Jimmy had waited most of the day, certain that these people had no intention of leaving, and decided to go. It wasn't that he didn't want to go in and wipe them all out, but he didn't know who else was inside with Scott and what sort of people they were.

Jimmy had indeed killed many, but apart from the criminals he knew for sure, the rest were mostly drug dealers or the like. He had no interest in hurting ordinary people and absolutely didn't want to harm them.

Not to mention, at the very least, the two men in sunglasses and suits who were always with Scott clearly looked like bodyguards. Although they never spotted Jimmy's car following them, such types usually came from various security companies, hired just to make a living, not deliberately involved in gangster business like the dregs he used to deal with.

In New York, Jimmy had seen too many famous people and wealthy individuals flanked by bodyguards. Eating this bowl of rice came with certain risks, but for someone like Jimmy, who was almost superhuman, there wasn't much difference between them and ordinary people.

To open fire on them or even to kill them would go against Jimmy's principles.

Jimmy thought for a while, then got out of the car and re-entered the factory's surveillance room. Some people inside were already on the sofa, a few were resting in their cars, and only one person was in the small room, which was probably Scott.

Jimmy looked at the people around him and felt a headache coming on. It seemed they had no intention of leaving that night.

Jimmy returned the same way he'd come, started his car, and went back to the hotel to rest. The next morning, after breakfast, Jimmy, dressed in a suit, returned to the office building where Scott was located.

Jimmy once again chatted nonsense with the security guard and the receptionist, someone had discovered the person in the pictures nearby, and Jimmy wanted to go upstairs for a look. No matter what he said, it was useless without evidence or a search warrant; Jimmy was not getting upstairs.

Jimmy left the office building with a scowl, went outside, took one final look at the reception before departing. The receptionist watched Jimmy leave, then finally picked up the phone.

If he was going to flush them out, he had to do it thoroughly. Let them know Jimmy was still around, that Scott's safehouse was still secure. Maybe then, he might relax a bit, and hopefully, some of the bodyguards would leave.

Jimmy wandered around for a while, then took a detour back to the hotel. From his room, he took out the pistol he'd gotten from Davis, got in the car, and headed towards Scott's safehouse.

On the way, he stopped at a second-hand store and picked up some old clothing and bought two pairs of sneakers at a mall. These were all part of his contingency plans. Of course, disposable gloves and zip ties had become items he habitually carried around over the years, he had them in his suitcase, and he'd already stuffed a few in his pockets before heading out.

This time, Jimmy didn't drive directly to the front of the factory that was for sale but parked far away by the road. It was daytime, and though the area was remote, people would occasionally pass by, so he avoided exposing his car as much as possible.

Jimmy didn't change clothes and was still wearing a suit and sunglasses. People of Chinese descent were rare, and his suit made him look more like a professional on legitimate business, perhaps checking out the factory for sale. In casual attire, he would not look like a local and would attract more attention.

Jimmy slowly walked to the factory, all the while observing his surroundings. Heart Eye's advantage was being able to confirm if there were people in the nearby buildings without their noticing.

Choosing a different entrance, Jimmy entered the factory. The number of people inside hadn't decreased which meant either Scott was too cautious, or he hadn't made up his mind yet.

Jimmy sighed softly, turned, and left the factory, returning to his car while also watching to see if any vehicles left the factory gate.

Only in the evening did a car leave the factory, a good sign. Jimmy perked up and continued to watch.

After a few hours, nearing midnight, a second car left, and Jimmy immediately changed clothes in his car, put on gloves, a mask, and sunglasses, started the car, but didn't turn on the lights, driving slowly towards it.

After parking, Jimmy entered the factory. Now only three people were left: one sitting on the sofa, and the other two lying down, one in a room, and another on the sofa. It seemed the group of bodyguards who had arrived later had already left.

Jimmy snuck along the side to another door of the warehouse, avoiding their line of sight as he entered. None of them would have expected someone to come to their safehouse, as shown by their arrangement for others to leave—they certainly wouldn't have expected Jimmy to come at this time.

Jimmy quietly approached the door of the room, turned the handle, pushed the door open, and the door was left ajar. This small room seemed to serve as a makeshift office or a temporary rest area. The space was not small, the main light was off, but there was a small desk lamp that was on, although the light was dim.

Jimmy quietly approached the bed, covered the person's mouth with his hand while pressing the gun to his head.

Jimmy whispered, "Don't move, don't make a sound."

As soon as Jimmy's hand covered his mouth, the person on the bed began to struggle, but upon feeling the gun against his head and hearing Jimmy's words, he stopped.

Looking at the person in front of him, Jimmy's head hurt. This was not Scott at all—Scott was a middle-aged white man, while the person in the bed was clearly Hispanic. He spoke softly, "Who are you? Where is Scott?"

Jimmy added another line, "If you don't want to die, don't shout." Only when the person on the bed nodded vigorously did Jimmy relax his grip just enough to allow the man to speak.

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