North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 601 - 338 Taking Over the Case_1

"What the hell is this?"

Old Hunter staggered a few times at the sight inside the room, nearly fainting on the spot.

An explosion case hadn't been settled yet, and now a particularly vile mass homicide was unfolding in his jurisdiction. He suspected that his fate of taking the blame was inescapable.

Thinking of the few big shots who were now rushing to the scene outside, Old Hunter hardened his heart. Disregarding the hard concrete beneath him, he rolled his eyes and pretended to faint.

He swore that once he got to the hospital, he would cite his failing health as the reason to forcefully apply for retirement. As for being the captain, to hell with it! Whoever wants the job can damn well take it! He was done serving!

But how could Dean allow Old Hunter to escape so easily?

Now that people from the FBI and the headquarters had arrived, all the pressure would land on him, the detective chief, if Old Hunter fainted. He couldn't let the old man get away!

Dean acted quickly, catching Old Hunter as he was about to hit the ground. While pinching Old Hunter's philtrum, Dean gently said, "Captain Hunter, you're the backbone of our Fourth Squad right now. You can't afford to have health issues."

A sharp pain at the tip of his nose!

Old Hunter let out a pitiful cry and sprung up from Dean's embrace.

Facing the smiling gazes of Dean and Lawrence, he knew he couldn't get away with it. He muttered under his breath before saying dejectedly, "The people from headquarters and the FBI are outside discussing how to suppress the news. All the reporters and media drawn here by the explosion haven't left yet. And this case will probably be handed over to the FBI. If the FBI people solve the case quickly, the pressure on us at the Detective Bureau won't be too great. If they can't solve it... Fellas, don't be naive enough to think I, a squad captain, can bear such a huge burden. The best outcome is that our Fourth Squad pays the price together to appease public anger."

This old fox, Old Hunter, simply threw in the name of the Fourth Squad and had effectively roped Dean and Lawrence back into his camp. His message was straightforward: either leave together or get through the trouble together.

Seeing this, Dean's eyes flickered with a hint of helplessness. No choice. Old Hunter was already on the verge of retirement; he was sticking it out only to build a network for his kid and to collect a higher pension afterward. If Old Hunter truly got ticked off, there would be no one left to take the front and play the fool. Dean could compromise, but if he was asked to be the fool, he would definitely choose to overturn the table. So, he could only placate with kind words, "Captain Hunter, actually, this situation is an opportunity for us."

"An opportunity?"

Old Hunter pointed at the macabre puzzle of bodies above. "Over twenty young people died in such a bizarre way in our jurisdiction. I'm sorry, Dean, but aside from our names going down in Los Angeles police history with this case, I really can't think of any opportunity!"

"The bigger the case, the greater our authority will be!"

Dean cajoled, his tone full of temptation, "I already know the direction of the investigation. Initially, we didn't have enough clout; as mere detectives, it's difficult to proceed with the investigation quickly. Now it's different. If we can find the murderer quickly, the higher-ups will fully support us, no matter who we say we need to investigate. Once we achieve results, the whole of Los Angeles will know the renown of the Fourth Squad. And you, Captain Hunter, will earn an unbelievable amount of political capital before you retire! This will allow you to pivot and achieve a new pinnacle in your career!"

What is political capital? Money, fame, and merits—all in one—that's political capital.

Old Hunter wasn't as deep a thinker as Dean but was still moved by his speech. After all, at worst, he would retire in disgrace, becoming a laughingstock. Compared to what he could gain, losing face was nothing.

He took a deep breath and said to Dean seriously, "I can withstand the pressure from above, but a case of this scale is usually the FBI's domain. Do you have any way to snatch it from their hands?"

Dean gestured grandly, confidently saying, "Leave that to me. Whether it works out or not, this is our only chance to turn things around. Otherwise, once the FBI takes over, regardless of whether they solve the case or not, it will be difficult for the members of our Fourth Squad to have good prospects in the Detective Bureau."

Of course, that wasn't the real reason.

Dean's plan was to leverage pharmaceutical companies to become a player among the nation's capitalists. His identity in the Detective Bureau no longer carried the same weight as before.

The reason he was encouraging Old Hunter to stand firm was that he realized the murderer was extremely skilled and brutal and had been planning this for a long time. If the case were handed over to the FBI, there was no certainty they could handle the murderer.

It wasn't that Dean looked down on the FBI.

It was just that when it came to solving cases, he looked down on anyone other than himself!

The murderer was his source of Experience Points.

He couldn't let them get away!

Old Hunter was somewhat dizzy from Dean's words, feeling the cause and effect were a bit muddled. But just as he was trying to clear his thoughts, a flurry of footsteps came from outside, prompting him to hastily ask, "Dean, what do you need me to do?"

"Just nod when we get chewed out. But if someone from the FBI dares to say they're taking over the case, go up and give him a big slap in the face. The rest is up to me."

"Ah?"

Old Hunter was stunned. This is your damn plan?

THUD.

The door was pushed open.

A middle-aged man with a gloomy face, dressed in a sharp, fitted suit, walked in with a young, brown-haired, apple-faced girl.