Luke laughed, "I grew up in New York, but later my parents divorced.

I lived in Los Angeles for college, so it's hard to say where I'm from."

Louise smiled, "Then I think you're a New Yorker."

"No problem, whatever makes you happy."

"Have you thought about living in New York again?" Actually, Louise wanted to ask if he would officially join the FBI, but she didn't want to be too direct.

Luke deflected, "Are you planning to introduce me to a girlfriend?"

Seeing that Luke didn't want to answer directly, Louise didn't press further and laughed, "You don't seem like you're lacking a girlfriend."

"I'm too busy."

"I understand. If you didn't hustle, you wouldn't have achieved this much at such a young age.

What kind of girl do you like? I can introduce you if I know someone suitable."

Luke thought seriously for a moment, "Pretty, good figure, and if she's considerate, even better."

"Any requirements regarding personality or interests?"

"NO."

"Are you serious? I thought you'd like someone with depth, shared hobbies, and values."

"I'm looking for a girlfriend, not a female teacher.

I think the first impression is important, and the rest can develop over time.

If it's not a fit, we can just be friends."

In Louise's experience, men who only focus on a woman's appearance and not her character or inner qualities are either very superficial or haven't settled down yet.

She hadn't known Luke for long, but she sensed that he wasn't the former, so it must be the latter.

Louise didn't think there was anything wrong with that; at Luke's age, enjoying life is normal. Her brother had similar thoughts and often asked her to introduce pretty girls.

Louise would usually just tell him to get lost.

"Louise, what do you usually do at work?"

"External liaison work.

For example, coordinating with local police at crime scenes, victim families, and occasionally acting as a spokesperson."

"Does that include me?"

"NO, you're one of us.

I'm just curious about you and volunteered to partner with you."

"Your work is very important."

"That's what I think too."

Luke wasn't just being polite; the FBI's jurisdiction is much broader than the LAPD's and frequently requires coordinating and communicating with various departments. It's not an easy job.

Many police officers have some resistance to the FBI, and effective liaison becomes crucial. If the communication is good, the FBI and police can collaborate closely to solve cases.

Conversely, if the FBI and police have conflicts and are not on the same page, the case could be botched.

During the conversation, the car drove into Mario's neighborhood and stopped beside a white villa.

This community is located on the outskirts of New York. Although it's far from the city center, the villas have large areas, and each has its own yard.

Luke, leading a few FBI agents, entered the yard, scanning the surroundings. The house door and garage door were shut tight.

He went to the window to check, slightly frowned, took out his gun, and made a hand gesture. Louise also came over to inspect.

The two exchanged a few whispers, then called over several agents to discuss. Subsequently, a few agents walked to the sides of the door, and one used a battering ram to break it open.

"Bang!"

"FBI!"

"Cough, cough..." An FBI agent who just rushed inside started coughing and retching.

A strong stench of decay wafted out from inside the house.

The odor was as potent as a chemical weapon, capable of overwhelming a person if exposed for a while. Luke thought it was unlikely there were any living people inside.

"Retreat!"

Luke barked the order, instructing the agents to move to a safer distance.

Louise said to two agents, "Open the back door too, let the air out.

The others keep watch around to prevent anyone from escaping the villa."

Luke joked, "Even if someone escapes, it won't be hard to notice; you can smell them from meters away."

Louise rolled her eyes, "Oh God, I really don't want to go inside that house.

I should be going after Zheng Lagong, not here."

"Haha." Luke glanced at his watch, "Thanks for the reminder, I think I'm almost off the clock."

"No, we need you here."

To ventilate the place quickly, an FBI agent wearing protective gear entered the house to open all windows and doors.

After more than half an hour, the odor had dissipated substantially. Only then did Luke, masked up, enter the villa to investigate.

The living room was scattered with dry bloodstains, and a decaying, mangled body was tied to a radiator.

The body had been severely beaten on the head and face, and due to the decomposition and disfigurement, the original appearance was unrecognizable.

The body was unclothed except for a pair of pants, and the fingers were deformed from being beaten, obscuring the fingerprints.

Luke searched around the body but found no identification documents (including but not limited to a driver's license, social security card), only determining that it was an Asian male.

Louise came over and frowned, "Do you think this could be Zhou Tiansheng's body?"

Luke shook his head slightly, unwilling to make a hasty judgment.

"Let's wait for the DNA identification results."

He had only seen Zhou Tiansheng's photos, never the person himself. The body's destruction and decay made it almost impossible to identify, "However, judging by the wounds, he was tortured before death, possibly interrogated like Ma Jiansheng."

Louise said, "Based on clues from the intelligence department, he could be either Zhou Tiansheng or Song Jinbao.

If the body is Song Jinbao, the killer was likely interrogating him for Zhou Tiansheng's whereabouts.

If the body is Zhou Tiansheng, the killer might have been after his assets."

Luke agreed with this analysis. With the body so decomposed, there were few clues. He turned to inspect other areas.

The room showed signs of being searched, as if the killer was looking for something.

The dining room was also in disorder, with some leftover dishes on the table, not on plates but in plastic containers. There were no signs of cooking in the kitchen, suggesting they might have been takeout.

Luke examined the dishes closely, faintly identifying them as roasted pigeon, steamed grouper, white-cut chicken, poached greens, and clay pot rice.

The meal was typical Cantonese cuisine, but there were no visible restaurant logos on the containers, nor any takeout bags.

If it was takeout, the delivery person likely saw the deceased, which could help confirm the identity.

Luke took out his phone, opened a food delivery app, and searched for Cantonese cuisine.

To Luke's surprise, there were no Cantonese restaurants nearby, not even Chinese restaurants.

This area is on the outskirts, far from Chinatown, and there are few Cantonese eateries elsewhere, while Chinatown restaurants are outside the delivery radius.

Luke looked again at the dishes on the table, feeling a sense of déjà vu, especially with the containers, which he recognized.

Yesterday, Luke dined at the Cantonese Delight Restaurant, ordering the same dishes. Additionally, when leaving, he packed some roasted pigeon for his father, using the same type of container as those on the table.

Is it a coincidence?

Or was it takeout from Cantonese Delight Restaurant?

Or perhaps the deceased visited the restaurant?