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

"You must have considered the consequences if you got caught, and you had a plan for afterward, right?"

Dean was even more interested in this youthful-looking girl.

This was conducive to his understanding of a criminal's psychology.

"That's even simpler!" Camille said confidently:

"Sophie already had many enemies, which would greatly confuse the police's investigation.

I also prepared two leads for the police.

One is Sophie's first love, the other is her professor; as long as they look into it, they'll find that both had the motive, the opportunity, and the means to kill.

Even if all of this is useless.

Sophie died by a garbage truck, and it's hard to link the wounds on her body to me.

Even if they eventually focus on me..."

Camille sneered, "According to California law, it's hard for the police to gather a complete chain of evidence, which is also why I made Sophie's death look delayed.

The most crucial thing is that I've prepared all the evidence of the crimes Sophie committed.

Even if I am put on trial.

When it's time for court,

I'll reveal these things and ignite public opinion.

The criminal record in my file won't be my shame but rather will become medals of honor for Camille.

They will call me... a hero!"

Afterward.

Be it writing a book or doing other things using my fame,

everything will go smoothly for Camille.

Dean looked at the confident Camille with surprise and gave a thumbs up: "You are the second smartest girl I know, and I'm really curious why you ended up in this trashy school."

Faced with the praise.

Camille was somewhat disgruntled, frowning her pretty brows: "Second? Mr. Dean, are you saying that I'm only the second smartest girl you know?"

"Yes, her name is Carol, and she is 13 years old this year." Dean thought of the thirteen-year-old girl taken away by Anthony, his tone was certain!

At least.

He could suppress Camille here before him.

But should he be facing Carol instead,

Dean would not hesitate to draw his gun, not giving her a chance to speak, and end her physically!

"13 years old? I don't believe it!"

Camille clenched her fists tightly: "I've never met anyone smarter than me, do you think I would..."

She abruptly stopped, and her large eyes still showed defiance, as if saying to Dean: you're lying, I don't believe you!

"Plan?"

"Right!" Camille looked at Dean with contempt: "It's to lure in perverts like you with a thing for kids, then meet them one by one and castrate them!"

Since it was all out in the open, she wasn't hiding anymore.

Especially after Dean mentioned knowing another 13-year-old girl.

Since coming into the house.

He had looked at her legs no less than fifty times!

And he still had the nerve to say he wasn't a pervert!

Pah!

Scumbag!

Dean rolled his eyes and venomously retorted, "I don't fancy flat chests. I hope you'll drink more papaya milk in prison, 'little chopping board'; if you lean back, I might even think you're bending over, heh~"

Camille looked down to sadly find that her plain, flat chest and straight, slender legs were fully exposed to view.

Her tightly clenched fists slowly relaxed as she looked up and said through gritted teeth: "Drop dead, scumbag!"

The next moment.

She leaped up, delivering a standard Taekwondo roundhouse kick toward Dean's head.

"Wow~"

"Isn't this the thug's excited punch."

"It's been years since I've seen underwear with cartoon patterns."

As Dean spoke, his hand accurately caught the small leg Camille had eagerly offered, and he stood up, holding this barely one hundred-pound girl who was just 1.7 meters tall, while his nimble fingers slid to the root of her leg, flicking away the hidden scalpel.

"Let me go, scumbag!"

Camille was hanging upside down, raising her fists to pound Dean's thigh.

But after Dean's fingers grazed past,

a strange current surged,

tingly and numb.

The girl's angry shouts became strangely weak, losing the zeal of an angry little dog, and instead sounded more like the cute mewing of a kitten.

Realizing something was off, Dean quickly let go: "Hope to see you turn yourself in at the detective's office today. If fate allows, we'll meet again. Goodbye!"

After he left the house,

Dean vigorously slapped his left hand several times.

That damn innate skill.

Although Camille, this 'legal loli,' was indeed tempting, Dean definitely didn't want to mess with a female pervert who planned to castrate others.

Inside the house,

Camille, her face flushed, picked up her scalpel and plunged it angrily into the couch.

This damn pervert!

Creak.

At that moment, Yang Di opened the door to the bedroom, poking out his head, worried: "Camille, are you okay, did that asshole bully you?"

Camille quickly hid the scalpel in her hand, shaking her head: "No, he... wasn't too bad, let's first discuss how to handle the next steps. By the way, do you have any spare pants..."

Yang Di: ???

...

After leaving Yang Di's place,

Dean drove off to the supermarket.

He was planning a one-on-one meeting with the twin sisters tonight.

It was destined to be a bloody and brutal night.

So he needed to prepare an extra-large box of 'little umbrellas' to safeguard his future life and avoid mishaps.

Dean certainly didn't want to end up on one of those gory American paternity shows one day.

Just then,

Harry called: "Wow, Dean, I've made a big discovery here. I found Sophie's blood in her professor's wife's car."