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

Chapter 157 FBI's Involvement_1



When your future shines bright, you'll find that the world is full of goodwill.

A person died. Dean didn't even need to explain much.

The city's bomb squad took away the explosives. Detrov of the Internal Affairs Department chose to play dead outright, and Harry and Robert didn't even need to be mentioned. The forensics team, led by Holz, arrived later. After a cursory examination of Daniel's body, they concluded it was self-immolation. All that remained was to go through the motions before the case could be officially closed.

This made Dean feel incredibly pleased until an unpleasant person appeared before him.

"Detective Dean, long time no see. The speed of your promotion is astounding," a white man in a suit said with a friendly smile, extending his right hand to Dean as he approached with a female companion. For some reason, the hand he extended was shaking subtly, as if he was quite afraid of Dean.

Dean found it amusing and shrugged. "Cheston En, you seem to have matured a lot too. Are you here regarding the Source of Pain?"

The man turned out to be Cheston En, the FBI trainee Dean had first met after killing Bill. Back then, this punk was just a trainee following Anthony around—big-headed and thin-skinned, full of disdain for Dean's mixed heritage. He had spoken rudely, only to be smacked twice in the face by the redneck Lawrence.

Later, when Anthony's trainees were attempting to extract more information about the Lucifer Game Organization from a captured Dagger Gang sub-leader, North America's third-ranked hitman, 'Anbei,' attacked their safe house. Everyone inside at the time was killed.

Because of this, Anthony was placed on indefinite leave.

Cheston En had been lucky to survive that attack. Dean hadn't seen him since.

Dean didn't like this punk. But frankly, Cheston En looked much more agreeable now that he was a full-fledged agent. He must have suffered quite a bit in the two months since qualifying. He had matured a lot and probably realized that being an FBI agent wasn't as glamorous as he'd imagined.

Cheston En didn't really want to interact with Dean either. He knew he'd left a bad impression. So, upon receiving the task to investigate the Source of Pain organization and seeing Dean's detailed profile, he had been praying he wouldn't have to deal with Dean.

The 'Butcher Detective'—over twenty kills in just over three months on the job. Every time Cheston En thought about this record in recent days, a chill went down his spine. He was grateful that the first time he'd encountered Dean, the man had been lying in a hospital bed, not up and about. Otherwise, he very much doubted he would have survived until now.

But his fears had materialized. Due to his internship experience as a trainee, the head of the FBI's Los Angeles branch had directly assigned him and a senior agent to liaise on this case, with great expectations.

Seeing that Dean held no obvious ill will towards him, Cheston En breathed a sigh of relief. He smoothly retracted his hand and introduced his female partner, "This is my partner and lead investigator, Agent Ruth. Dean, would you mind stepping over to the café for a chat?"

Dean glanced at the middle-aged woman beside Cheston En, who had remained silent, and nodded. "I actually need your help with something. Let's go."

In a corner of the café, near the wall, Dean and Ruth sat facing each other. Cheston En, very sensibly, took a seat at a nearby table, presumably to ensure their conversation wouldn't be disturbed.

"Detective Dean, to be honest, I was quite surprised to see that you're still a special FBI employee," Ruth said, her eyes reflecting surprise as she looked at the handsome man before her.

Dean chuckled. "I don't stand out much among your special hires. I have things to do later, so let's get straight to the point."

Ruth nodded. "We want the survivor."

The survivor she referred to was the woman who had posed as an FBI agent to assassinate Dean. She was also the most direct lead to the Source of Pain organization since Mike Smith's death.

Dean thought for a moment, then nodded. "No problem. We're colleagues. It's a small matter."

Ruth visibly relaxed and smiled, about to offer some pleasantries.

Dean continued, "Actually, I already know the identities of the members of the Source of Pain organization and have some information that could make you look very good. If you can do me a small favor, I can handle it for you. You can just come and take over afterward!"

"What!" Upon hearing this, Ruth's pupils contracted. "What kind of favor?"

Dean leaned forward, a smile devoid of any warmth on his face. "This organization harbors strong malice towards me. I want them all dead before sunrise tomorrow!"

"You're being very direct. I'm not used to that. Besides…" Ruth smoothed her hair. "Our branch chief is very interested in their research. They seem to be training and brainwashing innocent children."

"You seem to have misunderstood me." Dean sat back. "I was merely informing you, not asking for your help. As far as I'm concerned, you're all trash, unfit for the spotlight, and too clueless to know your own damn place."

CLICK.

A cigarette was lit. Dean exhaled a puff of smoke, checked the time on his phone, and said indifferently, "I have to pick someone up at the airport tonight. Think carefully. Either accept my goodwill and clean up my mess later, or get lost, solve the case yourselves, and take the fall for me!"

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