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"..."

If my previous self was so handso, why would he ss with gangs?

Isn’t he afraid of getting screwed by those veteran Black gangsters?

Dean looked at his sharply-contoured face in the rearview mirror and was sowhat speechless.

This body must be of mixed heritage. Black hair, blue eyes, three-dinsional features, and a sturdy fra. Overall, he looked more like a Westerner, yet without their coarse pores and heavy body hair.

Being undercover sucked enough.

The ’previous self’ even turned out to be a mole the gangs had planted inside the police force... It was the worst of the worst.

In Dean’s opinion, the previous self would clearly have a better future as a gigolo or model than as a corrupt cop.

The days spent walking the knife’s edge were hard. In this line of work, most were rely sewer rats.

Now Dean just hoped that his previous self hadn’t gotten in too deep with the gangs, giving him a way out to beco a law-abiding, five-star citizen of Los Angeles who could stand in the sunlight. Otherwise, he would have to abandon his identity as a detective and sneak away.

The pickup truck headed south. After half an hour, it finally left the forest trail.

Dean’s head was growing increasingly dizzy. In his mind, the mories of the two individuals began to collide and rge, dulling his cognition significantly. In this state, it wasn’t suitable to continue driving.

Dean slapped himself across the face, using the pain to clear his mind a bit.

The previous self had just participated in a bank robbery. Now, with the situation unclear, it wasn’t wise to stay at a hotel.

He glanced around. Seeing no vehicles ahead or behind, he abruptly turned the steering wheel and headed into the wilderness.

A mont later, the car drove into a low-lying area and stopped far from the main road.

Dean locked the car windows, squinted, and slowly fell into a deep sleep...

BUZZ. BUZZ.

Dean opened his eyes in a daze. He subconsciously took a cellphone from his pocket and pressed the answer button, "Who’s this?"

"Dean?"

A clear female voice ca from the other end of the phone.

Hearing soone call his na, the confusion in Dean’s eyes gradually dissipated as he focused on the phone.

He shook his still sowhat heavy head. This voice is vaguely familiar, as if its owner ant a lot to my predecessor!

Dean realized he hadn’t fully rged with his predecessor’s mories yet. Unsure about the caller’s identity, he responded vaguely, "Hmm?"

"Dean, it’s been a while since you called . Is it convenient for you to talk now?" The woman’s voice was very gentle.

Could this woman be my predecessor’s girlfriend? Dean felt a headache coming on.

He continued vaguely, "Hmm, there’s no one else around!"

Little did he know, with that statent, the tone on the phone imdiately beca serious. "Dean, what exactly is your situation there? According to regulations, you must contact every three days to report your status. But now it’s been five days since you last reached out. I thought you might have been killed in action!"

Dean: ???

Regulations? Killed in action?

Dean reacted quickly. "Hey, you know, regulations are rigid, but I always run into unexpected situations over here. By the way, you must have sothing urgent to discuss with , right?"

There was silence on the other end for a mont before she continued, "Very important business!"

"I need you to use Nathan as a lead to investigate the recent bank robberies. The stolen funds were from Senator Snetter’s family transfers. If you can get any leads, it will be very easy for you to move into the ’Robbery-Homicide Division’ (Major Cris Unit)..."

Dean was stunned.

Robbery-Homicide Division! Bank robbery! Fuck!

Dean looked back, glancing at the two large, full backpacks on the back seat, and went numb...

His mind was in turmoil. Nathan had sent him to the police departnt undercover... and then the police sent him back to Nathan’s side again??? Is this so kind of nesting doll ga?

The woman, noticing the silence, asked in confusion, "Dean?"

Dean snapped back to reality. He rubbed his still faintly aching head and tentatively said, "This is difficult. As you know, I’m not Black, and I still can’t fit into their circle."

"Dean!" The woman’s voice grew stern. "I’m not discussing this with you; this is an order!"

"But..."

"No buts!" The woman interrupted Dean directly, her voice softening a bit. "Dean, you don’t want to fail your internship, do you? If that happens, not only will the Los Angeles Police Departnt not want you, but no agency in the surrounding area will take a rookie intern who’s been fired!"

Dean: ...

The way this woman threatened him sounded sowhat strange. Besides, with these millions, he could simply abandon his official detective identity and live in another state. Who cares about joining so ’Robbery-Homicide Division’! Free United States, gunfights every day!

Dean had no intention of dying for Uncle Sam.

He responded perfunctorily, "...Alright, I get it."

"Mm, I’ll be waiting for good news."

After saying that, she hung up the phone.

...A damn double agent, huh...

Dean pondered with difficulty for a mont and rubbed his still heavy head. His eyelids began to droop. Unable to withstand the relentless wave of confusion and sleepiness flooding his mind, he fell asleep again.

Countless mory fragnts ca rushing in. In his sleep, Dean began to experience the life of another Dean...

「Elsewhere.」

Los Angeles Police Departnt, Gangs and Narcotics Division.

Eve put down her phone and looked at Dean’s file on her desk, her pretty brows furrowed. Sothing about this pawn didn’t sit right with her.

Despite Eve’s stern tone on the phone, she didn’t actually have many ways to manipulate Dean. She had initially persuaded Dean, the rookie, to go undercover because he had sought her out, wanting to join the ’Robbery-Homicide Division.’

Beyond that, Eve had no other ans to control Dean. He just needed to give up his police officer identity—or at least his identity as an officer in the Los Angeles vicinity—and he could easily apply to police departnts in other states. After all, in the United States, being a police officer is just a job.

"Looks like I need to find a way to better control this rookie!" Determination flashed in Eve’s eyes.

Bank robbery cases, in principle, did not fall under the jurisdiction of the Gangs and Narcotics Division. But this particular bank robbery involved Senator Snetter. If she could help crack the case, securing the captain’s position, soon to be vacated by retirent, would be a breeze.

This was a great opportunity! She had to get involved! And Dean was the only officer she, the deputy captain, could discreetly use at the mont. As long as he could get any information about the bank robbery, she could legitimately intervene, earn Senator Snetter’s favor, and penetrate that higher circle!

With this in mind, Eve’s gaze landed on Dean’s address...

A ray of morning sunlight shone through the car window, casting onto Dean’s tightly closed eyes.

"Mmm~" Dean groaned softly and slowly opened his eyes.

In his mind, the mories of two people t and rged, as though two souls inhabited his body.

He was dazed for a mont before his eyes regained their spark.

Looking at the unfamiliar yet familiar face in the rearview mirror, he rubbed his cheeks and squeezed out a stiff smile. "From now on, I am Dean, a Dean who vows to join the Los Angeles ’Robbery-Homicide Division’ to investigate the truth behind his father’s death!"

Of course, that was his predecessor’s thinking. Dean felt no affection for his predecessor’s family. He didn’t want to be a detective either. However, for safety’s sake, he needed to eliminate the risks his foolish predecessor had left behind!

That fool of a predecessor! Because his father died in a drug investigation case, he had approached people like Nathan during his studies to make it easier to get close to xican drug dealers later. He even deliberately revealed that his father was a forr detective with a good background, making it seem easy for him to join the detective bureau. After so prodding, Nathan actually thought it was a good idea... So initially, Dean’s predecessor approached Nathan on purpose. But he hadn’t expected that, after qualifying for the detective bureau due to his background, he would end up assigned to the Gangs and Narcotics Division because of poor performance. There, he t a shitty boss who told him to just go find any gang and go undercover. Then the simple-minded fool took the opportunity to return to Nathan’s side...

However, everyone who knew about his predecessor’s foolish actions had died in the cabin. Strictly speaking, he was now Dean, the intern detective with a clean slate.

The danger Dean perceived involved a woman.

This concerned whether he could safely pocket that sum of over three million eight hundred thousand US dollars!

Dean touched the cold firearm at his waist, started the car, changed direction, and headed towards Los Angeles...

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