North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 164 - 127: Treasure Hunt! 2

With a convulsion or two, the body stopped moving altogether.

It was killed with a single blow!

One knee sent a gray wolf flying.

Dean didn’t even look. He stepped back in a tiger-like stride without turning his head, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. His right elbow, crackling with a fierce, cold wind, slamd with devastating force into another gray wolf pouncing from behind. Simultaneously, his right leg, like a steel whip, heavily struck the head of the last gray wolf, kicking its over hundred-pound body back into the air. Tumbling and howling in agony, it crashed into a thicket...

In the blink of an eye, the three large gray wolves that had launched at him were completely wiped out—one dead, two seriously injured.

Aweso!

Dean shook his shoulders and exhaled a large plu of white breath.

The thrill of this fist-to-flesh combat was incomparable to shooting from a distance.

He strode over to the two gray wolves that had lost the ability to move and, with one whip-like kick to each, ended their suffering.

Such intact pelts. They’ll make a perfect Christmas gift for Grandpa’s family. After their father’s death, Sheila had single-handedly raised her four siblings, with trendous help from their maternal grandfather’s family.

「On the hillside.」

Thompson stood with his automatic rifle, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, his mind completely blank, like a sculpture in the biting wind.

He knew his second-eldest brother Dean, muscular like their eldest brother, had been unbeatable in school from a young age. Even now, legends about them still circulated in the school. This was why no one had ever dared to bully him or his sister at school.

But what he was witnessing... it still exceeded his comprehension.

In less than a minute, three fierce gray wolves, each a full size bigger than him, lay scattered like dead dogs, beaten to death by Dean with his bare hands.

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Thompson would have sworn he was dreaming!

The three gray wolves weighed nearly four hundred pounds combined.

Dean hoisted them onto his shoulders to test the weight. Finding it manageable and not overly restrictive to his movent, he decided to carry them to an open area.

The remaining two gray wolves, having witnessed the brutal demise of their companions, had already slinked away. For gray wolf packs that appeared ’unnaturally’ in these western mountains, losing three strong adult mbers was indeed a devastating blow. Their retreat was no surprise.

He stretched his limbs. Dean, feeling refreshed, returned to his little brother’s side. Seeing him staring dumbfounded, Dean chuckled as he got dressed. "Little bro, the way you’re looking at is a bit too intense."

"Don’t interrupt , Dean. I’m watching God."

Dean laughed and pinched Thompson’s nose. "This is just a hand-to-hand combat technique. It was used to kill people on battlefields in the past. Tis have changed; there’s rarely a chance to use it anymore. I just had to indulge myself by killing a few wolf pups."

Thompson, his nose red from the pinch, mimicked a peculiar fist-clasping salute. "Bro, I want to learn!"

"Why?"

"Cool!"

"Then I’ll teach you techniques with even cooler stances in the future. This one isn’t suitable for you."

As the brothers chatted and joked, they made their way to the tranquil lakeside. Because of the earlier bloodshed, Dean deliberately chose a spot on the opposite side of the lake.

According to the information on the treasure map:

[The treasure is located near Hagar Lake in the Hagar Mountains.

At midnight.

Stand on the east side of the lake and look towards the moon reflected in its waters.

It will guide you to where the treasure lies.]

Dean glanced at the ti on his phone. It was only a little past ten o’clock in the evening. So he and Thompson proceeded to deal with the wolf carcasses.

Skinning wasn’t as easy as one might think. Fortunately, Thompson was more knowledgeable in this regard than Dean. He was highly intelligent and had learned a lot from hanging out with his eldest maternal uncle on the farm before even starting high school.

Facing the bloody pelts, Dean watched the slender Thompson, whose expression remained unchanged.

Thompson took out a rope, hung one of the wolves by its hind legs from a nearby rock, then, with a sharp combat knife, made a small incision near the joint of the wolf’s hind leg. He took a couple of gentle sniffs of the faint sll of blood gushing out, his young face flushed as he explained to Dean, "The quality of this wolf skin is average, probably because the temperature in Los Angeles isn’t low enough. I don’t have a small brush with either; otherwise, I should have brushed the matted parts of the fur smooth. However, since the wolf is large, it can still be processed simply..."

He first made a circular cut at the joint of the wolf’s leg, then followed the grain of the fur, slicing downwards bit by bit to the wolf’s anus, before making another cut in the opposite direction towards the inside of the other hind leg.

Before long, the large gray wolf’s lower body was stripped down to its red and white layers of fat and muscle.

Dean looked at his little brother, who was bubbling with enthusiasm, and touched his chin. Was there sothing slightly off with their family’s bloodline? His little brother seed gentle and perhaps easily intimidated, but when faced with such a gory scene, not only was he not the least bit repulsed, he actually seed completely absorbed. Good intelligence, clear thinking, diverse though not deep knowledge, and a hidden, calculating side... This was the perfect template for a budding psychopath.

After more than twenty minutes, a huge wolf pelt, large enough to completely envelop most of an adult, was spread out on the rocks.

Thompson wiped the sweat from his forehead and said with satisfaction, "The skin on the wolf’s head is usually the hardest to deal with, but..." He paused, then looked at Dean as if Dean were the freak. "But this gray wolf’s skull was already caved in, so it didn’t take much effort for to process it."

Wolves were said to have heads of copper, tails of iron, and waists of tofu.

But in front of Dean, its ’copper head’ seed like a joke. Dean didn’t care, though. His real strength lay in his superhuman overall physical constitution, not just Ancient Muay Thai. An ordinary person facing three gray wolves without a weapon would be lucky to escape with their life.

Crouching beside the stripped wolf carcass, Dean licked his lips. "Thompson, we’ll take the other two back to process later. We’ve still got nearly an hour; perfect ti for a campfire barbecue."

Thompson’s stamina was average. He nodded. "I can do a bit of barbecuing, but Dean, are you sure you want to take the entire wolf carcasses back to the city? It could bring trouble."

"Enough talk. Let’s roast so at!" Dean was already collecting dry wood.

As a five-star Los Angeles detective, what was wrong with taking out a few wolf pups in his spare ti for the public good? Besides, with his detective badge, no patrol officer would go looking for trouble.

One started the fire while the other cut the at. Before long, fat sizzled as it dripped into the fire, sending up sparks and flecks of black ash. The aroma of roasting at, carried by the lting fat, wafted into the brothers’ nostrils...

Wolf at was tough and difficult to chew, leaving a rough sensation on the teeth. Thompson ate a small piece and then stopped.

Dean, with his tough bones and strong muscles, found the wolf at to his liking. He devoured a wolf leg in just a few bites, and even seed to enjoy sucking on the marrow, which still had a gay taste.

Thompson tried to follow suit but imdiately started gagging. "Dean, you’re like a werewolf right now, not even put off by this gay taste."

"Maybe, but it tastes quite fresh. My body tells it likes this marrow."

Dean tossed the bone aside. Only after consuming five or six pounds of wolf at did he pat his round belly and wipe his greasy hands on Thompson. "Not bad, your cooking skills. Next ti I’ll take you hunting again."

"Only if you teach that... HOO-HOO-HOO!" Thompson comically imitated Dean’s earlier moves, kicking in the air, but nearly stumbled into the lake.

Dean was about to help him up when he heard Thompson, who was still on the ground, shout, "Dean, quick, get down and look in the water!"

Dean looked down at the calm, cold, silver-gleaming surface of the lake. He saw the vague moonlight suddenly intensify. As the wind created ripples on the surface, the light seed to coalesce into a cone, pointing toward a small peak on the north side of the lake!

"Let’s go!"

Dean grabbed a nearby searchlight, shouldered a large pack of tools, and switched the searchlight to maximum power, illuminating the area for over ten ters as he headed towards the small peak.

Thompson also scrambled up, slung another searchlight over his shoulder, and gripping his M4, followed him.

He was about to see a real-life treasure! So exciting!