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

Chapter 255: Taking the Rap, Leveling Up_2



It's all over...

「Elsewhere.」

Dean floored the accelerator, hitting one hundred and twenty miles per hour, rushing to the FBI's Los Angeles office at top speed.

He hadn't come here to desecrate the hot girl's corpse.

It didn't matter whether she had ultimately deceived them or not. She was dead, and dwelling on it was pointless.

He came here to use the authority of the intelligence system here to obtain, as quickly as possible, the most authentic employee data for Mrs. Kim's Department Store and Foreign Trade Company.

There are two major intelligence organizations in the United States.

For domestic affairs, it is still the FBI.

For foreign affairs, it is the CIA, which deploys a large number of spies annually.

Indy, the supervisor from the trade building, had made Dean realize that the FBI might have been monitoring such places all along to prevent foreign spies from infiltrating.

Therefore, they likely had detailed information on the companies renting office space there as well.

The Miniature Killer and the hot girl had only arrived in Los Angeles a few days ago. The two of them probably had even less time to interact, making it unlikely they could have created so many diversions.

The possibility of a decoy was greater.

This meant the employee data on the computers inside Mrs. Kim's Department Store and Foreign Trade office was fake. The Korean man he had encountered downstairs earlier, the one who had been in a hurry to get back to the office for some documents, was also suspicious!

Finding him would likely be very difficult.

Returning to verify the information and discern its authenticity would also consume a significant amount of time.

This was the fundamental reason Dean hadn't returned to the trade building, instead coming directly to the FBI to find employee information for 'Mrs. Kim's Department Store and Foreign Trade Office.'

「…」

After parking the car, Dean took out his FBI badge, clipped it to his chest, and strode towards the courtyard of an unassuming, six-story building.

Outside the courtyard, there was a guard booth.

The gate was an electric retractable gate.

If it weren't for the address provided by Cheston En, anyone seeing this building on the edge of a residential area would first assume it was the headquarters of some small company.

Upon reaching the entrance, Dean peered through the guard booth's glass and saw the security guard inside slumped over a table, apparently asleep on duty.

He was about to knock on the glass to get the guard's attention.

Suddenly, Dean's pupils constricted.

Something was wrong!

A normal person's breathing cycle is about two to three seconds—a single breath. But from the moment he'd spotted the guard until now, the man's body hadn't moved in the slightest. That was clearly abnormal!

Ruling out the possibility that the guard was a master of deep, slow breathing...

Then there was only one answer...

The person was dead!

「…」

Realizing this, Dean glanced at the rotating security camera out of the corner of his eye. He knocked on the glass nonchalantly, waited a few seconds, then turned and walked away, muttering curses as if annoyed.

Only after leaving the range of the surveillance did he take out his phone and call for backup.

The situation inside was unclear.

As capable as he was, Dean knew he couldn't charge in alone.

Moreover, he had just contacted Cheston En, who hadn't sounded alarmed. This meant that, at that point, nothing here had gone wrong yet.

In just over twenty minutes, something had gone terribly wrong here.

Whether it was the Lucifer Game Organization or the terrorist group behind the earlier counterfeit money case, Dean had no intention of risking his own life.

At that moment, inside the building, a burly man wearing an Evil Wolf Mask shifted his gaze from the surveillance monitor and spoke urgently into the communication device on his shoulder, "Hound, someone approached and then left. Identity unknown. Pick up the pace!"

STATIC.

"Got it!"

An annoyed female voice crackled in response through the static. Beneath her voice, a man's faint scream could be heard.

「The scene shifted.」

Office.

Next to the hot girl's body, Cheston En—stripped naked, his limbs immobilized by wooden supports in a kneeling posture—moaned weakly.

Blood dripped continuously from his face and chest, drenching him.

He never would have imagined that someone could infiltrate an FBI facility so silently and eliminate everyone inside!

Even if this was just a branch office with lighter security.

But behind them stood the full might of the FBI!

These were madmen, heedless of the consequences!

As Cheston En panicked about his impending death, his mind raced.

The figure in a Dog Face Mask leaned closer, her voice cold, "I wanted you to slowly savor the fear of death, but we're short on time. Apologize to my sister now, and I can make your death quick!"

Cheston En lifted his bloodied face. "You're challenging the authority of the FBI! I'll be waiting for you in hell!"

"Authority?"

The woman in the Dog Face Mask scoffed as if she'd heard the world's greatest joke, then slowly removed her mask. "Cheston En, you will only appear on the casualty list after a terrorist attack. As for me, I'll become the new supervisor here."

When he saw her face, Cheston En's eyes widened.

He recognized her!

Or rather!

He had learned from *her* how to become a disposable FBI field agent!

No wonder she had compromised this place so easily, moving as if she owned it!

But how could a former FBI instructor like her suddenly transform into a crazed terrorist?

"Why?"

Facing the dark muzzle of the gun, Cheston En ignored the blood stinging his eyes. He seemed to be questioning the woman in the Dog Face Mask, and perhaps also this world where distinguishing right from wrong had become so difficult.

"There is no why. Apologize. Even though I didn't particularly like my sister, that gave you no right to kill her!"


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