Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 872

Helen was momentarily at a loss for words. "Fair enough."

After a brief pause, she pulled out her phone and unlocked it. "Let's exchange contact numbers. I'm intrigued by your business."

"Seriously? Haha, I'm finally getting my first customer!" Seymour exclaimed eagerly, displaying the piece of synthetic skin once more.

"Miss, I highly recommend getting a few more facial disguises. That way, no matter how many times you have an affair, you won't have to worry about getting caught!"

"And who said I was going to cheat?" Helen shot back. She now understood why the neighboring stalls bustled with customers while Seymour's remained deserted. His outspokenness was certainly a liability.

"Anyway, let's exchange contacts first. I'll fill you in on the details of our future collaboration later," Helen interjected, cutting off Seymour's dubious sales pitch.

After exchanging details and transferring a deposit, Helen instructed him to await further updates.

Seeing the money in his account, Seymour happily walked away, holding his synthetic skin.

As Jenson watched Seymour clutching the facial disguise, a chill ran down his spine. He leaned closer to Helen and asked, "What do you need that useless thing for?"

"I have my reasons," Helen replied with a faint smile, continuing on her way.

The black market sprawled extensively; after two hours of exploration, they had barely covered a third of its expanse.

Exhausted from their journey, they took a break at a beverage stall. They decided to get some lemonade while they waited for Chandler.

The stall owner, a native of Thairos who didn't speak Cholonese, served up exceptional lemonade. Helen drank nearly half the cup in one gulp, finding it perfectly balanced and not too sweet.

Helen was wondering whether to grab one for Chandler when a man passing by suddenly collapsed at her feet. As a doctor, she instinctively got up and approached the man, reaching out to check his pulse.

Moments later, her expression turned somber. The man's physical condition could only be described as severely deteriorated.

He was a desperate victim who had fallen prey to organ traffickers, losing both kidneys without receiving any compensation whatsoever.

Unable to witness his suffering any longer, Helen stood up and instructed, "Please help him to his feet. Find a suitable location where I can administer acupuncture."

"Understood." Ambrose nodded solemnly.

Just as he was about to intervene, a commotion erupted nearby. Several people rushed over and pointed at the dying man. "Here he is! I told you he wouldn't last long! Hurry up and take him back while he's still warm!"

With that, a few men quickly prepared to carry the man away.

Ambrose reacted instantly, grabbing one of them by the wrist and demanding sharply, "Who are you?"

"And who are you?" a sleazy-looking man retorted from a distance, his voice tinged with menace. "You must be new here, huh? Didn't anyone warn you not to meddle in the affairs of the black market?"