Chapter 382 - The Immigration Office (1/2)

Sasquatch looked up at the big immigration office in front of him. The immigration office was owned by the government so technically, Interpol could have contacted them directly for information about their employees, but clearly, it was hard to know who to trust these days, so Halia had asked Sasquatch to do some investigating on his own first.

Sasquatch walked into the busy office that was located in central Beijing and looked around. A young woman approached him and asked nervously, ”Can I help you?”

Sasquatch was tall, burly, and he had a stern look on his face, so the woman felt a little intimidated. It wasn't the first time that Sasquatch received this kind of reaction. ”I lost my passport, so I was wondering if I could speak to someone about it,” he said calmly.

The young woman nodded her head and quickly led Sasquatch over to some counters. ”You can speak to one of the people in this department. This is your number. They will call you when it is your turn,” she said as she handed him a little slip with the number 108 on it.

Sasquatch thanked the woman and went to sit down.

He glanced up at the number screen to check how far in the queue he was: they were only up to 82! How long would he have to sit there? Government agencies were always slow, no matter where in the world one was.

He sat in the front row of the waiting area and scanned his eyes across the counters. There were 5 counters in total: 2 were being served by men and 3 were being served by women.

He wasn't actually there to get a new passport so he had no reason to just sit around and wait. He stood up, walked up to one of the women, and asked, ”Excuse me, where is the bathroom?”

As he asked this, he glanced down at the woman's hands. The woman had long manicured nails like a witch, but no cuts on her hands. While the woman pointed to the left and said, ”It's just down that corridor,” he quickly took a look at the other women behind the counters.

One woman was writing something on a piece of paper with her smooth and delicate hands. Clearly, she was not the person he was looking for. The other woman was old and wrinkly with age spots, but she had no signs of cuts either. All three of these women had no cuts. In fact, it almost seemed like they had never even stepped foot into a kitchen or held a knife.

It was certainly comfortable to work for the government.

Furrowing his brows, he stepped away and began to walk down the corridor to the bathroom. Perhaps, he had been too simple-minded to think that a passport forger would be working in the passport department of the immigration office. Maybe, she worked in a different department.

He peeked into a few of the offices as he walked down the corridor. Some offices were occupied and they seemed to be discussing serious matters like visas and migration, others were either empty or the person inside was focused on their computer.