North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 407 - 254 This guy has definitely read "The Art of W

But Cheston En didn’t give her a chance.

BANG BANG BANG.

A series of muzzle flashes erupted.

Soon, another corpse lay on the ground: a woman with an attractive figure, dead, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

After the killing, Cheston En, who had appeared composed, slumped against the wall and slowly slid down, his gun hand trembling uncontrollably. This was actually his first ti killing soone.

Cheston En didn’t dare look at the wide-open eyes of the dead woman on the ground. He hung his head, pressing his left hand forcefully onto his right as if trying to suppress his own shaky reaction, muttering incessantly as if trying to hypnotize himself, "FK, I ant to grab my phone. How did I pull out a gun? You can’t bla , you can’t bla ... I just reacted under stress..."

「Elsewhere.」

Dean located the patrol officer responsible for registration and inquired about the employee information for Mrs. Kim’s Departnt Store Foreign Trade Company.

The patrol officer, clearly recognizing Dean, said excitedly, "Detective Dean, just a mont! I’ll check right away!"

As he spoke, the officer wet his finger with saliva and flipped through the pages—RUSTLE, RUSTLE—quickly finding the na of the employee from that foreign trade company on the second page.

He looked up and said with so difficulty, "Detective Dean, they’ve all left."

"They’ve left?"

Dean furrowed his brows, then turned and grabbed a building security officer. "Aside from Manager Indy, who else can access the employee information for these rental companies?"

The security guard didn’t recognize Dean, but seeing the patrol officer’s respectful attitude towards him, he didn’t act difficult. After a mont’s thought, he shook his head. "Our boss trusts Manager Indy a lot, so all departntal data is managed by people in Manager Indy’s office. Although the office staff are still here, accessing client information requires a password, and only Manager Indy knows it!"

"Fuck!" Dean cursed, his usually good patience wearing thin.

That Park Budong must have realized sothing was wrong by now and fled. Even if he issued a national alert, there were many loopholes for fugitives in the United States. In practical terms, it wasn’t as effective as one might imagine. Moreover, cooperation between states was weak. There had even been cases where people with arrest warrants wandered around for twenty or thirty years before getting caught for sothing else; only when they confessed to the warrant did the police realize they were wanted criminals. So, if they let Park Budong escape, they’d likely never find him.

Just then, the sa patrol officer suddenly pointed towards a black-haired man by the roadside, alerting Dean, "Detective Dean, that man! He looks like an employee of Mrs. Kim’s Departnt Store Foreign Trade Company."

Dean whipped his head around to look in the direction the officer was pointing.

He saw a slim, handso man in a suit, sweating, sowhat awkwardly pleading with the officers cordoning off the building. One of the officers, seeing he was Asian, impatiently waved him off and told him to get lost.

Seeing this, Dean imdiately walked over. "What’s going on?"

The patrol officer, who also recognized Dean, instantly switched his impatient expression to a smile. "Detective Dean, this guy says his company has an important file they forgot, and he wants to go in and get it."

The slender, handso man, seeing Dean was a detective, imdiately pleaded, "Detective, this is a data file our company president urgently needs! If it’s not sent to the client on ti, all the employees in our office could be fired. This affects the livelihoods of seven or eight families! Please, let go in!"

"What is your na? Which company do you work for?" Dean asked, his gaze sweeping over the man from head to toe, relaxing his vigilance slightly. This disheveled man was unlikely to be the ticulous Park Budong.

Seeing room for negotiation, the man hurriedly said, "My na is Lee Zai Xi. I’m an employee of Mrs. Kim’s Departnt Store Foreign Trade Company, responsible for registering, coordinating, and managing incoming and outgoing goods. Here’s my access card!"

As he spoke, he pulled his ID badge out from under his clothes.

"Do you know Park Budong?" Confirming the man was indeed from Mrs. Kim’s Departnt Store Foreign Trade Company, Dean didn’t waste ti and asked directly.

"Park Budong?" Lee Zai Xi looked sowhat confused, then nodded. "Yes, I know him. He’s a new employee who just joined recently. Detective, has he committed a cri?"

"Where is he now? Do you know where he lives? Do you have his contact information?"

Facing the barrage of three questions, Lee Zai Xi wiped the sweat from his forehead again and stamred, "Park Budong was scared by the gunfire earlier. He registered and then left. I only have his phone number. His address... Oh, right! Our office has registration information for every employee; it should have his rental address!"

"Let’s go!"

Dean grabbed the Korean man nad Lee Zai Xi and, as if picking up a plush toy, hurried him into the building. The guy was probably very frail; he couldn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds. For Dean, carrying him was like holding a kettle.

「Five minutes later.」

With Lee Zai Xi’s help, Dean successfully obtained Park Budong’s address. Not only the address, but on the computer, Dean also saw a photo of Park Budong. He was a handso yet effeminate-looking man with long hair and an unsettling gaze, though he was likely popular with certain won—and n.

"It’s quite strange, actually," Lee Zai Xi said, holding a docunt, his curiosity piqued. "We were planning to go for a drink to relax and process things after the shooting, but Park Budong was in a hurry to leave. Detective, he..."

This handso detective exuded an intimidating strength, yet it also offered a sense of security, Lee Zai Xi thought. If possible, he wanted to get the detective’s contact information.

Dean, made uncomfortable by Lee Zai Xi’s odd gaze, cut him off. "Take your things and get out of here quickly."

With that, Dean left the small office first. He took out his cell phone and notified Hawk, the bald patrolman, instructing him to have the nearest officer rush to the address. He also gave Hawk Park Budong’s description to relay to the precinct officers, urging them to be vigilant.

These Koreans like to stick together, Dean mused. Unlike the Chinese-Arican community, which isn’t as unified by region or ti of immigration, Korean communities are often quite decent, forming their own distinct enclaves. Park Budong, a new employee, rented a place in one such neighborhood. About twenty minutes had passed since he left. Dean hoped Park Budong wasn’t aware he’d been exposed and hadn’t already abandoned everything at his residence to flee.

After making the calls and deploying his strategy, Dean returned downstairs, rounded up Carlo, and they rushed to Park Budong’s residence together.

As for Harry, Dean knew he had connections with all sorts of people. He asked Harry to go to Mrs. Kim’s Departnt Store Foreign Trade Company, print Park Budong’s information and photo, and then send the photo to snakeheads who could help soone skip town.

If Park Budong just found a place to hide after leaving, that would be one thing, Dean thought. But the mont he tries to flee the country, he’ll find out what an inescapable net truly is!

In the speeding Humr, Carlo gripped the seatbelt tightly. "Boss Dean, did you used to drive tanks or sothing?" This was the first ti he’d seen Dean so intensely focused on a single suspect.

"Bumper cars!" Dean retorted. He then expertly weaved his Humr through traffic, forcefully cutting in and surging ahead, leaving a trail of hot exhaust and angry shouts behind him.

He truly valued Park Budong as a significant Experience Points reward! Just one more level, and his panel would reach the current stage’s attribute limit, unlocking the next stage! He was only a little over a thousand Experience Points shy of leveling up. Dean was determined to get those points!

What was normally about a twenty-minute drive was compressed to eight minutes under Dean’s seemingly reckless but actually incredibly steady driving, bringing them to the target community.

Before the Humr had even skidded to a halt, the violent CRACK-CRACK-CRACK of semi-automatic rifle fire, mixed with screams and cries, erupted from the community complex ahead—the one flying a Korean flag—and carried to the street.

"Looks like our little sweetheart’s been cornered!" Dean muttered, executing a sharp drift. He used the montum to fling open his door and roll out, then, like a cheetah, sprinted towards the source of the gunfire.

Behind him, Carlo unbuckled his seatbelt and tried to follow, but his legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, vomiting profusely. Dean’s driving had been too much for him.

By the ti Carlo felt well enough to draw his gun and prepare to assist, the gunfire within the community had already stopped.

Carlo wiped his mouth. "Boss Dean is just too damn efficient." He’d bet the target was either dead with a bullet to the head from Dean, or had all his limbs broken. There was no third option!