North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws

"The second time!"

"This is the second time such an incident has occurred in Los Angeles!"

"In just two short months, we have lost an Elder and a specially appointed director!"

"We must retaliate!"

Before a table, a multi-user network communication was in progress. Mechanical sounds mingled and converged in the cramped secret room.

A pair of deep brown eyes stared at the handsome face on the computer screen, hesitated, but eventually, the man shook his head and pressed the button on the table, his voice cutting through, "Shut up!"

"All operations in Los Angeles are to cease immediately! I will handle this matter!"

He seemed to possess a very special status among them. Despite their reluctance, the avatars representing the communicators dimmed, a clear sign of their deference. This signified their agreement with the man's proposal.

"Sigh..." A deep sigh echoed in the secret room.

The man clicked his mouse, scrolling past the photo of the handsome man before finally settling on a ghastly white mask. He contemplated it for a long time, then sent out an order through an encrypted channel:

[Target Number One: Codename Gentleman. Height between 180-195 cm, strong and powerful build, average marksmanship, reserved personality. Suspected to be former military with connections to Brownhagen. Possibly related to the exposure at the nursing home. Verify possible candidates ASAP!]

After sending the commands, the man clicked back to the previous photo. For what felt like the hundredth time, he meticulously reviewed the information about the person in the photo, finally stopping on their hotel check-in record.

With the help of the organization's vast network of peripheral personnel, he had easily obtained detailed information about the incident at the Los Angeles nursing home.

The person in the photo not only matched the physical appearance of the masked intruder at Brownhagen Manor but had also killed the former Thirteenth Elder, Butcher.

Although that was partly due to Butcher's own arrogance, as he had actively participated in the game, it could not be denied: the young man in the photo, named Dean, had slapped the face of their organization.

If it were not for...

Thinking of some unpleasant matters, the man snorted coldly but, in the end, picked up the satellite phone on the table.

"Master?"

"Go to the Goat Hotel. Check whether the guest in Room 201 is currently in their room!"

"I'll call you back in half an hour!"

The man estimated the distance between Brownhagen Manor and the small hotel and agreed.

The call ended. The man, shrouded in shadow, lit a cigarette. As the red ember flickered, his mind raced, contemplating the unknown...

...

「BOOM~」

On the deserted highway, an old pickup truck roared, its engine pushed to the brink.

Fueled by adrenaline, Dean couldn't help but let out a wild howl. Any slight worries he'd had vanished under the thrill of speed and exhilaration.

With his heightened nervous response, even pushing the used truck to its speed limit, Dean could easily maintain control. So, although his driving skill was only a normal L2, with his innate physical talents, even some experienced drivers probably wouldn't dare to drive as wildly as he was now.

He completed the usual minimum forty-minute drive in just over twenty minutes.

Returning to the city, Dean slowed down the truck.

This truck is definitely a no-go. Disposing of it is simple. There's a strip club right next door. Some kind-hearted soul will take it off my hands. But just to be safe...

Dean picked up a sharp tool from the truck and, after puncturing all four tires one by one, swung the truck door wide open and headed towards his rented apartment.

The truck can be given away, but the tires must be replaced!

He quickly changed clothes. Dean grabbed the recorder next to him and quickly started rewinding. Beside the recorder, to his surprise, was a cellphone with an active call.

To be precise, he had also hidden a phone in his hotel room, also with an active call, and had set up some inconspicuous little triggers. This way, whether someone knocked or sneaked in, he could detect it.

Listening to the recording from the beginning up to the current time, apart from faint electronic static, Dean hadn't detected anything unusual.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Looks like no one came to disturb me tonight or realized I wasn't here. Otherwise...

Right at that moment.

"THUMP THUMP THUMP~"

The muffled sound of knocking came from the recorder, along with the voice of a drunken woman: "FKYOU, open up, Tom, you bastard, open the door!"

What followed were noisy disturbances and cursing. It seemed that the woman's commotion had awakened the people nearby.

Dean checked the time. He realized with a start that this had happened just before he returned to his rented apartment!

Damn!

He hurriedly changed his clothes, concealed his weapons, then grabbed a nearby bottle of strong perfume and an alcohol atomizer, doused himself, and rushed out.

By the time Dean scaled the wall and climbed back into his room, the noise outside was still ongoing.

He rubbed his eyes hard, psyching himself up a bit, then flung the door open and growled fiercely, "Can't you guys sleep, or do you just want to try out my fists?"

"FK!"

A man, who looked even more muscular than Dean, had been trying to coax the yelling woman into his room. Interrupted by Dean, he swung a punch straight at him.

Dean used the momentum of the punch, pulling the man while simultaneously kicking his ankle joint. This brought the man crashing to the ground, and Dean seized the opportunity to pin him firmly. This was a technique from Ancient Muay Thai.

Pressing down on the man, Dean opened his bloodshot eyes wide. "I hate being disturbed when I'm resting more than anything! If this happens again, I swear you'll regret it!"

The man wanted to retort. But when he felt something cold and hard pressing against his waist, his heart leaped into his throat, and he began to plead, "I'm sorry, I was also woken up by that woman. I was in a bad mood, I'm really sorry."

Looking in the direction the man pointed, Dean saw a petite, blonde, blue-eyed woman, reeking of alcohol, muttering about "Tom" and "bastard," clearly very drunk.

Swearing inwardly, Dean got up. He let the man go, approached the woman, and supported her, preparing to kindly take her back to his room to rest. This place was next to a strip club, frequented by predatory men and women. The woman was attractive, with a figure that could easily trigger those with particular fetishes...

Being assaulted would be bad enough. But catching some disease would be a real disaster. He was different, though. He had a kind heart. And his body was very healthy!

Who would've known? The moment his hand touched the woman, Dean immediately sensed something was amiss.

This woman's muscles tensed reflexively for a split second! Combined with the fact she knocked on my door first...

A chill flashed in Dean's eyes. He hoisted the woman onto his shoulder and, amid the envious and jealous stares of the other men, carried her back to his room, firmly closing the door!

"FK! Damn pretty boy! If I had my gun today, I'd make you pay!" the man who felt wronged grumbled as he left.

Back in the room, feeling the woman's hot breath on his back, Dean said with a smile, "Lucky me. Sleeping soundly, and a woman just shows up at my door."

WHOOSH~

The woman's drunken murmurs paused slightly, and her breathing became more rapid.

The next moment, a sense of weightlessness overcame her as she was tossed onto the bed.

Done for! The woman had a premonition of what was to come.

She hastily let out a coquettish cry, feigning a dazed awakening. She looked around, then stared somewhat foolishly at Dean, who had already removed his pajamas. Freezing for a moment, she then scurried to the head of the bed and screamed, "Who are you! What are you going to do? Don't come any closer! If you come any closer, I'll scream!"

"What am I going to do?" Dean asked with a puzzled face. "Didn't you call me your Tom?"

"Huh?" The woman looked at the sincere Dean, wondering if she actually had said that while pretending to be drunk.

The next moment, Dean had already pounced on her, pinning her beneath him.

There were several tearing sounds. The rest was left unsaid...

...

「Over an hour later.」

Clutching her tattered clothes, the woman hobbled out of the motel. With trepidation, she took out her phone and made the call.

After a while, an electronic voice came from the other side: "Barbie, you've disappointed me."

The woman turned pale and hastily explained, "I wanted to report back, but..."

"No need," the other side chuckled coldly. "You screamed so loud, I could hear it downstairs. That's it, Barbie, no need to say more. I've already passed on the results. You're on your own now. I hope, for your sake, you don't end up on the purification list!"

BEEP BEEP BEEP~

Without waiting for the woman to explain, the call was hung up.

"FK!"

The woman, in anger and fear, smashed her phone on the ground, attracting the attention of two junkies who were nodding off on the street corner.

The night breeze was cold. The woman quickly crossed her arms over her chest, covering her exposed skin, picked up her phone, and scrambled into a car parked at the curb, speeding away.

...

「After a short time.」

Dean emerged from the shadows and returned to the motel.

This woman, she turned out to be from the Lucifer Game Organization!

He remembered. The setup in Brownhagen's secret room did indeed look like it was for recording or livestreaming gruesome dissection videos. If he remembered correctly, there was also a female extra with Brownhagen who was killed by a stray bullet before she could even speak.

So, Brownhagen also had ties to the Lucifer Game Organization? But why would they seek me out?

Dean's steps faltered as he ascended the stairs.

Although I killed Bill, if they wanted revenge, they would have already taken it. So it was probably unrelated to past incidents. That left only one truth. The people from the Lucifer Game Organization suspected that I was the man behind the mask! You can hide a face. But height and such, in combat, are not easy to conceal. Doing so would be courting death.

Here comes the problem. There are plenty of people my height. But the moment Brownhagen died, they immediately came to this motel to check if I was in my room. It indicated other factors at play.

My only connection to Brownhagen was Mrs. Haas's retirement home. Thinking about it... the reason Brownhagen got involved in Mrs. Haas's 'business,' expanding it and sucking the elderly dry, probably also involved the Lucifer Game Organization. The Lucifer Game Organization people were monitoring these affairs! So, when Brownhagen died, I, already involved and fitting the physical profile, naturally became their prime suspect.

"Good thing I didn't use a pistol this time, and my driving speed was decent," Dean mused with a smile. Not only have I cleared my name, but I also earned a skill for free!

After the intense encounter with that woman, he not only gratified himself but also upgraded a long-accumulated skill:

[Mastery-Level 'Sexual Prowess':

After years of rigorous practice and reflection, you have mastered all of its nuances... enough to make an iron tree blossom and a stone maiden weep. Your perception of the opposite sex's health is heightened. You can accurately discern a woman's genuine reactions, no longer needing to ask if she's enjoying herself.]

This skill... is truly nice.

Dean felt a bit of pride regarding this fact. After all, I honed this skill to its pinnacle through sheer hard work and talent!

Good thing that woman left when she did, otherwise... Hmph!

Dean snorted. A sense of invincible loneliness washed over him as he walked into the bathroom to wash away the lingering traces of their 'battle'.

After the bath, he took a deep breath and stood in front of the mirror, silently saying to himself:

Panel!

[Detective Panel]

Character: Dean

Level: 12 (1,000/2,200)

Spirit: 11

Strength: 13

Speed: 15 (Limit)

Endurance: 9

Skills: Pistol Proficiency, Ancient Muay Thai (L3), Interrogation (L2), Blowgun (L2), More (click to expand).

Attribute Points: 3

Skill Points: 5

Cases completed: 10, details omitted.

Gazing at such a luxurious panel for the first time, Dean covered his mouth and laughed heartily up at the sky.