North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 646 359 Follow-up 2 Mentor Anthony1

He opened the letter.

Dean recognized the handwriting at a glance. It was a letter written to him by Carol.

Carol had once been a brilliant criminal discovered by Dean in an early case, later taken to Britain by Anthony, his ntor, and made his disciple.

Over the years, Dean had occasionally been in contact with Carol. However, since Carol now worked for MI6 in Britain, both of them were sowhat cautious and contacted each other less frequently.

Recognizing the handwriting, Dean was puzzled. Carol had her own private contact thod; why reach out to him in this way? Could it be... did she think this was the safest thod?

Dean imdiately scanned his surroundings to ensure no one was around before seriously reading the letter's contents.

The contents were a ss—just a series of individual letters.

Luckily, Dean had beco non-human over the years, achieving Mastery Level in many areas. Decoding ciphers was no exception.

Through deciphering, Dean discovered it was a set of coordinates.

After so thought, he greeted Niel, stocked up on equipnt from the Subspace, and then flew the helicopter from the rooftop directly to the nearest military base.

「Two days later,」

Dean arrived alone at a remote town in the Sahara Desert.

In the town's small tavern, Dean t Carol, who now exuded the aura of a mature woman.

"Long ti no see, Dean."

Carol was sitting in the corner, flanked by several burly, expressionless, fully-ard n. That's why, despite her beauty, she wasn't harassed.

Dean glanced at the dull eyes of the rcenaries. A hint of wariness flashed through his mind. He sat down. "I see a touch of aggression in your eyes. Are you that interested in ?"

Carol nodded. "The scum from the Kaz school have all been trampled under my feet. Now, you're the only one left."

"You want to challenge ?"

Dean laughed. "Sorry, I have a habit of physically destroying troubles before they even arise."

"Just like those things I've investigated these past two years?" Carol's eyes lit up with even greater interest. "If I had rely lured you here, what would you do to your junior sister, your senior brother?"

She spoke the last sentence in fluent Chinese.

Dean didn't answer. He just took out the pipe that Niel had given him over a decade ago, rubbed it a few tis, and then looked at Carol seriously. "This place seems suitable for a long rest, don't you think?"

His gaze was placid, yet a chill rose from within Carol, spreading through her entire body and raising goosebumps on her skin. She knew Dean wasn't joking.

Carol dared not test Dean any further. She ekly handed over a sowhat faded photograph. "Dean, you should rember this photo. For over ten years, I've been investigating the whereabouts of our ntor, Anthony. Finally, I found a possible lead in a docunt he once reviewed."

Dean took the photo.

It was a photo of a campsite, taken by an advance search team after Anthony's group disappeared in the Sahara Desert. The photo depicted a campsite. There were no signs of damage from sandstorms, no indications of a struggle, not even evidence of a hasty departure. Inside the tents were stacks of supplies, firearms, and neatly arranged sleeping bags. Outside, arranged in a circle, were a row of barbecue grills and canvas tables laden with rotting fruit. All these items were covered by a thin layer of sand. But judging from the bite marks on so of the food, it was clear they had been in the process of being eaten. Beyond that, at the outermost edge of the camp, were seven or eight vehicles of unusual design, with several listless cals tied to them. Except for the people, everything else in the camp was still there!

It looked as if sothing sudden had happened, and the group had left in such a hurry that they couldn't take their belongings. But this didn't make sense. In the desert, food and water ant life! An orderly departure would not have left these things behind. If it had been a hasty escape, the camp wouldn't look like this. It seed more like Anthony's group had suffered an attack! The Treasure-Hunting Team consisted of dozens of fully-ard, experienced people. They had over ten satellite phones, yet none were used. It was as if, in an instant, everyone had lost the ability to resist, and all contact with the base outside the desert was severed.

Over a decade of mories surged in his mind. Dean briefly lanted the swift passage of ti, then withdrew his gaze. "My daughter is very keen for to attend her parent-teacher conference, and my ti is tight. So, please, get straight to the point."

Carol was slightly irritated by Dean's commanding tone. Yet, this very unremarkable tone inexplicably exuded a sense of pressure. She couldn't understand the source of this feeling, but she suppressed her annoyance. "I've told you before about my suspicions regarding the disappearance of ntor Anthony and his group. One possibility I ntioned was a natural magnetic field. At the ti, I also shared a top-secret MI6 discovery with you."

"Sirens?"

Dean could recall any day's mory, from his birth to the present, whenever he wished!

Carol nodded. "I also used to think 'Sirens' was just a codena. But after seeing the material ntor Anthony had marked, I realized that wasn't the case. You have Chinese heritage and understand the language; you should know that even in ancient China, there are legends of rfolk, Serpent People, Giants, and so on."

"So?" Dean spread his hands. "Are you trying to tell that a long ti ago, there was a race of Mutants on this land?"