The truck suddenly sped up and headed towards a small path.
Green saw this and let out a cold laugh.
He aimed at the target position and pressed a button.
a specially modified bullet shot out from the front of his vehicle, hitting right on top of the truck’s cargo container.
On the electronic map on his passenger side computer, a marked red dot appeared.
It was a tracking device, the latest equipment configured by the Los Angeles police.
The vehicle was locked on.
Green picked up the radio in the car, "This is B6 team Green, near 3607 Yulin Avenue, there’s a black truck with a white container, license plate number XXX, heading north in an escape, the vehicle has been marked, nearby units please start intercepting..."
several police cars cleared the road ahead and blocked off the segment.
The truck’s tires were punctured one after another by tire deflation devices the police had prepared in advance, causing it to roll over to the side of the road.
Faced with about a dozen officers aiming rifles at him, the truck driver was scared stiff. Disregarding the injuries on his body, he tumbled and crawled onto the open ground, laying flat on his stomach with his hands over his head and his legs voluntarily stacked together, showing he had no intention of resisting.
But not a single officer approached.
This was a lesson learned in blood.
Previously, when they assisted the NW operation team in making arrests, a madman appeared to surrender but was actually covered in detonators, pulling three officers with him to death in an explosion.
Since then, they had a common understanding: suspects apprehended by the NW team were likely to be lunatics, so shoot if you can instead of chitchatting.
Fortunately, Green’s vehicle also caught up.
As soon as the vehicle stopped,
the imposing figure Shi San directly opened the rear door, ignoring the driver lying on the ground, and went straight to the back of the truck. His dog claw nails turned pitch black and viciously scratched at the sealed lock.
sparks flew everywhere. f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m
The chain lock was forcibly cut off by Shi San with one slash.
under Green’s signal, the driver was frisked by a group of officers, and finally, handcuffed with specially made handcuffs and lifted from the ground.
It was a big-bearded man who looked to be in his thirties.
Green looked at him and took out a tablet, "Name!"
He said with a mournful face, "Gentlemen, my name is Dantai Lynn. I’m a dedicated truck driver for Meiyaja Medical. I haven’t engaged in any illegal activities..."
An officer took out his driving license from the driver and handed it to Green.
Comparing the civilian serial number on it, Green quickly verified that the driver’s identity was real.
Moreover, the driver did not reveal any special information, meaning his civilian information had not been entered into the Federation’s criminal information database, and he had no criminal record.
Then why was Shi San so agitated?
Green signaled the surrounding officers to search the driving cabin while he himself headed towards the rear of the truck.
Shi San had already opened the rear of the truck.
It turned out to be a modified refrigerated container.
As the door opened, a faint burnt smell wafted out.
Green climbed into the container, switched on a flashlight, and found it didn’t contain Brian’s boss’s motorcycle, but rather a large number of stacked cube plastic boxes.
There were probably a hundred or so.
Inside each cube plastic box were black bags.
Touching them, Green felt they contained some kind of grainy powder. .com
He looked at Shi San, "Shi San, what did you smell?"
Shi San looked disdainfully at Green, "Can’t you smell it? It’s Bone Powder, roasted Bone Powder."
He thought it was drugs or something.
Shi San nodded, "Yes, all human bone fragments..."
Hearing this, Green was stunned.
He scanned the large container, "You’re saying, all these boxes, they’re filled with human bones?"
This is a major case!
"Why haven’t Shi San and the others come back yet?"
Brian glanced at the time, shook his head, and refocused on the whiteboard in front of him. f|re(e)web.n\ovel. (c)o.m
The board was covered in sketches held up by magnets.
These sketches were arranged messily, eventually forming a huge pattern.
But the pattern was no longer a landscape painting but a character.
A character from Hua Country!
Brian, with his left arm across his chest and his right hand stroking his chin, mumbled, "Cha? What does this mean?"
If what old Hardenn provided, the Curse Pattern, was indeed ’Long’s’ relic, then it meant the landscape painting was also by Long.
What did it mean for someone to use this painting and secretly hide a ’Cha’ character in it?
A homeless man sleeping on the ground suddenly opened his eyes at the moment Brian cracked the landscape painting, looking in the direction of Los Angeles. He then smiled, "Decoded?"
he slowly stood up, his figure flickering, as he vanished from the area.