North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 261 174: Finish today's tasks today (Supplement) 1

It turned out Dean's guess had not been amiss. Harry quickly returned from the forensics lab, his face etched with frustration. "Dean, you guessed right. People from the Internal Affairs Departnt went to the forensics lab. Citing a docunt signed by the Chief of Detectives, they seized Henry's body and the related file. They also took possession of the body of the bald fake detective you killed. Holz and the others are being questioned right now. I estimate that by tomorrow at the latest, they'll co for us."

Dean had killed soone in the forensics lab, so he naturally needed to submit a report. He had only just submitted it. The Internal Affairs Departnt's swift reaction was beyond Dean's expectations. Clearly, this was Aisha and Sarah's handiwork. They had planned every step, each move calculated, using the nurous departnts in Los Angeles to form an overt stratagem. Dean wasn't entirely surprised. As it appeared now, the situation involved more than just the two won, Aisha and Sarah; soone else was behind them, plotting and steering events. This ant there was likely an organization operating in the shadows. However, this tactic of inciting riots to threaten and pressure regional authorities struck him with a strange sense of familiarity.

Seeing Dean remain silent, Harry said weakly, "Henry's body was our only leverage, Dean. What do we do next?"

Dean patted Harry on the shoulder. "Since we can't resist, let's just lie back and enjoy it. Co on, ti to clock out!"

"Clock out?" Harry looked at Dean in surprise, thinking he must have misheard.

Man, you weren't like this before!

In Harry's eyes, Dean was the type to hold grudges; he wouldn't even wait overnight but would retaliate imdiately. And now he was just giving in?

Daisy, munching on chips, spoke with her mouth full, "Dean, are you sure you're okay? How about we all go out for dinner tonight?"

She was genuinely concerned for her al ticket and long-term extortion target.

Dean shook his head with a smile. "People need to face reality. I reckon Captain Monet has already heard the news and is stressing over the potential public fallout from Sarah's story. So, let's not invite trouble for ourselves."

As he finished speaking, as if on cue, Monet's call ca through to his cellphone. Dean took out his phone, raised an eyebrow at the others, and answered on speakerphone, "Captain Monet, how was today's fishing trip with Deputy Chief Hunter?"

"The catch wasn't bad. But I just got a call from the Director. Are you in contact with a victim's family mber nad Sarah?"

"Yes, she's also the mother of Harry's child. But this woman has taken advantage of us."

"Forget all that for now, and don't disclose Harry's relationship with her. No matter what her demands are, soone from higher up will be sent to deal with it. Nobody wants protests or riots at this ti. For safety's sake, have Harry take a vacation out of town for a few days. He should wait for things to calm down before he cos back. anwhile, tell him to cut ties with that woman."

"Understood."

Dean ended the call and spread his hands towards the group. "Let's hope that tomorrow there isn't a crowd of Black people outside the Detective Bureau throwing rotten cheese at us."

Daisy remained optimistic. "Don't worry, cheese isn't cheap. At most, they'll throw rotten fruit and stinky eggs."

"Or stinky socks weighted with rocks," Robert added.

"But what did the captain an by his last sentence?" Harry interrupted their banter. The captain had told him to take a vacation, which he understood was for his protection. But to cut ties with Sarah? What was that about? His daughter was still with her!

Seeing his slow reaction, Dean sneered, "Buddy, those who manipulate power inevitably face a backlash. By taking advantage of the special timing of the leadership change in Los Angeles, Sarah and Aisha can get what they want. But as a price, once it's all over, they... heh!"

If an example isn't made of them, who could stand these people threatening with protests and riots so often?

Hearing Dean's words, Harry's expression changed. "Then what about my daughter?"

Robert put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "You'd better first make sure she *is* your daughter! Their motives aren't pure; who knows if the DNA report you saw was real or fake. Don't overthink it. Let's go blow off so steam. Maybe in a couple of days, Sarah will hand the child over to you, and she'll be off to enjoy her two-person world with Aisha."

Harry: "..."

Crude, but not without reason. Ultimately, he decided to go with Robert to a nightclub to vent his emotions.

Daisy also had plans. She gave Dean a comforting hug and, after playfully getting a little fresh with him, clocked out and left.

Watching Daisy's departing figure, Dean curled his lip.

Morals are certainly declining. If this woman dared to get fresh with him today, tomorrow she might dare to drink his soymilk. He would have to sternly refuse her then. Otherwise, the next ti he needed Daisy's help, she might say, "Detective Dean, you wouldn't want to slack off, would you?" Who could stand that? Even with an Endurance of fifteen points, he couldn't handle it!

「Later that Evening」

Dean drove to the roadside and waited leisurely. Around nine o'clock, a weary figure appeared before him.

"Dean, here's what you wanted. I guess you've found Henry's killer!"

It was Holz. He handed Dean a CD and a folder containing autopsy results and other related items.

"On the CD, I've recorded footage of Aisha leaving her residence in a pickup truck with a sofa set. This was just before Henry's death, and she was heading towards the dump site. This woman made no attempt to hide anything. If we find that missing sofa and confirm its material matches the fibers found on Henry's head, we can apply for a search warrant to examine Aisha's residence."

Dean took the items, satisfied. "Thanks, Holz. You're impressively efficient, faster than I expected."

Holz shook his head, his expression serious as he advised, "I don't understand why you're still fixated on this case. But given the current situation, even if we accuse Aisha of using and killing Henry, the public and Sarah won't believe it. They'll just think it's a tactic we're using for revenge and slander. If only we had discovered this a day earlier, things wouldn't have gotten to this point."

"But a day earlier, we wouldn't have known Aisha was involved. They tid it perfectly, giving us no chance." Dean waved his hand dismissively. "I was just curious about the truth. Now that I know, it's fine. You should keep these. Once all this is over, bringing them out should win you so favor from the higher-ups."

The forensics departnt was also a victim this ti. When this was all over, if Holz presented this evidence, it would probably greatly relieve the head of Forensics. It was a contribution, nonetheless.

Seeing Dean wasn't joking, Holz nodded. "Okay, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow!"

Dean watched Holz leave. He dropped his cigarette butt, stamped it out, and drove to one of his temporary safe houses.

He changed his clothes and gun, gathered his tools, and switched to a rickety second-hand pickup. A complete makeover.

Dean stood before the large mirror in the safe house. He took out a pale gentleman's mask with an eerie smile and put it on. Leaning back, he appraised his new look. Trench coat, wide-brimd hat, mask, revolver. The ensemble was flamboyant and sinister. At that mont, Dean resembled a gentlemanly rogue from a Commonwealth detective novel. His flamboyant and sinister appearance, especially the creepy smiling mask, would be instantly seared into an observer's mory, unforgettable. Correspondingly, eyewitnesses would subconsciously overlook his other features, their attention entirely captivated by the flamboyant mask.

Preparations complete. Dean took out a burner phone and called Aisha's ho. He waited for about half a minute. Just as he thought Aisha wasn't ho, the call connected.

A languid female voice ca through. "This is Aisha. What do you want?"

Dean didn't speak; he simply hung up.

Good, the target is at ho.

Finish today's business today.

Under the cover of night, Dean drove the rickety second-hand car towards Aisha's residence.

「anwhile」

At Aisha's residence, she put down the landline, confused and vaguely uneasy, as a pair of black arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Darling, who was it?"

Aisha glanced at the black arms around her waist, a flicker of disgust in her eyes, but her voice was sweet. "I don't know, probably a wrong number. Sarah, is our daughter asleep yet?"

The arms belonged to Sarah. After the news aired today, her phone had been ringing off the hook with calls from the dia, old acquaintances, and nurous unknown organizations. Many Black people had also gathered outside her residence. They ca with various motives, congregating near her ho, hoping to use her ordeal to escalate matters.

But this wasn't what Sarah wanted. She and Aisha had planned all this rely to extort more compensation from the police departnt, not really intending to cause a major incident. For safety, she had co to Aisha's place.

"She's asleep. Aisha, I'm really worried we might have gone too far," Sarah said, holding Aisha, her voice filled with unease and regret. Aisha had said she desperately needed money and hoped Sarah could use her daughter to extort Harry. Sarah hadn't wanted to stoop so low. She had muddle-headedly agreed to Aisha's plan to use her brother's death to target the precinct, hoping to extort so money.

Sarah couldn't understand. There were so many complaints from her own Black community in the news; why had her case caused such a huge reaction? She wasn't foolish; she was starting to sense that sothing was amiss.

Aisha quickly turned and embraced Sarah, comforting her. "My dear, don't overthink it. Once we get the money, we'll go to Sweden and live our life as a trio."

As she spoke, the two won—one Black, one white—shed their clothes and embraced, their bodies intertwining. They were soon lost in passion.

In the living room, a figure wearing a sinisterly smiling mask quietly entered.