The mysterious ID collection.

"What are you doing there?" he asks the boy, apparently named Derek.

Derek, a young adult in his early 20s, sniffs, "We... we are being trafficked."

"To where and for what?" he curiously inquires.

"I... I don't know. We were put in this van, and we don't know where we are going. When the van is about to return, I sneak out and manage to escape."

"Where are the others?" he probes further.

"I told you, I don't know," Derek replies.

Something big is clearly happening. He returns to the secret house but doesn't drive the van along to maintain the ruse.

"Where's the van?" Mr. Rex asks.

He bows down, "I'm hijacked by some gunmen, I'm sorry."

They burst into laughter, each one of them.

"Good job. Good thing they don't kill you. There is nothing in the van. We just use it as a distraction."

"You use me as a distraction?" he points out, his voice shifting.

"Yes, and so?" Mr. Desmond responds.

He faces Mr. Desmond, determination in his eyes. "I'm not working for you again. I'd rather sleep on t
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