I returned to the monastery at the top of the hill and stayed here for almost an afternoon. I pretended to be a photographer and walked around the inside and outside of the monastery, occasionally pinching a few pictures of one place. Actually, I don't know what I'm shooting, but I'm just going to go to No. 120 every once in a while to observe. But until the closing, the monastery did not notice any movement there.

After the closings of the monastery I had to put away my things and go down the hill, and wander around the place near the foot of the hill, until the sun went down and I came again to the bushes by the chapel. Here I dug out what I had hidden, changed into that stinking outfit again, put on my wig, and loaded my pistol. After packing up and confirming that everything was correct, I walked all the way back to the junction of Marcus Street along the Salzach River.

There were quite a few people around the intersection this time, but I didn't see the two guys who were staring at me before. The windows and balcony of No. 120 were still the same, except that on the bench I occupied last night sat people, who looked like a pair of lovers, and a man and a woman were sitting there laughing and whispering.

I walked slowly towards the intersection, and just as I approached the bench, a figure flashed from a street lamp at the intersection, and it approached me. I glanced at the man, and it looked familiar, as if I had seen it last night when I was walking down Marcus Street dressed as a homeless man.

The man walked up to me, and instinctively reached for the pistol I was carrying. But then I thought about the question, that is, if the other person found something, he shouldn't have come up to me in such a posture. I immediately tried to relax myself and keep walking. I saw that the guy had gone off course as if he had deliberately bypassed me, and then looked at the man and woman sitting on the bench.

I didn't dare to look at it, but continued to walk out after carefully noting what the man looked like. I think this guy should be able to be sure that like those two guys, they're all here and there, looking for suspicious targets. So I'm going to have to make a note of him, to prevent this man from being left behind after old Murphy and the others left.

I turned into Marcus Street again, and just as I turned into the street I suddenly realized that something was wrong with the atmosphere today. Because there were several figures standing on the side of Street 120 and on both sides of the gate. These figures were obviously not passers-by, and although they did not stand like sentinels, the wary eyes that looked at the sides of the road from time to time spoke for themselves.

What is going to happen? I didn't stop, and though some of them looked at me, I kept walking down Marcus Street, and past a guy standing on the side of the street. Maybe it's not too late at the moment, and there are quite a lot of people on the road, so this man looked at me and quickly looked at other passers-by in other directions.

I continued on, quickly passing the sidewalk across the road from Gate 120. A short time after I had walked over, there was a sudden sound of talking from number 120, and at the same time two cars came from the road I was heading on. The two cars were not fast and drove all the way to the door of No. 120 and stopped.

I slowly came to a large garbage can on the side of the road, and as I reached into the garbage can and pretended to check the garbage, I looked sideways at Gate 120.

At this moment, the door of 120 finally opened, and an old man in a black coat with a somewhat rickety figure stood under the headlamp of Gate 120, his face facing the door and talking, and next to this old man stood two people who were supposed to be bodyguards. After a few words, the old man stretched out his arm and hugged one of the men in the door, and then quickly got into one of the two cars escorted by the two men beside him. The sentry men who had been standing on both sides of the road got into another car after the old man got into the car.

The old man who left was naturally the old guy named Murphy, who had seen him clearly through surveillance when he was in Switzerland before, especially his rickety figure.

Did this old guy really leave? I didn't immediately continue along the road, but stayed where I was and continued to look at 120. I guess that's my goal when I hugged Murphy and said goodbye just now, and I didn't see anyone, but I think it wouldn't be wrong. It's just that I can't confirm it for a while, the door of No. 120 was closed again after the two cars started, and the windows of one of the mouths and the balcony on the second floor were still opaque.

Just as I was thinking this, I noticed a familiar figure suddenly walking through the door of 120. It was one of the two guys who had been with me before. It seems that D is right, old Murphy did keep a hand, and now it seems that there are probably three people left.

I walked away from the trash can and continued to walk. After walking out of Marcus Street, I found a corner where no one was around, and sent D a message confirming that Murphy Sr. was gone. D did not reply, and after a circle, I returned to the Salzakh River. But this time I'm not going to stare at number 120, but I want to see the three people I expected to be left behind. Because these three people have become the biggest obstacle for me to do it at the moment. So I had to figure out what kind of activities they were in order to determine their whereabouts, so that I could come up with a plan of action later.

By the time I got back to the river, the man and woman who had been sitting on the benches had left, and there were noticeably fewer people on the road. So I reoccupied the bench and fell straight on it and started pretending to sleep. After a while, one of the two reappeared at the junction, and, after a moment at the junction as before, came to the river, took out a cigarette, and smoked it.

It seems that this guy is quite regular, and what he does is almost the same as yesterday. I continued to lie still and continue to observe, and a moment later the man's companion reappeared, just as he had been yesterday. The two stood side by side, smoking cigarettes and chatting together. However, this time the conversation was a bit long, and it was almost an hour before they left the place again.

I didn't go back to sleep. Instead, after the two guys left, I sent a message to D to say that they were safe, and then I put away my phone and stood up, walking in the direction that the two guys walked out. The two of them walked unhurriedly, talking as they went, and after a while they came to the street of the hotel where D and I had stayed before. I deliberately slowed down and distanced myself between the two of them, only one of them entered the hotel after they reached the door of the hotel, while the other guy continued to walk out along the road.

I immediately turned back, and quickly returned to my bench along the banks of the Salzakh River and fell asleep again. Nearly half an hour later, the man who had not returned to the hotel reappeared at the intersection.

Fat! Fat! Fat!

(End of chapter)