North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 107 - 98 I often can’t fit in because I’m not perver

"This is the Homicide and Robbery Division... Okay, got it. We’ll be on our way imdiately."

She hung up the phone.

Daisy looked at the lackadaisical Dean and Harry. "Guys, inside the alley at 433 Oren Street, a holess man rummaging through trash found a body. I’ll notify the forensics departnt; you two should head out."

"Oh~ the easy life of earning a paycheck is over. I really don’t want to move; this ga is too much fun," Harry stretched lazily, sowhat reluctantly getting up.

He had recently beco addicted to a character in a combat ga.

It was a hero with miraculous marksmanship—Holy Gun Sean, a cool-looking man wearing a half-mask.

Although the crappy pixelation made it hard to see what, if anything, was cool about the character, Harry was deeply fascinated as long as Sean wielded a revolver.

"Harry, you’re like those junkies, except you’re hooked on ’Spirit’ marijuana," Dean quipped.

To play the ga, Harry had unbelievably turned down calls from at least five different won asking for dates in the past few days—very uncharacteristic of him.

Harry shrugged. "Dean, you don’t understand. A miserable childhood takes a lifeti to heal. I’m just healing mine. Co on, I was actually thinking about riding in that muscle car of yours; it really attracts the ladies’ attention."

"It actually attracts more attention from n," Dean chuckled. He habitually checked the new pistol he had just received before grabbing the keys and setting off.

「...」

Oren Street was located near a senior citizens’ plaza.

Due to the aging public facilities, only so elderly people enjoyed strolling nearby, casually feeding pigeons and savoring their blissful retirent.

At this ti, the United States, by exploiting nurous other nations, was seeing its national welfare system at the tail end of its peak period.

Even holess individuals with legal status received regular subsidies. Older adults who had worked in their younger years received substantial social security benefits, allowing them to live quite comfortably.

Upon arriving at the reported location, a middle-aged man, who looked to be in his forties, was being questioned by a patrol officer.

Dean, with Harry in tow, went over and greeted the officers from the local precinct. "Hey, guys, what’s the situation?"

"Detective Dean?" The patrol officer paused his note-taking and smiled. "I’ve heard the Fourth Squad has a very handso detective with a high case-solving rate. Looks like my bonus for next month is secure."

Although he was just assisting, he would still get a share of the credit if the case was solved. That was an unwritten rule.

"Wow," Harry said, his eyes filled with envy. "Dean, you’ve only been here for two months, and people at this precinct already know you."

"Gold, after all, will always shine and be well-liked," Dean said, stepping forward to shake the patrol officer’s hand. "I’m Dean. Glad you know . Can you tell what the situation is?"

"Of course!"

The patrol officer pointed at the holess man before him. "This gentleman was rummaging through the trash this afternoon. He found a pile of tattered cloth by the trash can and thought about picking it up to use as a mat. But when he lifted it, he discovered the body underneath."

After hearing this, Dean took a good look at the holess man.

The man had a large fra but was extrely thin, appearing malnourished. His restlessly fidgeting hands betrayed his current unease; he kept his head bowed and curled his feet, clearly embarrassed by the officer’s ntion of him rummaging through trash. This was a holess man with so pride left. There are many types of holess people in the United States. This particular man might have had a decent life before, then gone bankrupt for so reason. With a tarnished credit record, he probably resigned himself to holessness. Dean’s Spirit attribute was 11. Though not at a genius level, his mory and other cognitive skills were quite good. After so serious reading lately, he felt he’d made so progress. He figured it wouldn’t be long before he could grasp the basics of microexpression analysis too.

Perhaps worried he’d be considered the perpetrator, the holess man, after being stared at for a while, stamred, "After I discovered it, I asked a passerby to call the police. I didn’t disturb the body."

"That’s very good."

Dean nodded, pulled out a twenty-US Dollar bill, and stuffed it into the holess man’s hand. "Sir, thank you for the information. It’s getting cold; take this and buy so warm food."

"Thank you, you really are a good person."

"Maybe so."

Dean shrugged, asked where the holess man could be found if needed, and then headed into the alley with Harry.

The forensics team hadn’t arrived yet, so they had to start examining the scene themselves.

The body lay at the end of the alley, beside a trash can. The area was an old residential district, mainly inhabited by elderly people, very few of whom would co to such a secluded spot to throw out trash.

That holess man must have been extrely hungry to have co looking here.

The body was by the side of the trash can, covered with a pile of rags. Perhaps because the holess man had disturbed them, a corner of the cloth was exposed, already stained red with blood.

Looking at the bloodstains, Harry speculated, "The blood looks quite fresh, Dean. Maybe you shouldn’t have let that holess man go."

Dean shook his head. "Didn’t you sll a faint stench of decay when we entered the alley? The blood on the cloth looks bright, likely due to the humidity here. Let’s pull back the cloth and look at the body."

He had carefully observed the surroundings before entering.

There were no bloodstains, no drag marks, and no signs of a struggle. This place might just be a dumping ground for the body.

The two of them put on gloves.