North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 463 - 278: Signs, Underground Hunting Ground1

The corridor was L-shaped. After landing, Dean took two steps forward and spotted an iron gate with railings. Just as he was about to approach it, a spine-chilling cold shiver suddenly coursed through his body, raising goosebumps all over. He froze in place.

A death warning? he wondered. Could this passage, rely a few ters ahead, actually threaten my life?

Dean’s mind raced through several possibilities, finally settling on explosive traps. Beyond that assumption, even with reflexes several tis sharper than an ordinary person’s, he couldn’t comprehend what in this seemingly ordinary town could pose a threat to him, an ard man.

In the dimly lit underground corridor, Dean’s eyes underwent a subtle change. His pupils dilated, absorbing even the faintest light, and his field of vision seed to zoom in—an illusion nearly impossible for an average person to experience. This sensation was akin to his vision switching to a combined night-vision and semi-magnified mode. In this extraordinary, inhuman state, fine, transparent wires—nearly invisible to the naked eye even in normal conditions—beca starkly clear to him, their concealnt utterly lost. These wires divided the already cramped corridor into a twisted, safe path, only about twenty centiters wide, barely broader than a foot. Indented footprints were still visible on it.

The killer must have followed this very path with their prey to enter whatever lies beyond the iron gate, Dean deduced. A highly perilous thod. It seems from the very outset of laying these traps, the killer showed no concern for potentially harming themselves. Whatever the case, this alone paints them as a complete madman!

"Forget it. Best leave this to Louise and her brave detectives," Dean muttered, even though he had already discerned the safe path through the wires. He still had no idea what other dangers lurked further along the passage. This naturally confined underground area severely restricted his abilities and his options for dealing with sudden ergencies. Dean, valuing his life, decided to retreat.

I’m not the type to willingly sacrifice myself, he thought. Never mind if it’s just Ross’s fiancée who might be in there. Even if Ross himself were captured, I probably wouldn’t risk my life charging in to save him.

Just as he was preparing to withdraw and hand the situation over to Louise and her team, an inconspicuous symbol on the iron gate suddenly caught his eye.

"What’s this?" Dean’s pupils constricted.

After a mont of hesitation, he first reported the situation to Louise and the others via walkie-talkie, asking her to quickly ascertain the opera house’s original layout and warning them against attempting to enter the corridor. Then, he crouched slightly and, treading cautiously along the safe path, approached the iron gate.

This iron gate was unlike ordinary ones. Its bulk consisted of a dense array of thumb-thick steel bars, all of which converged near where a normal door’s lock would be, forming a honeycomb-like ’lock’ that had no discernible keyhole. Should any victim manage to escape this far, they could only stare at the light seeping into the corridor through the gaps in the steel bars, completely unable to open the gate. It simply had no visible keyhole. Above the twisted, honeycomb ’lock,’ the converging lines of the steel bars ford a peculiar triangular eye symbol.

Dean had seen this symbol elsewhere before!

"Lucifer!" he breathed, the na a sudden, sharp realization.

Could this nearly derelict town’s underground conceal a base for the Lucifer Ga Organization?

Almost imdiately, Dean shook his head. No, it can’t be a base. If it were a base, the killer would be unlikely to orchestrate such a distinctively high-profile series of murders and body disposals, deliberately attracting outside attention.

Furthermore, the area where the iron gate connected to the wall showed clear signs of recent cent work; it must have been installed within the last few years, clashing starkly with the surrounding decay.

After Dean confird there were no other chanisms or traps in the vicinity, he crouched down and ticulously examined the iron gate. He eventually found a spot on the cent wall to its left that was noticeably smoother than the rest.

This smoothness is from repeated friction, he reasoned. His fingertip tapped lightly on it, revealing a faint crack around this patch of cent. Tracing the indistinct crevice with his fingernail, Dean gently pried at it.

The next mont, a small, square block from the cent wall popped outward. The previously converged steel bars emitted a soft sound and all retracted into the ground, unveiling the passage to the unknown depths before Dean.

"This probably wasn’t built by a single individual!" Dean concluded.

Having confird this, he advanced no further. He reached out, pressed the button on the wall again to close the iron gate, then retreated, making his way back to the surface. He had only gone closer to identify the symbol on the gate; he had no real intention of venturing inside to face unknown risks.

When Dean re-erged onto the surface, Louise, who had been waiting anxiously, imdiately hurried over to him, her face etched with concern. "Detective Dean, what’s the situation down there?"

"It’s an L-shaped corridor," Dean reported. "At its end, there’s an oddly shaped door. Inside the corridor, my flashlight reflected off so fine wires. I suspect they might be tripwires for explosives, so I decided to pull back for now."

Hearing the ntion of explosives, Louise drew in a sharp breath.