North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws

Dean rolled his eyes.

I knew there was something fishy here!

On the other side of the phone, there was a brief pause.

Then Anthony continued, "Tagore Morgan, to be precise, was my grandfather, an inconspicuous archaeologist who liked to conduct his 'archaeological' research in various countries. Over fifty years ago, Grandpa Tagore accidentally discovered an encrypted diary in a German flea market. The diary originated from a declining German noble family. He deciphered the diary and ultimately uncovered the secret of a treasure of about 120 tons of gold. The secret of the treasure was about a group of German soldiers, who, upon their defeat in WWII, stored a stash of gold at a base in the Sahara Desert.

"But unfortunately, Grandpa Tagore was dissatisfied with the head of the family at the time due to certain events. So he took the opportunity to deliberately set up mini-treasures of his own in various places, and he left part of the key to open the military base in each of the treasures. After doing all this, he sent one-ninth of this information and a key back to the family."

At this point, Anthony couldn't help but laugh again. His grandfather's character was indeed quite amusing. Letting you see it, but not touch it. Yep, just for fun.

"So, mentor, did your family intentionally spread that picture online as bait?"

"Yes, thanks to the development of the internet." Anthony continued, his next words making Dean's scalp tingle, "The former head of the family knew the places where Grandpa had spent a lot of time, and because he had one of the treasure maps as a clue, he created about a dozen baits of uncertain authenticity and scattered them in chat rooms and on websites frequented by people interested in these mountains and rivers. As soon as someone started tracking the person who spread the picture, or showed excessive interest in the picture, we would track down their internet IP and then find and confirm the person's identity. This method was very effective. In just a few years, we have collected eight-ninths of the keys. We're just one short of being able to safely retrieve the gold without triggering the base's self-destruct mechanism.

"When I returned to the Commonwealth, I even overheard family members chatting that they had found the last person. They're just in the process of confirming it. I guess that person might be the unlucky one you found."

While Dean felt fortunate that he had made the call, his excitement dampened like a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.

Great.

All that excitement for nothing.

And he also realized that Anthony's Morgan Family, even without the influence of the Morgans from his previous life, was not to be underestimated.

"Alright, I've shared the secret now. Dean, as a reward for your trust, once the family retrieves that batch of gold, I'll request that the family give you a bonus. It may not be too much, but a few million US dollars should definitely be no problem."

"Really?" Dean hadn't expected an extra perk.

"For real. For the Morgan Family, the greatest significance of this batch of gold is actually the former head's desire to respond to Grandpa Tagore. Both of them are of quite an age now and still at odds with each other. We younger generations each have our own paths to follow and aren't too concerned about the gold. We just treat this whole affair as a little recreational fun."

Fine then.

The people involved are not only alive but also using four billion US dollars to spite each other.

So, anyone with the Morgan name is loaded!

Dean agreed with Anthony that once he obtained the final piece of the key, he would have Anthony send someone to retrieve it, to avoid any misunderstandings later on.

After hanging up the call, Dean quickly tallied up the wealth he currently had and could expect in the near future: He had three hundred eighty thousand US dollars in cash, two million US dollars from Massa, the undetermined value of the small treasure in the mountains, and a few million US dollars promised by Anthony...

Round it up, and it's pretty much ten million.

In just over two months, he was about to become a multimillionaire.

Not bad at all.

Feeling delighted, Dean lay down to sleep.

「The next day.」

A torrential rain was pouring outside. Dean slouched in the living room chair, leisurely watching the raindrops fall in the yard, enjoying his rare day off.

The matters regarding his training with Massa were still unsettled. So Dean wasn't in a hurry to return to the detective bureau.

Just then, a call from an unknown number came through.

Dean answered with some confusion, "Hello, this is Dean."

"Hello." A slightly nervous voice came from the other end of the phone. "I'm Camille. Um, Mr. Dean, do you remember the incident with the lucky coin?"

The lucky coin?

Dean suddenly remembered, and an image of a plump girl playing with a skateboard and dressed in hip-hop attire flashed in his mind. The last time he saw his little brother crouched in the flower bed of the neighborhood, looking heartbroken, so he demonstrated some practical techniques, telling him how to flirt with girls. After that, he hadn't paid much attention to the matter.

He didn't expect that almost a month had passed.

And now, that girl had actually contacted him.

"Mr. Dean?"

"Oh, sorry, I was just reminded of my lucky coin again.

"It was the last keepsake my grandmother left me, but unfortunately, it was lost due to a reckless girl, and I even missed my final chance to confess to my goddess because of it.

"If that girl hadn't been so sweet and adorable, like my first love, I don't think I would have forgiven her.

"Right. Camille, why do you have my phone number, and is there something you want?"

With nothing better to do, Dean decided to tease her. He also planned to arrange a time to treat her to a good meal as an apology for his fib.

On the other end of the phone, after hearing Dean's words, the girl unconsciously touched her burning face and stuttered, "Th-that... that, Mr. Dean, I am the girl who lost your lucky coin. I've been searching for it near the flower bed for some time, but I haven't found it. It might have rolled into the sewer."

Was there really someone this earnest?

Dean felt a sense of shame for his own actions. He decided to ask her out and apologize for his behavior.

"Alright, it's all in the past now.

"Maybe it's just fate.

"Just like how I missed my farewell with my goddess.

"If it's okay with you, find some time to treat me to something, and I'll forgive you."

"Tomorrow, I'll be going home from college since the school is about to start the winter break. Let's meet up and talk then," Camille said, seemingly nervous, and hung up quickly.

A college student?

Dean's eyes lit up and he whistled before picking up a book by Thompson about decryption and started reading again.

Sheila, who was cleaning nearby, came over, "Dean, I don't remember your grandmother leaving you any lucky coin."

Dean shrugged, "Mom, it's just a pickup technique. You should be thankful you met Dad. Otherwise, with your naivety, you would've definitely been duped when you were young."

"Then I would've personally stuffed that swindler's mouth full of steel pellets!" Sheila clenched her fist fiercely, giving Dean a disdainful look.

He talks a big game about picking up girls.

But he's almost twenty-two and still hasn't brought a girlfriend home.

Such a waste of my good genes!

The torrential rain continued on his second day home. As winter approached every year, the weather in Los Angeles was not very good.

Massa called Dean to say that he had handled the situation in the mountains and that the training scores had been sent to the Detective Bureau. These scores would be added to Dean's file.

As for the reward money, Massa said it would be deposited into Dean's bank account within three working days.

「On the other hand,」

Camille, who had called the day before, called again, apologizing profusely that there was a missing person case on the floor of her college dormitory. She had to cooperate with the police inquiry and planned to return home in a day or two.

To this, Dean indifferently said they could get in touch then.

In the afternoon, when the rain gradually stopped, Dean was still lying in his usual spot, enjoying his leisure time.

But Sheila complained, "Dean, you've been home for two or three days and you don't want to help me with the housework!"

Dean looked baffled at Sheila.

Had Mom had a change of heart?

I'm your favorite second son!

How could you bear to make me work!

Faced with his impatient mom, Dean, still baffled, put on his service pistol, drove downtown, and called Harry. He planned to invite him out for some fun and, incidentally, to discuss whether staying home too long could make one a nuisance.

"Harry, come out, let's go have fun!"

It was noisy on Harry's end, with the roar of machines in the background. "Dean," Harry said, "I was just about to call you. We found a woman's corpse in a dire state at the waste treatment plant. It's a bit troublesome. Can you come over?"

A new case?

Dean, who had just acquired the 'Trace Tracking' skill, felt his eyes light up. After asking for the address, he immediately drove over.