North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 61 - 60 Akaz Academy Faction_1

Outside the interrogation room, seven or eight individuals were listlessly spacing out, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.

One of them noticed Dean’s arrival and approached him with a disgruntled expression. "Sir Anthony is inside waiting for you."

Dean saw the man’s face clearly and couldn’t help but chuckle.

He recognized the man. This was Cheston En, the same unfortunate soul Lawrence had beaten nearly to death with a few hefty Texas punches.

Seeing Dean’s mocking smile, anger flared in Cheston En’s eyes. Then, as if recalling something, he let out a cold laugh and turned back to his companions.

Dean noticed that the two dimwits he had beaten up last time were nowhere to be seen. He wondered whether they had encountered trouble or had been assigned other tasks.

Inside the interrogation room, darkness enveloped the space.

In the corner where prisoners usually sat, the flickering light from a screen illuminated Anthony’s somewhat gloomy face.

"Your current look really resembles a Hollywood supervillain," Dean said, closing the door and walking up behind Anthony.

Anthony pushed away the laptop in front of him. "I’d rather be a supervillain than a fool manipulated by others."

Dean’s gaze, however, was already captured by the video on the computer.

This kind of gadget was still a rarity.

In the video, a loop of about ten seconds played:

A dim corridor. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

Seven FBI members, uniformed and with headsets, stood guard at various checkpoints.

A dark figure flashed across the screen.

The next moment.

Two bursts of gunfire flickered past.

The front four didn’t even have a chance to react. They were all shot in the head and killed instantly.

Before the remaining three could pinpoint the intruder’s location, the shadow flicked its left hand.

The three men, who were just taking turns covering each other’s advance, collapsed to the ground for no apparent reason, watching helplessly as a skinny figure draped in a black cloak and wearing a clown mask approached them and shot each one in the head!

The guards were wiped out.

The clown killer suddenly turned his head, arrogantly flashed a V sign at the camera, then raised his handgun...

BANG!

The video went black.

Dean’s eyes widened.

F*ck. Was it that fierce?

Although he had confidence in sweeping those seven FBI members with his Pistol Proficiency, he couldn’t do it as effortlessly as the figure on the screen.

The key question was, why did those last three fall to the ground suddenly?

Dean subconsciously put himself in the FBI agents’ shoes. Several simulations. In the end, he still shook his head.

Relying on his physical strength and Pistol Proficiency, he was only confident he could kill the opponent, but even his reaction speed couldn’t avoid their bullets.

Such a master. He hadn’t even qualified to meet one in his previous life.

"Who is he?" Dean couldn’t restrain his curiosity.

"North America’s third-ranked assassin, Clown V," Anthony said wearily. "The one who threatened the Truckers Union lawyer was just a minor leader from the Dagger Gang. We went to great lengths to pressure the Dagger Gang into handing him over, but V appeared before we could even question him."

Seven reserve agents were lost because of this.

Even Anthony now faced immense pressure.

"Is the lead gone?"

"Gone. After V killed my men, he shot the Dagger Gang leader dead. By the way..." Anthony seemed to remember something and looked at Dean. "I recall you have Chinese blood. Are you aware of the Silver Needle Hidden Weapon?"

"Hidden Weapon?" Dean exclaimed in surprise.

Of course, he knew! He didn’t just know of it; he was somewhat familiar with it.

In Dean’s past life, his skillful use of blades was learned from a disabled old man living in Southeast Asia.

According to the old man, because of the early years of war, many masters with true lineage had traveled overseas, scattering across the globe to survive.

From then on, Dean became deeply interested and even watched a match featuring an ethnic Chinese underground fighter, who was indeed exceptionally fierce.

Fists like hammers, feet like axes. With just a few punches and kicks, the fighter brutally battered a burly Russian opponent, shattering his ribs and snapping his neck on the spot.

What a pity. After the match, before Dean could even try to get acquainted, the fighter was riddled with bullets by gunmen hired by the Russian’s backers.

Since then, Dean had given up on learning hand-to-hand combat and devoted himself to mastering his shooting skills instead.

Alas, times have changed.

"Dean?"

Dean snapped back to reality. "I’ve heard my father mention it, but such methods seem to be seldom inherited these days. Moreover, they’re passed down within a single lineage and aren’t usually revealed publicly."

"Right, that’s pretty much what a few Los Angeles martial arts masters I consulted said," Anthony nodded, pointing to the screen. "See those last three men? Their necks were pierced by tiny, poisoned needles, causing them to lose control of their bodies."

Three needles in an instant.

Anthony shook his head.

According to our instruments, each needle flew out at nearly the speed of sound. How could a human hand make such light needles fly so fast and so accurately? It was simply incomprehensible.

Anthony pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at Dean seriously. "Alright, Dean. Last time, I mentioned I hoped you’d become my apprentice. Have you considered it?"

"Do I have to join the FBI?"

"No, that’s up to you," Anthony sighed.

"I am a member of the Commonwealth’s Akaz Academy Faction, specially hired by the FBI, and I mentor at least a dozen students each year.

"However, I currently have only two true apprentices.

"One of them serves in the Commonwealth’s MI6 and is the head of a department.

"The other used to be with me in the FBI.

"I devoted a lot of effort to him.

"But three years ago, he led his subordinates in investigating a ’purification game’ in New York involving the Lucifer Game Organization, and they were completely wiped out.

"I came out of semi-retirement and returned to the front lines, determined to destroy the Lucifer Game Organization!"

That sounds incredible!

Dean took a deep breath.

In his former life, he was, to put it bluntly, just mass-produced cannon fodder.

Anthony before him was undoubtedly the most impressive person he had ever encountered in either his past life or present.

What was this called? Opportunity!

Dean tried to calm himself and asked solemnly, "What would be required of me to become your apprentice?"

"Just be yourself," Anthony laughed heartily, his voice raspy like a hissing snake. "Don’t overthink it, Dean. I simply don’t want the name of the Akaz Academy to fade into oblivion. As for the Lucifer Game Organization, I’ll handle it. You don’t need to feel any pressure."

This good? Anthony’s apparent selflessness made Dean hesitate.

Seeing this, Anthony’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "Dean, someone approached me earlier to verify if you were truly my apprentice. You didn’t hesitate when you used my name for extortion, so why the concern now?"

Dean: "..."

It must have been Hutt, that fat black guy. Someday, he’d find a chance to take care of him!

Forget it. Since things have come to this point... what did he have to lose? Just his two-hundred-pound body.

"Alright, I agree," Dean bowed slightly. "Old man, congratulations, you’ve just gained an extremely excellent apprentice."

Anthony gave Dean a thumbs up. "I’m not sure about his other qualities yet, but at least he’s thick-skinned," he commented.

The two of them locked eyes and burst into hearty laughter together.

Once their master-apprentice relationship was established, Anthony’s gaze towards Dean softened considerably. "You must be wondering why I chose you when there are surely many others who seem more outstanding, right?"

Dean’s eyes widened.

He did indeed wonder about that.

"That used to be called the Mind Reading Technique; now it’s known as micro-expression and psychological analysis. I’ll teach you later."

Anthony stood up and packed up his laptop. "Let’s go. I didn’t get to teach you the third lesson last time. Now, I’ll show you how to legally and reasonably dispose of people you never want to see again!"

Dean eagerly took the laptop bag.

Mind Reading Technique, he wanted to learn that! He still had two unused Skill Points left!