy in the driver's seat; the truck, like the car, was driving itself. However, larger vehicles like trucks, even when driven by AI, were required to have a human presence in case of emergencies.
Once inside, Don quickly took off his shirt and changed into the clothes the dummy had been wearing. Then he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a trucker's hat and a realistic-looking mask of a balding man with puffy cheeks and a very impressive neckbeard.
Don slipped it on without a second thought, taking his position at the steering wheel.
'How does Gary manage to organize all this so quickly?' Don wondered. 'Butlers are really essential to this supervillain thing.'
He couldn't imagine how hard it would've been to pull all of this off by himself, and for that, he was truly grateful to have Gary—though he still wasn't sure how far to extend his trust.
A few seconds later, the truck exited the tunnel and switched lanes, entering a road that led toward a well-known commercial farm. Meanwhile, the SUV continued toward the smaller town of Ashfield.
The road leading to the farm was far less congested, with only the occasional truck or branded vehicle passing by, likely belonging to workers.
After about 15 minutes, Don's truck arrived at Richardson Farms & Co. The truck stopped at the security checkpoint, and Don, feeling a bit anxious, reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a neat stack of papers with an ID card on top.
When it was his turn to drive through the checkpoint, the truck automatically rolled down its window as Don handed over the papers. The guard sighed upon seeing them. "Dammit, Larry, why do you always make a habit of showing up late?"
A display on the truck's dashboard lit up, showing a pre-recorded message. A raspy voice played through the speakers: "Aw, geez, Chuck, you know how it is—"
Before the recording could finish, the guard waved his hand dismissively and handed back the papers. "I don't want to hear it. Just drive in already."
Don simply rolled up the window and drove into the facility, letting out a sigh of relief.
The truck proceeded to the back of the facility, where most of the surrounding area consisted of open fields.
After parking, Don stepped out—now fully disguised as "Larry"—and walked toward a booth marking the entrance to a sizable building labeled *Meat Processing and Packaging.* At the booth, Don used a black obsidian card rather than a standard employee card. The machine flashed green, followed by a heavy thud as the door unlocked.
Upon entering, Don removed the mask and was greeted by two minions who promptly saluted and said in unison, "Suu suu."