Dean said, "Oh, I’ve already cracked the case. You and Robert can go back. No need to investigate anymore. Before the end of the workday, the murderer will come forward to confess."
"...Alright, I got it."
On the other end of the phone, Harry glanced up at the sky and silently hung up.
If anyone but Dean had said this, he would have thought the person was talking nonsense in broad daylight!
The sun was well up in the sky. The dark clouds over Los Angeles had finally dispersed. Sunlight streamed through the clouds, bathing the master bedroom of the luxurious hotel suite in golden brilliance.
Dean lay in bed, his face contorting with changing expressions—some fierce, some tranquil—as if he were enduring a terrible nightmare. His strong hand gripped the bedsheet, as if he was trying to withstand some unbearable pain.
After a stifled sob, his elder sister Dora covered her mouth and backed away, while his younger sister Wemi eagerly took her place.
A pleasant day. It began with the female captains sounding the charge.
Just then, the clamorous ring of the phone shattered the room’s rosy atmosphere.
Dean opened his eyes and frowned, picking up the cell phone on the bedside table. His frown eased when he saw the caller ID. He answered the phone with enthusiasm, "Hey Ross, I’m glad you’re calling me. It seems like you’ve moved on from the shadow of last time’s incident."
"Yes, but I’ve encountered something even more unpleasant." Ross’s voice sounded dejected, and there was a sob in his tone. "FK, that bitch Laura, she actually got together with my brother!"
WHOA. The big sucker has noticed something’s wrong. But a pure-hearted, rich second-generation guy like Ross, who cries after being cuckolded, is indeed rare.
Out of humanitarian spirit, Dean consoled him, "Ross, I’m not good at comforting people, but if you need to talk, we can go for a drink tonight. I should make a decent listener."
"No need, it’s just a woman." After sniffing twice and lowering his voice, Ross continued, "I actually didn’t want to bother you when I’m in such a disheveled state, but I have an urgent matter for you. If possible, could you come over to my place right now?"
Dean looked up to see Wemi wrestling with his ’big brother,’ and with an apologetic tone, he replied,
"Ross, although I’d really like to come over right now.
"My good brother is fighting.
"He doesn’t seem to be in a good state; I need to watch over him.
"How about this, Ross? You can tell me what’s happening, and once I take care of my brother’s situation, I’ll come over."
"You’re really good to your brother." There was admiration and envy in Ross’s tone. "If only I had a brother as good as you."
Dean is so good to his brother. But his brother... Maybe it’s better not to discuss that.
Wiping away his tears, Ross continued, "The matter isn’t convenient to discuss over the phone, and I don’t have many outsiders I trust now. If possible, please come over as soon as you can. The reward will definitely satisfy you."
With nothing else pressing, Dean agreed.
After hanging up the phone, Dean got out of bed, fit his ’lance’ into a sturdy sheath, launched a counter-charge, and made the enemy capitulate, begging for mercy again and again.
After a fierce battle, it finally came to an end as noon approached.
Dean looked at the two sisters sprawled out like dead pigs, ordered them dinner, and with the joy of victory, drove to Ross’s mansion in Los Angeles.
The Experience Points from the Camille and Yang Di cases had been credited to his account, a combined total of just eight hundred. He was still one thousand three hundred Experience Points short of leveling up.
Dean was actually looking forward to a surprise waiting for him at Ross’s.