North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 631 - 351 My Name is Qian Feng, Ethnic Chinese_1

End of call.

Dean gazed at the horizon where yellow and blue met, the sky at twilight. He silently relit his pipe and blew several smoke rings, allowing the jumbled thoughts in his heart to break free and churn in his mind.

He was feeling a bit conflicted now.

But not over Little Mike's matter.

In his previous life, he had been a sewer bug, living a life of drunken abandon, never contemplating spiritual pursuits like finding life's meaning or fulfilling lofty ambitions.

Principles were bullshit.

Apart from the little humanity he had left to serve as an anchor, things like responsibility were luxuries to him.

For the sake of his own safety, abandoning Little Mike was an all too normal choice for him.

To Dean, even if a nuclear attack really happened and all his official connections fell through, living off his girlfriend Nell's support wouldn't be too bad. He could live comfortably and perhaps even ensure his family had a decent life...

So by running away, the only one affected would be Little Mike.

A sickly kid whose life might not have more than half a year left.

While he himself, equipped with the Violent Detective System, had a warm family, a girlfriend who loved him, and some rather interesting friends. As long as he didn't court death, his future was destined to be happy and fulfilling.

Even the Lucifer Organization, a potential former threat, had already been destroyed.

Physiological needs, safety, love and belonging, esteem.

He now had everything he had never possessed in his last life.

So why choose to take a risk?

Dean had a clear understanding of himself: greedy, lecherous, selfish, a bully to the weak and a coward in front of the strong, petty...

Following his true nature.

He could live well.

Why should he, for the sake of an illusory promise, gamble with his life?

He was still young.

This was just a minor setback.

He still had countless opportunities to start over and slowly build things up again.

Running away now was, both emotionally and rationally, the best choice for Dean.

Again and again, he questioned himself.

Dean couldn't find any reason to take the risk.

But...

Why was his heart struggling this time, hesitating, constantly questioning himself, seeking a reason to flee?

Dean looked at his blood-stained hands, a puzzled expression in his eyes.

Since when do I need a reason to do things?

...

「The mansion, the balcony.」

Little Mike sat in his electric wheelchair, a blanket thoughtfully draped over him by the butler. His eyes, devoid of life, watched the flow of people on the distant street. Only when he saw children laughing and playing did an almost imperceptible flicker disturb his lifeless gaze.

BUZZ.

The slight vibrating noise interrupted Little Mike's thoughts.

He coughed lightly twice, then gently tapped a spot on his left. "What's up, Dean?"

"Sorry, I know you're tired, but I need your help now," Dean's faint voice came through the phone.

"What do you need me to do?"

Little Mike, as always, was brief and direct, with no hesitation or complaints.

Silence for a moment. Then, a light chuckle came through the phone. "I don't know if I've gone mad, but I still want to ask you: do you want to join me in trying to be a savior, just this once?"

"Hm?"

After a long pause, the call ended. Little Mike took one last look at the boisterous children playing in the street outside, then maneuvered his electric wheelchair to a large, floor-length mirror.

He pressed his almost skeletal face close to the mirror. The skin on his face twitched as he tried to form a strange expression. Finally, with the help of two fingers, it contorted into a very stiff smile.

「On another side.」

Dean hung up the phone. He exhaled a smoke ring, watching it rise slowly before his face, gradually dispersing and finally vanishing into the air. He grinned. "Damn it! A scumbag like me, the type to use someone and then act like I don't know them, has actually lost his mind today!"

People, huh... Once you develop feelings, you develop a sense of responsibility.

And with responsibility comes doing foolish things.

In this life, he didn't want to continue being a cold, unfeeling sewer vermin.

Dean tapped the ash from his pipe. He carefully stored the pipe Nell had given him into his storage space. After making separate calls to his girlfriend Nell, his mother, his sister, and his brother, he finally got into the car.

With the roar of the engine, this old clunker, which had accompanied Lawrence for many years, spewed black exhaust as it disappeared down the secluded path. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

...

「The college town, Underground Research Institute.」

The scene was somewhat bloody.

The researchers, who should have been working together, had split into several factions based on skin color and ethnicity, all because of a single sentence from the tall madman.

The white-skinned and black-skinned researchers distanced themselves from their yellow-skinned colleagues.

Among those with yellow skin, they further divided into several smaller groups based on their ethnicity (country of origin).

Among them, seven or eight figures in white coats, their faces smeared with fresh blood, lay motionless on the ground, staining the once-pristine floor with the chaotic aftermath of a brawl.

These unlucky ones hadn't died at the hands of the invading madman but had fallen to the fists and feet of colleagues with whom they once chatted, laughed, and got along harmoniously.

On the high platform, the tall man in work overalls and sunglasses watched everything unfold with great interest.

Only when the scene quieted down and everyone looked towards him, with expressions of either anticipation or dread, did he step forward with a grin. "Very good. Now, those of you originally from China, stand to the left. Everyone else, to the right."