North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 411 - 256 Upgrade!1

The first disguised attack, Dean could understand. This likely referred to the current incident. As for the "disguise" part, it probably ant that the individuals who attacked the Los Angeles FBI branch intended to fra another force to achieve so goal.

But the second case was rather baffling.

What does it an by an attack thwarted in advance?

Could it be a cri that was foiled while still in the planning stages, with the person responsible dying by their own hand?

This was the first ti Dean had encountered such a situation!

Lucifer Ga Organization Elder—Twin Hounds?

California Desperation Hunger Ga?

Dean felt puzzled.

He wondered if he was sohow fated to clash with the Lucifer Ga Organization, having unintentionally taken out another of their Elders and seemingly disrupted one of their plans in advance.

How could he possibly explain this?

Well, at least I found a scapegoat in advance this ti!

Seeing the unconscious Cheston En on the ground, Dean let out a sigh of relief. Although he had also been present during this incident, with Cheston En, a publicly known FBI agent, taking the heat, it was unlikely the Lucifer Ga Organization would co directly after him, at least not before sothing happened to Cheston En.

But this collision, almost fated, still instilled a sense of urgency in Dean. After all, the Lucifer Ga Organization had very strong intelligence-gathering capabilities. It would be fine if they weren’t paying attention to him. But if they started to focus on him, they would discover his frequent appearance at events that disrupted their activities. When that happened, Dean couldn’t predict whether those people would make a move against him.

...

Though Dean seed lost in thought, less than a minute had actually passed in the real world.

The threat of the tid bomb persisted.

Dean couldn’t afford to dwell on the joy of his upgrade or his worries about the Lucifer Ga Organization. He hoisted the unconscious Cheston En onto his shoulder and began to retreat outside.

To avoid being accidentally hard by his own people, Dean had used his communication device to inform the surrounding officers in advance not to open fire.

Outside, more than a dozen police cars had cordoned off the area. The commotion was considerable. In a short amount of ti, TV station vans began arriving on the streets. The reporters, without even knowing what had transpired, urged their caran to film the police cars and the tense-looking officers. So of the more astute ones had already begun interviewing onlookers.

Suddenly, a reporter saw a senior police officer with a walkie-talkie. The officer’s expression changed drastically after hearing sothing, and he hastily barked orders at the surrounding officers. They then scrambled into their cars and began to withdraw.

Simultaneously, an officer shouted to the crowd of onlookers, "Clear out, there’s a bomb! Everyone leave this area!"

WHOOSH.

Civic awareness in the United States was indeed high. Though they loved a spectacle, as soon as they heard an officer shout about a bomb, they didn’t hesitate. They took to their heels and scattered, quickly clearing the vicinity. There were none of the fools often depicted in movies who might mistake it for a performance.

Conversely, the reporters who prioritized news over their own lives lit up with excitent upon hearing about a bomb.

Bomb equals terrorist attack! This is big news!

They fild with even greater enthusiasm. So caran even climbed onto the roofs of their vehicles, holding their caras high to shoot towards the building surrounded by officers, hoping to capture so thrilling footage.

Just as all the police cars had withdrawn from the imdiate surroundings, a photographer shouted towards the building, "Soone’s coming out!"

All the reporters and caran turned to look.

They saw a tall, masked man carrying a similarly large man in a suit, sprinting out with the speed of a 100-ter dash.

"Is he carrying an inflatable doll?" a fitness enthusiast murmured, eyes wide with disbelief.

Even a casual glance confird the man being carried weighed well over 75KG. Yet, he seed as light as an inflatable doll, placing no apparent strain on the masked man sprinting outwards.

But not many paid attention to this detail. Those present were more concerned about what exactly had happened inside the building.

Because the officers who had been surrounding the area were either evacuating or rushing towards nearby buildings to disperse people, the FBI’s covert branch building was left unguarded.

One fearless reporter, risking his life, headed towards the masked man erging from the building, hoping to get firsthand information.

All caras were aid at the masked man, the clear protagonist of the scene.

The masked man... also known as Dean, felt imnsely relieved at that mont. Luckily, he had thought things through. He knew that reporters in big cities like Los Angeles had their own networks of informants and intelligence; they often responded to the slightest hint of trouble as quickly as the police, if not faster. So, before coming out, he had found a piece of fabric to cover his face. Otherwise, his face would probably have been plastered across the headlines of Los Angeles’s evening news.

...

Dean, carrying Cheston En, skillfully dodged the approaching reporters and rushed to a police car that hadn’t yet left.

Beside the police car stood an inconspicuous, middle-aged white man. He was Raouf, the senior officer leading the team this ti. Like Hawk, the bald patrol officer, Raouf was responsible for several surrounding communities and had been summoned by Dean’s call.

When Raouf saw the masked Dean, he paused for a mont, recognition dawning slowly. "Detective Dean, should we call the bomb disposal unit?"

"Run!" Dean’s reply was simple and clear. He tossed Cheston En into the back seat of the car and signaled Raouf to drive.

The tid bomb would probably explode in about four to five minutes. Calling the bomb disposal unit at this point would be less effective than directly calling a demolition crew.