North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 342 - 219 Carla’s Test: The Missing Criminal2

Dean tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth irrepressibly turning up.

A passing woman, drawn to his handso features, couldn’t help but look. However, when her gaze inadvertently swept over his pale blue eyes, she felt a sudden chill, as if staring at a corpse. She froze on the spot, dazed.

Carol, head bowed, inexplicably felt the previously warm airport suddenly grow cold, causing her still-recovering body to instinctively shrink.

Just then, a heavy coat was draped over her.

Dean squatted down, adjusting the coat for her. "ntor said you underwent a difficult surgery before coming here. Stay warm. After all, we’re both ntor Anthony’s students. I don’t want to be the only one left to fulfill that old fellow Anthony’s lifelong wish!"

Carol stiffened.

She looked at Dean, her lips moving slightly. Her hand unconsciously clutched the coat. The fingertips, which had been imperceptibly fiddling with the threads of her clothes, relaxed. She lowered her head again, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, "Then help Mr. Anthony teach you well. Otherwise, I’ll feel very embarrassed."

Hearing this, the upward tilt of Dean’s lips softened into a genuine, warm smile. The blade between his fingers silently slid back into the shadows.

If Carol had dared to show even a hint of hostility just now, he would have unhesitatingly sent her to another world, right here in the crowded airport. He would have taught this yandere girl, who had never encountered a true smiling tiger, what it ant to be low-key in her next life.

But... given her age, prodigy or not, her weakness was obvious: a lack of love.

Carol’s experiences had molded her into a ’giving’ type of yandere. She was obsessed with kindness.

This flaw might self-correct as Carol gained more experience. But for now, at least, Dean felt he could still manage her.

"Alright, I’ll look at the docunts when I get back. It’s getting late now. Carol, you should go ho and rest," Dean said, patting her head. "Also, I must remind you: those who play with people’s hearts will eventually be devoured by them. You need to set an anchor for yourself now!"

Carol was clearly unaccustod to such affectionate gestures. She retreated several steps in disarray before looking up again. "Hmph, I almost fell for your trick! Cut the crap. If you want to know about Mr. Anthony’s condition, read the docunts properly. I’ll co find you tomorrow!"

With that, Carol snatched Dean’s coat and, trotting on her short legs, sowhat awkwardly vanished into the bustling crowd.

Only after she disappeared did Dean finally let out a long sigh.

What an annoying little brat! He hated dealing with prodigies! Emm... Little Mike was an exception. That guy was more direct and ’simple,’ without so much damn trouble.

「 」

Pent-up emotions craved release. This brought Niel, who had booked the room, both pleasure and pain. A love like the Yellow River bursting its banks, unstoppable once unleashed, surged like a mighty, endless torrent, drowning the moonlight that evening.

「The next day, the sun was high in the sky.」

Dean basked in the morning glow, stretched, and lightly kissed the forehead of a half-asleep Niel. He then took her small, calloused hand and gently pressed it to his cheek.

This naive girl, to keep up with him and avoid being a burden, had actually spent a fortune on brutal military training.

Dean guessed she must have endured considerable hardship recently to mature so quickly and develop such strong ntal fortitude.

Seeing your significant other strive so hard for you is truly touching.

This beautiful and wonderful mood lasted until the docunts on the bedside table caught the corner of his eye, bringing it to an abrupt end.

Damn it!

Carol felt like his little sister, but one equipped with a CPU comparable to his own brain—annoying, troubleso, and yet impossible to ignore.

Prodigies are annoying enough, but a teenage prodigy is even more infuriating!

Dean cursed under his breath. He carefully got out of bed, irritably grabbed the docunts, slipped on his robe, and sat down before the large glass window of the presidential suite. Basking in the sunlight, he began to flip through the file.

「 」

Inside was a case file: a ho invasion and family annihilation case from three years ago. The criminal’s na was Xiami, codenad the "Hatchet Serial Killer."

In this respect, the Commonwealth and the United States Federation really showed their shared roots; even their naming conventions were cut from the sa cloth.

According to the file, three years ago, Xiami broke into a large villa. He first knocked out the male hoowner, then hung him up. Then, before the man’s very eyes, he ’violated’ the female hoowner.

Afterward, still not satisfied, Xiami took the hatchet he had brought and, in front of the male hoowner, hacked the female hoowner as if she were a log. He struck her over thirty tis until she was a bloody pulp, then contentedly strangled the utterly devastated male hoowner with a rope.

Due to his exceedingly bloodthirsty and brutal thods of torture and killing, the Commonwealth detectives, unaccustod to such major atrocities, pinned the moniker "Hatchet Serial Killer" on Xiami.

Having committed such heinous cris, Xiami’s fate was naturally not going to be pleasant.

"’This guy will probably get over a hundred years,’ Dean sneered, continuing to flip through the docunts."

In his previous life, the Commonwealth had abolished hanging in December 1969 out of humanitarian spirit. Even for murder, cris against humanity, or killing police officers, the sentence was always life imprisonnt. The actual prison ti served would simply accumulate based on the severity of the offenses.