Robbery and Murder Department, First Squad.

Nine o'clock in the morning.

Luke walked into the office and saw everyone gathered together, excitedly discussing something.

"Hey, guys, what did I miss?"

"No, you're just in time." The guy nicknamed Little Black waved, "Come on over, our custom revolvers are back, super cool."

Luke walked over and asked, "Is there one for me?"

"Of course, everyone has one." Little Black shook the revolver in his hand and blew a puff of air over the muzzle.

The revolver was sleek, with a silver barrel, a wooden grip, and a matching holster.

On the table were eight exquisite wooden boxes, some opened, some not. The deputy pushed an unopened box to Luke, "Captain, this one's yours."

"Thanks." Luke opened the box, inside was a silver revolver, holster, weighted well in the hand, meticulously crafted, with a great grip, "This revolver is nice, I like it."

When Luke was preparing to change his firearm, he considered getting a large-caliber revolver, but after careful thought, he ultimately chose the Night Hawk 1911.

The advantages of the revolver are obvious, but so are the drawbacks, not only is ammunition capacity limited, but changing bullets is cumbersome, unlike a pistol that can directly swap magazines.

Secondly, the airtightness is poor, there's a gap between the barrel and the cylinder, causing smoke and air leakage during firing.

Nevertheless, as a collector's item, the revolver is still quite good.

Luke played with it for a moment, then placed it back into the box, intending to store it in the new home's weaponry collection.

The deputy looked at Luke and pointed to the gun on his belt, "Speaking of custom... is the gun you're carrying a custom Night Hawk 1911?"

"Yes, finally someone noticed I changed guns." Luke smiled. After retrieving the 1911 from the Night Hawk gun store, Luke got familiar with it for a while, only officially switching it a few days ago to make it his main weapon.

The deputy showed a look of envy, "I've always wanted a custom 1911, but never had a chance to go to Arkansas. Did you customize it recently?"

Luke explained, "No no, Night Hawk Company also has a branch in Los Angeles, you can customize it there, and once it's made in Arkansas, it will be mailed to Los Angeles.

If there are no special requirements, it only takes about a week, very convenient."

The deputy became more interested and rubbed his hands, "Can I have a look?"

"Under normal circumstances, no, but... today is an exception." Luke took the Night Hawk 1911 from his holster and handed it to the deputy.

Raymond also came over, "Let me see it too."

"Of course, if everyone is interested, but only today, no..." Luke glanced at his watch, "Only for twenty minutes."

It's not that Luke is stingy, guns are the lifeblood for officers protecting themselves, unless it's someone very close, otherwise don't even think about touching it, let alone looking at it.

This Night Hawk 1911 is too classic, it's a dream for many men, which is why the deputy and Raymond wanted to see Luke's gun, otherwise they wouldn't have made such a request.

As for why they don't buy one themselves, mainly because a custom Night Hawk 1911 is quite expensive.

At some point, Reid walked into the office and asked everyone, "Guys, are you satisfied with the custom revolvers?"

The deputy shrugged, "Craftsmanship is okay, but I still prefer the Night Hawk 1911."

Reid was a little surprised, "Deputy, is this your new gun?"

"I wish." The deputy sighed and reluctantly returned the Night Hawk 1911 to Luke.

Reid patted Luke on the shoulder, "This gun is nice, suits you well."

Luke wiped the handgun with a piece of khaki cloth, then put it back into the holster, "Chief, coming here so early, it wouldn't be just about guns, would it?"

"You're right, there's a new case.

Guys, we have work to do."

...

Tarip Community.

A two-story grey villa was cordoned off, surrounded by four police cars, with several patrol officers maintaining order.

A black SUV slowly parked by the roadside, Luke got off from the passenger seat, instinctively surveying the surroundings, clipped his police badge to his chest, and walked towards the grey villa.

Just as he reached the vicinity of the cordon, a young white police officer proactively greeted him, "Sir, I heard the Robbery and Murder Department was taking over the case, didn't expect it to be you."

Luke looked at the young white officer, "Do we know each other?"

The white officer was a bit shy, "No, I've just seen you on TV, I know those big cases you've cracked, super impressive, you're my idol."

"Thank you." Luke gave a polite smile, "Buddy, what's your name?"

"I'm Jamie Reagan, an officer at Central Division."

"Nice to meet you, Jamie, can you tell me about the scene?"

"My pleasure." Jamie Reagan organized his words, "At eight thirty this morning, my partner and I were patrolling nearby, received a dispatch saying a resident found a deceased person in their home, so we arrived immediately for a check.

In the first-floor bedroom of the house indeed lies a deceased male, then we reported to the dispatch."

"Who reported it?"

"Clint Mann, he's the homeowner, just sitting in the yard." Jamie Reagan pointed to a middle-aged man sitting in the yard.

"OK, I'll go chat with him, see you in a bit, Jimmy."

"Yes, sir."

Luke entered the yard, sizing up Clint Mann.

He's a white man, around thirty-something, looking somewhat fatigued, "Mr. Clint Mann."

The man stood up and looked at Luke, "Yeah, it's me."

"My name is Luke Lee, captain of the Robbery and Murder Department. I'm responsible for investigating this case."

Clint Mann asked, "Sir, when can the body be removed? I really can't accept...

there's a stranger's corpse in our house."

"No need to worry, the forensic doctor is already on site, the body will be handled soon." Luke reassured, then asked, "Do you know the deceased?"

"No, not at all."

"Why did the body appear in your home then?"

"I don't know either. My family and I went on a trip, returned to Los Angeles on a flight last night, and only returned home this morning... and found the body."

"What time did you discover the body exactly?"

"It was around 8:20, then I called the police."

"Who else was present at the time?"

"My family was there.

We noticed things in the living room had been moved when we got home. I thought there might have been a thief, so I checked other rooms and found a man lying on the bed in the downstairs bedroom. His face didn't look right, and he didn't respond when I called out. I didn't dare get too close... so I quickly called the police."

"Who are your family members? Where did they go?"

"My wife, son, and daughter.

I was worried they'd be scared, so I let them stay with the neighbors to rest," Clint Mann pointed to a villa diagonally opposite.

Luke called Jenny over to take statements from Clint Mann's family members, then continued questioning Clint Mann, "Where did you go for your trip, and for how many days?"

"We joined the West Travel Agency's one-week tour of Guam, left on July 3rd, and today is the 10th."

"Who knew you would be traveling?"

"A lot of people knew—our relatives, friends, neighbors. We even sent our dog to a pet boarding center, planning to pick it up after dropping off our luggage. Now... we'll have to wait a bit longer.

Sir, I hope you can have the body removed as soon as possible."

"We will." Luke jotted down some notes and asked, "Do your family members know the deceased?"

Clint Mann shook his head, "No, they don't."

Luke pressed further, "They don't know him or haven't identified him?"

"My son is only ten, and my daughter is just eight. I can't let them see a corpse. That would be too terrifying."

"I understand, but this person died in your home. It's possible someone in your family might recognize him. As part of the investigation process, we need to have your family identify him." Seeing no objection, Luke continued, "We won't have the kids identify the body directly, just the deceased's photos when he was alive."

Clint Mann nodded, "OK, I'll... talk to them about it."

"By the way, have you lost any valuables from your home?"

"No."

"Has there been any illegal entry in the past?"

"No."

"Before the trip, did you notice anything unusual or see any suspicious individuals?"

"No, nothing comes to mind."

Luke nodded and directed the deputy, "Deputy, take some officers to visit the neighbors and see if any strangers came around while the homeowners were traveling."

"Port, come with me." The deputy called out and brought several patrol officers to canvass the neighborhood.

Meanwhile, Luke entered the house to investigate. Near the entryway, there was a pair of men's leather shoes beside the cabinet. The living room was relatively tidy, with a used coffee cup and a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table.

Next, Luke entered a small bedroom on the ground floor. Directly facing the door was a 1.5-meter-wide bed, on which lay a Caucasian man dressed in trousers and a shirt, his complexion pale, foam at the mouth, eyes wide open.

No obvious bloodstains or signs of struggle were found.

Nearby, Little He was wearing gloves and holding a black Apple phone, browsing through it, "Captain, I found a phone by the bed, likely the victim's. The phone wasn't password-protected, and it contains lots of photos of this house."

Jackson leaned in to take a look, "There really are a lot of photos of the house. Why would he do that? Was he planning to send them to someone like they were showcasing a product?"

Little He shook his head, "Don't be silly. The homeowners just went on a trip, they're not deceased. This house isn't an abandoned property."

Jackson countered, "Then why do you think the deceased took photos of the house?"

Little He scrutinized the photos, "These photos were taken without any focus, and nothing important is visible. I feel...

the deceased was probably documenting the layout of items in the rooms so that when he left, things would be returned to their original positions, and the homeowners wouldn't know anyone had been here."

Jackson was a bit surprised, "That seems quite reasonable. How do you know that?"

Little He shrugged, "I grew up in a poor neighborhood where people come up with all sorts of ways to survive. Some people are moneyless and homeless and temporarily stay in homes that aren't occupied by anyone.

It's a survival technique for them."

Luke asked, "How do they know if a house is occupied? Aren't they worried about getting caught by the homeowners?"

Little He explained, "It's simple. For example, some families subscribe to milk or newspapers regularly. If they travel or go on business trips, they typically cancel the subscriptions temporarily.

They'll tidy up the house and leave in advance before the homeowners return."

Jackson sneered, "What does that make them, polite squatters?"

"Ring ring..."

Suddenly, the deceased's phone rang, startling Little He, almost causing him to drop it.