North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 75 - 73 Training the Little Brother, Upgrading Again (Please Follow)_1

Chapter 75: Chapter 73 Training the Little Brother, Upgrading Again (Please Follow)_1

His kid brother, Thompson, sat on a park bench holding a hand-drawn doll mask, staring blankly into space. He had the distinct look of a guy who’d been thoroughly devastated by love.

They really were brothers.

His own meal ticket had been snatched away, lock, stock, and barrel.

It looked like his kid brother had also been dumped, huh.

Amused, Dean walked over and patted Thompson on the shoulder. "Buddy, are you trying to act out a ’heartbroken man’ scene here?"

Thompson didn’t even look up. "Is it that obvious?" he mumbled, his voice lacking energy. "Guess I’ll have to stay out here a bit longer before I head back."

"Alright, as the smartest member of our family, your current act tells me your girlfriend must have been stolen by someone else."

Dean sympathetically wrapped an arm around Thompson’s shoulder.

Was this his own bad karma coming back to haunt his kid brother?

"Susan isn’t my girlfriend! We just went on one date!" Thompson exclaimed, irritably brushing Dean’s hand away before slumping again. "But she has been seeing a football player lately. I’m just good at studying; I can’t compete with him."

"Haven’t you considered why?" Dean asked, effortlessly lifting the scrawny Thompson. "Men are inherently driven by lust, and women are inherently attracted to strength—it’s hardwired into our genes. Come on, I’ll show you how to pick up girls."

"Put me down, Dean! You’re making me look pathetic!" Thompson protested, noticing the glances from passersby and slapping at Dean’s legs in embarrassed anger.

Dean remained unfazed.

His struggles were like a faint tickle.

Worried about losing face? If you want to pick up girls, you gotta be bold, observant, and shameless.

Thompson was somewhat quiet and brooding, secretly mischievous, and also thin-skinned. With that kind of personality, he can’t make it as a good guy, nor can he get ahead as a bad one. He has to change!

Towing Thompson, Dean noticed a girl in hip-hop attire clumsily handling a skateboard. He set Thompson down, pointed at her, and said, "Kid bro, watch this. I’ll get her phone number in under a minute."

Thompson glanced at his older brother’s handsome face and shrugged wearily. "Dean, I know you’re good-looking, but everyone’s experiences are different. I can’t rely on my looks to get by."

"But the principle is the same. No matter what method you use, you first need to get her attention. Only then can a story unfold."

With that, Dean took the hand-drawn doll mask from Thompson’s hand, put it on, then fished out a coin and sauntered over.

The girl was engrossed in her skateboarding and didn’t notice someone had suddenly appeared in front of her.

The next moment, the hip-hop girl collided with Dean, who had intentionally set up the ’accident.’

Dean quickly steadied her, then complained, "Hey, do you think this is your backyard? You made me lose the lucky coin my grandma gave me!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry... Ha!" The girl had indeed heard a coin clatter and apologized profusely. But when she looked up and saw the mask on Dean’s face, she was so startled she forgot what she was about to say.

"I don’t want an apology! I just want to find my lucky coin. It’s the only thing my grandma left me!" Dean said, his voice growing more aggrieved. He then pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. "Oh my God! I have to go confess to the goddess I’ve secretly loved for ten years! She’s leaving Los Angeles tonight, but my grandma’s lucky coin..."

"I’m really sorry, sir. How about this: you leave your contact information and go make your confession. I’ll look for the coin here, and if I find it, I’ll call you." The girl, despite her trendy and individualistic style, actually had a very kind personality and obediently followed Dean’s lead.

Dean smoothly pulled out his phone. "Alright, I guess that’s the only way. Tell me your number, and I’ll call you. I just hope losing my lucky coin doesn’t ruin my confession."

While getting her number, Dean also planted a hook. Whether or not she found that old coin, he now had an excuse for a follow-up meeting.

Thompson watched his older brother’s entire performance, dumbfounded. Completely shameless!

After successfully handling the girl, Dean beckoned to Thompson and then headed home.

Thompson quickly caught up. "Bro, I get it! But what if she doesn’t suggest it? Or what if you suggest it, and she just blows you off?"

"You idiot!" Dean rolled his eyes. "If one doesn’t work, you move on to the next. If you approach enough of them, one is bound to work out.

"Once you succeed, figure out her personality type. All women possess an innate compassion.

"For the kind-hearted ones, make them feel guilty. For the exceptional ones, you act a little rebellious; it makes them want to change you. As for the vain ones, you’ll need to..."

Dean tirelessly instructed his kid brother in his secret techniques for wooing girls.

By the time they got home, all traces of sadness had vanished from Thompson’s face. He was completely engrossed in studying the techniques Dean had imparted.

Tsk, another player is about to be unleashed upon the world, Dean mused, a sense of satisfaction from imparting his wisdom warming him as he lounged comfortably on the sofa.

Now, he just had to wait for the System to deliver the good news. Life was good.

「...」

Every time Dean came home, his mom, Sheila, would always prepare pan-fried bacon.

This time was no exception.

These small details deeply touched Dean, who had lacked affection in his previous life, bringing him immense comfort. His once restless heart gradually found peace.

After dinner, Sinclair commandeered the television.

It was now November. Christmas was approaching.

To keep advertisers who had invested heavily happy, television stations often invited popular celebrities for interviews and performances, satisfying the curiosity of audiences and fans alike.

Sinclair and Sheila were hooked on a talk show featuring a sharp-tongued political celebrity.

Dean wasn’t interested in such things. He curled up on the sofa, dozing off.

Thompson was just as absorbed, a small notebook in hand, scribbling away. He’d occasionally flash a sly, knowing grin, then furtively peek around, looking exactly like a young monkey feeling its first hormonal stirrings.

His mom, Sheila, sat on the cashmere carpet with her arm around Sinclair. The mother and daughter watched the talk show, bursting into hearty laughter from time to time.

Excluding their eldest brother, who was out gallivanting, and their deceased father, the home felt particularly warm and cozy at that moment.

As he drifted in and out of sleep, a message finally flashed through Dean’s mind:

*Indirectly killed all culprits. Religious Ethics case solved. Experience Points +1,200.*

*Congratulations on leveling up! L5 → L7. Attribute Points +2, Skill Points +2.*

Dean’s eyes snapped open.

He had leveled up!

Leveling from five to six required 800 Experience Points, and from six to seven required 1,000. The required Experience Points consistently increased by 200 for each subsequent level.

Dean had gained 600 Experience Points on his way to Del Rio. Adding these 1,200 points meant he had jumped two levels!

He glanced at the wall clock; it was the early hours of the morning. His mom and the others had already gone to bed. He also noticed an extra blanket draped over him.

It seemed Marcus, taking advantage of the darkness, had followed his suggestion and hanged himself from the rafters of the Arkansas Christian Cathedral.

Tomorrow’s headlines were set. But that had nothing to do with him. He could now power himself up again!