Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

The black police officer quickly started the car, saying, "Are there still few people seeking death now?"

The patrol car lit up its siren and flashing lights and gave chase.

As the two cars neared, the white police officer took out the loudspeaker and said, "The black Buick ahead, you are speeding. Stop immediately for an inspection."

However, the black Buick in front showed no intention of slowing down. At the intersection ahead the car didn't just fail to slow, it sped up even more.

The white officer stayed in contact with the control desk, turning to his black colleague, "We must stop it quickly; past the intersection, there's a crowd of protesters, and it could be dangerous."

The black officer replied, "Do you think I don't know that? But the car ahead is going too fast; it's hard to cut it off. Forcing it to stop could also be dangerous."

The white officer, gripping the handle with his right hand, said, "Looks like the Buick is going to run the light."

The black officer complained, "Once we catch this bastard, he's going to pay."

"Bang!"

Under their watch, the black Buick that ran the red light scraped against a white BMW that was driving normally.

The front of the white BMW scraped the rear of the black Buick. Fortunately, the BMW braked in time, so the damage was not severe.

The black Buick, having been hit, veered off course, knocked over a trash can, and cracked its windshield, but luckily the glass didn't shatter completely.

Surprisingly, the black Buick did not stop, and it continued to surge forward lurchingly, as if the driver was drunk.

The patrol car pursued relentlessly from behind. The black officer said, "From my experience, this is definitely a big fish."

"Could it be another idiot high on drugs, totally spaced out?" the white officer said, and then his face turned pale as he saw the protesting crowd up ahead.

"George, the hero!"

"Punish the murderer harshly!"

"We want 'freedom to breathe'!"

...

Compared to two days earlier, the crowd of protesters had clearly grown much larger and more united.

Their slogans were louder and clearer.

Their main protesting locations were key intersections, police stations, and the city hall; they didn't care about causing traffic jams at all.

Protesting was their right.

This was how they intended to fight for their freedom, benefits, and equality.

However, just then, a Buick raced in, heading directly towards the crowd...

"Ah..."

The car, like a mad bull, charged and overturned many people.

Eventually, it hit a utility pole and stopped.

"Ah..."

"Ooh..."

"I @#￥%..."

Screams, cries, reprimands, and curses filled the air.

Many people in the crowd were injured.

More people gathered, some to help the wounded.

And an angry crowd surrounded the car, ready to severely teach the driver a lesson.

A few young black men were particularly furious, as the organizer of the protest march had also been hit by the car; they thought this might well have been a malicious act by the police or a white organization to stop the protests.

One enraged young black man forcefully pulled open the driver's door, ready to drag out the driver and give him a severe beating.

However, when he opened the door, he was completely stunned.

The driver turned out to be a little boy around ten years old, his small body sitting in the driver's seat, barely peering over the dashboard.

"Fuck!" The driver was just a little black kid.

The group of angry young black men suddenly felt like they were hitting cotton with their fists.

But the young black men still rescued the little black boy from the car and pushed him to the ground.

"Ooh..." just then, cries arose from the rear seat of the car.

There, a little girl about six or seven years old sat in the back, crying profusely, "Brother, I'm scared, don't hurt my brother.

I want my mommy..."

Soon, several police cars arrived, and fully armed officers got out to try to control the situation.

Although there were many protesters, no one dared to confront the armed police head-on.

If a clash happened, and you hurt the LAPD, then you were done for.

LAPD felt threatened and had a reason to open fire, and they certainly didn't hold back.

The protesters moved aside as LAPD took over the scene.

An ambulance arrived to treat the injured victims.

...

A black Mercedes G500 drove along the road.

Luke was driving while Xiaohei sat in the passenger seat, zoning out and occasionally sighing.

Luke glanced at him, "Didn't you say you had something to tell me? What is it?"

"Last night, Pari came to me seeking forgiveness. Isn't that funny?"

"She's quite prominent now, her reputation has soared. I heard quite a few TV stations are digging for her."

Hearing this, I suddenly didn't feel so guilty anymore.

Luke smiled, "You shouldn't feel guilty in the first place. Not all journalists care about the truth of the news.

For some of them, as long as the news has appeal and is trending, they can gain enough benefits.

Pari is a smart woman, she won't be at a loss."

"I've made up my mind to break up with her.

Having realized that, I'm not as heartbroken. What worries me now is how to face Julian.

She's the real trouble."

"You should talk to her. Maybe she's just put on weight, and all your worries and angst would seem quite silly then.

Besides, if Julian is really pregnant, you can't avoid her forever.

It's much better to communicate with her now rather than end up on the Mori Show later."

"Don't mention that show again; I hate it."

"You used to love it, you said it was one of your favorite shows."

"Right, I used to enjoy watching others' drama…"

Xiaohei sighed, pointing ahead, "Whoa, looks like there's trouble up there, seems like a protest has blocked the road."

Luke drove further and saw a mass of police cars and ambulances, apparently someone in the protest crowd was injured.

Luke had no particular fondness for these protesters, but he always paid close attention to them since they were targeting George, who was also a suspect under their investigation.

Luke got out of the car, showed his badge, and asked a patrol officer, "What happened here?"

A black patrol officer waved his hand toward the front, "A black Buick sedan crashed into the crowd. There are at least a dozen people injured, and one poor guy had his leg broken; it's all twisted and deformed."

The Buick's attack on the crowd might be connected to George, Luke inquired further, "Where's the driver of the car?"

The black patrol officer looked oddly and pointed at a police car, "He's in the back seat of the police car, a ten-year-old black boy."

Xiaohei thought he had heard wrong, "Did you say the suspect who drove into the people is a ten-year-old boy?"

The black patrol officer replied, "Yes, if it weren't so, the angry crowd would probably have killed him by now."

"Do you know his identity?"

"Not sure, he also has a sister with him.

Both seem terrified and unwilling to say much. The boy keeps saying he's sorry, and the girl keeps asking for her mom."

Luke nodded, moved to the back of the police car, and through the window, he indeed saw two black children, a boy about ten and a girl who looked around six or seven.

Recognizing their faces, Luke immediately knew they were the children of the nurse who had conspired to assassinate George, also the children of the wanted suspect, Jamie Brady.

Pek.

Martha.

Questions arose in Luke's mind.

Weren't these children taken away by Jamie Brady? Why were they here?

Where was Jamie Brady?

Why did they drive into the protest crowd?

Luke opened the car door and spoke in a gentle voice, "Pek, Martha, are you all okay?"

The black boy clung to his sister and leaned back, "You know us?"

"I'm a friend of your mom's, she's a good nurse."

The black girl, crying, choked up, "I miss mom, can you take us to her?"

"Of course, I can help you contact Maria.

But before that, you need to tell me what happened?"