North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 155 - 122 My Sweetheart Who Likes to Tell the Truth

Second psychological insinuation: Sophie had hard many people and made nurous enemies.

Third psychological insinuation: It was because of the first two reasons that she hated Sophie and the people around her so much.

After setting up these three steps, she used a montage narrative when facing Dean’s final question.

Montage narrative is a tactic so people subconsciously use when lying: constructing narratives with mixed-up tilines, twisted facts, and diminished responsibility through language. The words themselves might be true, but the aning conveyed is completely different.

For example:

Stating, "The woman I liked got married," to imply, "I desired another man’s wife."

Or saying, "I divorced her, she got with soone else, and then I hit her," to obscure the fact that "I hit her, which led to our divorce, and then she found soone else."

It’s a self-taught trick, but those who use it proficiently are often habitual offenders.

Camille was just like that. Although she answered Dean’s questions and didn’t technically lie, the impression she conveyed was intended to once again remind Dean: "The reason I detest Sophie and her group so much is because Yang Di is my good friend. They’re despicable, and I can’t stand them."

These techniques are very covert. A regular detective, even soone like Lawrence whose ex-wife was a psychologist, would likely be led by the nose by Camille, focusing their investigation on the girls Sophie had hard. And they wouldn’t consider one crucial question: what exactly was Camille’s own relationship with Sophie?

Too bad she t Dean!

As soon as he entered, Dean slled a faint chemical odor on Camille. He scanned the room. Despite seeing adult n’s and won’s clothing, shoes, and personal items, he found no detailed trace of a Chinese couple having lived there; it looked more like a setup to scare off burglars.

In a corner of the spacious living room, there was a pile of cages. These kinds of cages were usually for small mice or rabbits. This made Dean realize Camille had sothing to hide; this place wasn’t Yang Di’s parents’ ho at all, but more like a secret base for two girls!

When Dean called out her little act, the distressed panic Camille had been feigning faded from her face. Her eyes, wide with astonishnt, t Dean’s nearby blue ones. After staring for a few seconds, she chuckled. "All right, I admit it. Sophie tried to screw over. I stuck a dinner knife in her breast, and those bitches let go."

Clearly, her previous deanor had all been a disguise. She was a girl who understood psychology very well.

Dean watched as Camille smoothly transitioned her persona, until she turned pale and subconsciously looked away, avoiding eye contact. Then he reached out and pinched her chubby cheek, "Good. I like it when cute little things tell the truth."

Stepping back, Dean returned to his seat. "Tell , how did you kill Sophie."

It was only then that Camille noticed Dean’s left hand. At so point, without her realizing, it now held a cold, tallic gun, aid steadily at her chest.

She broke out in a cold sweat.

Just monts before, she had hesitated, wondering whether to pull the surgical scalpel from her pantyhose and attack Dean. But then, thinking of the perfect alibi she had for Sophie’s case, she hesitated again.

It appeared that hesitation had saved her.

Faced with Dean’s straightforward inquiry, Camille bit her lip and said stubbornly, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sophie’s disappearance has nothing to do with , let alone killing her!"

Seeing her continued defiance, Dean smiled. "I know. You’ve set up a lot of misdirection: the car Sophie supposedly left in, the precise incisions and sutures on her body, the drug preparations..."

With each item Dean listed, Camille’s face grew paler. Although she was smart, she was still under twenty and lacked experience. She was slow to react to the pressure from a seasoned predator like Dean.

She had tried to psychologically manipulate Dean. And Dean, having sensed sothing amiss, was in turn using Camille as an experint, practicing psychological induction, destruction, and reconstruction...

Just as Camille seed about to follow Dean’s lead, a soft sound broke the tension.

A Chinese girl with aggressively arched brows and sharp, triangular eyes glared at Dean, a handgun in her grip, aid at him. "Whoever you are, this is my ho! Get out of here, now!"

Camille was also startled by the commotion. She looked at Dean in terror. This was all psychological play. She realized Dean had just been trying to manipulate her ntal state!

"Camille, are you okay?"

Camille shook her head. "Yang Di, I’m fine. And Detective Dean, if you have evidence, co back with an arrest warrant. Otherwise, you’re not welco here!

"If you don’t leave now, we’ll call the police and file a complaint against you! We’ll also contact the dia and tell them you discriminate against Chinese people, that you’re indifferent to the real killer but aggressively harass the victim!"

"Camille, why waste breath talking to him? The doctor diagnosed with severe depression. If he doesn’t leave, even if I shoot him dead, the judge will side with !" Yang Di’s hand, holding the gun, trembled badly, but she still tried to threaten Dean.

Unfortunately, their clumsy charade posed no threat to Dean.

He nonchalantly lit a cigarette, propping his feet on the coffee table. "You can try. Let’s see if your gun is faster, or mine!"

This foolish woman hasn’t even taken the safety off her gun.

"What exactly do you want?" Camille stepped in front of Yang Di, apparently having noticed this too. While speaking, she gestured to Yang Di.

Dean, of course, wasn’t blind. He strode over to the two won, snatched the gun from Yang Di’s hand, tossed it onto the sofa, and, unwilling to waste any more ti, stated his purpose:

"First, Yang Di, you must cooperate with . Identify those who assaulted you. I’ll help you take care of them.

"Second, Camille, considering we’re acquainted, I’ll allow you to turn yourself in to lessen the murder charge. After all, you’re probably quite confident the evidence chain against you is insufficient. If so, why be so timid?"

To be honest, Camille wasn’t guilty of any truly heinous cri, nor could one say Sophie entirely deserved her fate. This case was a complete ss. The real kicker was that Camille’s thod of murder was akin to a ti bomb; a garbage truck had actually caused Sophie’s death, and Camille had likely set up many misleading clues.

Investigating this case by the book would likely be very ti-consuming, and in the end, there might still not be enough evidence to form a complete chain.

Dean only wanted Experience Points.

If Camille refused, then he would have no choice but to kill her.

「Just then,」

A police car arrived, its siren blaring.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The doorbell rang.

Yang Di, standing behind Camille, showed a gleeful expression and ran to open the door. "Officer, this man is pretending to be a detective and has unlawfully entered our ho with a gun!"

Yang Di had secretly called the police. Seeing this, Camille also sighed in relief.

The arriving patrol officers—one a bald, brawny man, the other a towering black man, both ard with guns—looked reassuring.

Just as Camille thought she could use the patrol officers to escape with Yang Di, she saw Dean greet them, "Hawk."

"Dean?" The bald patrol officer lowered his gun slightly. "Buddy, it’s you! Need so help?"

"Close the door for ."

Hawk glanced at Yang Di’s Chinese face without a mont’s hesitation. After giving an "OK" sign, he left with his partner without even entering the room, under the despairing gaze of the two won.

Before leaving, he even thoughtfully helped Dean close the front door...