CHAPTER 276: CHAPTER 183 AN BEI NEARLY KILLED BY STRAY BULLETS (COMBINED CHAPTER) _1

"Demons, never dying?"

Upon hearing this, Dean smiled silently.

He turned to Portolia, whose complexion was pale with a hint of pink, "You and Merck can discuss how to deal with your cousin. I’m off work."

Now that he knew where the cannibal Demon was hiding, it was best to act quickly and secure the target, lest Merck and his unreliable FBI partner alert the Demon and cause it to flee again.

Portolia clearly didn’t want to let Dean off so easily.

She grabbed Dean’s right hand, "Detective Dean, my son’s birthday is in a few days. Would you come to the party?"

Dean refused outright, "Sorry, I’ve got quite a bit on my plate recently..."

"Is it because I have a child?"

"Or is it because I’m of Japanese descent, which makes you, Detective Dean with Chinese blood, dislike me?"

Seeing her straightforwardness, Dean didn’t bother to be polite. He nodded, turned around, and left.

He wasn’t lacking for women. There was no need to get entangled with a widow for a moment’s pleasure.

Watching his retreating figure, Portolia’s eyes showed disappointment. She sighed inwardly, Dean, I really wanted to date you, but since you’re unwilling to give Lia a chance, I’ll have to use you for a promotion.

Beauty and charm were her greatest assets. But if they were useless, then she would maximize her benefits.

She leaned against the cold wall, expressionlessly watching her cousin inside the interrogation room. Hidden within her sleeves, a cold glint emanated from between her delicate, boneless-seeming fingers, hinting at a deadly intent!

...

After leaving the detective bureau, Dean first called his mother to tell her he wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Then, he drove to a hotel, booked a room, and began studying the Los Angeles map he had brought from his car.

According to Yamaguchi Yuko, she hadn’t made direct contact with the cannibal Demon but had placed it at her estate at Number Thirty-four, Blum Town.

These types of small-town estates were similar to the residence of the priest Dean had killed before.

However, considering Yamaguchi Yuko was still underage, even if her family had gifted her assets, they were unlikely to be overly expensive.

So Dean guessed the place was probably a resort-like mountainous area, with not many people living nearby.

He turned on his laptop and searched for "Blum Town estate." He found it was located over forty miles from downtown Los Angeles. While not excessively far, a nearby basin attracted many mosquitoes, making it quite a secluded area.

After packing his belongings, Dean cleared his search history, stepped out of the room, and quietly exited the hotel through the emergency exit.

Not far from the hotel was one of his safe houses.

It contained unregistered firearms and some useful gadgets.

Dean was already intimately familiar with the surrounding environment.

In the darkness, he moved swiftly through various surveillance blind spots, effortlessly climbed over the community’s high perimeter fence, and made his way toward his safe house.

Suddenly, a chill arose in his heart.

Without the slightest hesitation, Dean’s figure flashed. Not caring how foolish he might look, the instant he darted into an access passage, he leaped three meters, using the wall to propel himself to the upper level.

While he was mid-air, BANG! BANG! BANG! The gunfire in the dead-silent night was deafening.

Over a dozen bullets instantly riddled the spot Dean had just vacated, the source of his premonition. They shredded the nearby bushes and dry branches, sending splinters flying with sharp CRACKS.

Just as Dean landed, changed magazines, and took cover behind a concrete planter, ready to continue suppressive fire, a strained, trembling voice, thick with repressed pain, called out from the area he had just sprayed with bullets, "Fuck, it’s me!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Dean’s finger, which was about to pull the trigger, froze.

Hidden behind the planter, his ears twitched. He asked in surprise, "Anbei?"

"It’s me!"

"You maniac, you almost killed me!"

Anbei lay on the ground, gasping for air, still terrified.

It had been terrifying. He had only wanted to startle Dean.

But before he could make a move, more than a dozen bullets whizzed his way, giving him a rude baptism.

Even though Anbei’s reactions were far quicker than an ordinary person’s and he had executed evasive maneuvers, four bullets still struck his chest.

If he hadn’t been wearing a bulletproof vest, and if he hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid a headshot, he would have met Satan by now.

Even so, having taken the close-range impact of four large-caliber, steel-core bullets, Anbei was in agony.

He didn’t even dare to get up, fearing his broken ribs would pierce his internal organs.

That would be too wretched a way to die.

Confirming it was Anbei, Dean still didn’t relax his guard in the slightest.

While Anbei was responding, Dean silently circled around behind him. Only after confirming under the moonlight that Anbei, lying on the ground, had no strength to resist, did Dean stride over.

He squatted down before Anbei with interest, pressed his chest, and whistled. "You’re lucky you were wearing a bulletproof vest."

Thanks to the bulletproof vest’s protection, Anbei had only suffered injuries to his chest and ribs, rather than being riddled with bloody holes.

"Shitty luck!"

Anbei lay on the ground and rolled his eyes, "How did you spot me?"

"Guess?"

Dean didn’t waste time. After quickly clearing the scene, he grabbed Anbei and strode towards his safe house.

Although the surroundings had fallen into dead silence after the gunfire ceased, with not a single resident even turning on a light, Dean was certain someone must have already called the police.

Not long after they left, the wail of police sirens rose from the streets outside...

...

While the patrol officers were diligently and cautiously searching the fence area of the community for potential victims of a deadly robbery, and for any gunmen not yet departed.