MTLNOVEL Chapter 135 Conclusion, "From Physical to Mental Taming of Intelligent Species"_1
Blood, a dark crimson, spread across the floor.
Bokke's eyes bulged.
He probably couldn't fathom it.
Why could someone's shooting Speed be so fast!
Perhaps when the bullets pierced his brain, his neurons hadn't completely died; he may have even experienced a flashback at the moment of death.
But all that no longer mattered to him.
BANG!
The front door was kicked open!
Leslie, guns in both hands, looked tensely inside the house, only to see Dean standing calmly, Harry lying on the ground in a gun-drawing pose, and Bokke, shot in the head, dead with his eyes wide open.
"PHEW." Leslie sighed in relief. "Hearing the gunfire, I thought Bokke suddenly drew a gun."
"He did draw a gun," Dean said, patting his holster. "But in front of me, he was as slow as an eighty-year-old man."
Having said that, Dean kicked Harry. "Buddy, stop scrubbing the floor. Let's go check out that doghouse. I have a feeling there might be a surprise waiting for us!"
Dean was quite satisfied with Harry's instinctive reaction to try and push him aside.
Outside, Portolia, gun in hand, crouched in a corner. Seeing Dean emerge, she breathed a sigh of relief. "I've already called our colleagues from the precinct. Are you guys okay?"
"We're fine, but the body inside needs to be dealt with," Dean said. With Harry, who was warmly greeting Portolia, he approached the doghouse, examined it briefly, then lifted his foot and kicked it hard!
The true art of lock-breaking is often plain and unadorned.
With the impact of great force, the doghouse shuddered with a thud.
The seemingly sturdy door burst open.
The scene that met Dean's eyes made him pause.
Harry and Portolia, seeing Dean's reaction, followed in curiosity to look inside the doghouse.
The next moment, Harry's mouth hung open.
Portolia's hands covered her mouth. Her already large eyes widened further, and a mix of surprise, curiosity, excitement, and a touch of anticipation appeared on her face.
The decent-sized doghouse was split into an inner and outer section. The outer section was enclosed by a chain-link fence, with dog kennels and iron bowls of various sizes scattered around. Further inside was a round 'dog cage' covered with soundproofing material.
Inside the cage, two naked men, locked in iron collars, lay on the ground, showing their blooming "sunflowers," fast asleep.
"Holy shit!"
Harry finally snapped out of it, turned his head, and quickly exited the structure to spare his sense of morality from the spectacle.
Dean, well-acquainted with the world's oddities, only hesitated slightly before entering to survey the surroundings.
It was as he had guessed. These two unfortunate souls must have been trying to steal from Bokke, not realizing the big guy was into men, thus turning their daisies into sunflowers.
What was more shocking, Bokke was a Dog Trainer.
He had been training these two men as if they were dogs.
And apparently, the results weren't too bad. In just a few days, these two brothers had already been thoroughly broken in by Bokke.
Indeed, those who try to screw others will eventually get screwed themselves. Such is the wisdom of the ancients.
"Do they need a doctor?" Portolia, cheeks flushed, approached Dean and gazed intently at the scene, her breathing becoming heated.
"It looks like there's no need. Never underestimate the expansion potential of the sphincter. But..." Dean raised an eyebrow, looking at Portolia. "Why do I get the feeling you find this exciting?"
"Really?" Portolia met Dean's scrutinizing gaze with a sly smile. "I just think these two got what they deserved. I'm just a bit happy, that's all."
She couldn't stop rubbing her legs together.
Like hell I believe you! Dean thought.
Dean had no interest in women with children.
He turned away and kicked a nearby post, causing the chains on the Wayne brothers' necks to jingle, finally awakening the two from their deep sleep.
They were still somewhat dazed, but their bodies seemed to have formed a conditioned reflex.
The Wayne brothers instinctively stuck out their tongues, mimicking a dog's panting with huffing sounds, while also aiming their "sunflowers" towards the doorway, wagging them from side to side.
The sight was quite eye-watering.
Dean was also a bit shocked. After all, men are not dogs. No matter how much training, the process of subjugation should take much longer.
Dean had initially thought that Bokke had only managed to get the Wayne brothers into their current state through threats and intimidation. It seemed he had underestimated Bokke's training methods!
Surprised as he was, Dean still followed protocol. "Wayne brothers, you are suspected in multiple cases of theft and assault. Now..."
As the arrest declaration concluded, a message crossed Dean's mind: [Theft and Assault case solved, Experience Points +400, Current Level: 13 (1500/2400)]
This case wasn't difficult, providing only four hundred Experience Points.
Until the next Level, he still needed nine hundred Experience Points.
He could foresee that if he wanted to level up quickly in the future, he would either have to form a competent team to solve more cases or take on cases that were larger in scope. But that was a concern for the future.
With the Experience Points in hand, Dean didn't want to waste any more time here. He looked at Portolia, whose excitement and particular inclinations were barely contained. "I'll leave this to you guys. Just send a case closure report to the Fourth Squad later."
With that, Dean left the structure.
Inside the doghouse, the Wayne brothers, hearing the unfamiliar voice, finally came to their senses.
They first turned their heads in shocked suspicion. Upon seeing the flushed, petite yet buxom Portolia, they immediately let out bloodcurdling screams, crying and sobbing, "Help, there's a pervert here!"
Portolia snapped out of her strange state. Looking at the Wayne brothers, who were locked with a dog chain and wanted to get close but couldn't, she licked her rosy lips, crouched down, and giggled, "A pervert? Me?"
The two hadn't understood what she meant by that.
The next moment, a fragrant breeze wafted by.
The brothers felt a sharp pain at their temples, then everything went dark. Their heads fell limply to the ground like dead dogs, and they passed out.
If a doctor were to saw open their brains, they would find that countless, almost invisible capillaries had ruptured, slowly eating away at the Wayne brothers' lives.
Looking at the unconscious brothers, Portolia wiped her fingertips and put them in her mouth as if tasting something delicious, murmuring, "Dean, you have potential. You won't escape the palm of my hand..."
...
Of course, Dean had no idea what had happened at the doghouse after he left.
He returned to Bokke's cabin with a dejected Harry and began searching again under Leslie's puzzled gaze.
Leslie had already checked the house. Seeing this, he asked in confusion, "Dean, no findings at the doghouse?"
"No, we found the Wayne brothers there," Dean shrugged. "I came over because I'm curious whether Bokke left any dog training notes or something. My grandpa wants to raise some obedient sheepdogs, and he needs some professional guidance."
Leslie pointed to an inner room. "There's a study in there with a bunch of books on the table that might have what you're looking for. But..."
He looked at Harry, curiously adding, "Your buddy looks a bit off."
Harry grimaced. "Detective Leslie, as a man, I sincerely advise you, you'd better not go to the doghouse. What's inside is greatly damaging to a man's soul."
"Oh? Is that so?" Leslie's interest was piqued.
He left with curiosity.
By the time Dean emerged from the study with seven or eight books and notes, Leslie had returned.
He and Harry leaned silently against the wall, smoking. They no longer displayed their usual indifference. Their buttocks were clenched tight, and their brows carried a 'slight' trace of sorrow.
Dean could tell what had happened at a glance.
This phenomenon, in psychology, is called information pollution or empathy—in layman's terms, it's like when the fox mourns the death of the hare, a sort of misery loves company.
Clearly, Leslie hadn't been able to suppress his curiosity while Dean was away and had ultimately succumbed to the mental shock from the two large "sunflowers" in the doghouse, causing a 'localized' discomfort in his body.
Upon seeing Dean, Leslie exhaled a melancholic ring of smoke. "Buddy, I'm curious why you seem so indifferent after seeing what happened to the Wayne brothers."
That scene would make any normal man feel both physically and psychologically uncomfortable.
Dean smiled faintly. "Because I know, even if I ended up like the Wayne brothers, it will definitely not be me who blossoms into a sunflower!"
...
On the way back, Dean asked Harry to drive while he eagerly flipped through the books and notes Bokke had left behind.
The guy was a bit of a creep, but he had real skills. In his study, there were not only all sorts of professional books, but he had also written a book, its contents still quite disorganized, titled "From Physical to Mental Taming of Intelligent Species," based on what he had learned and researched.
Apparently, the guy had wanted to publish it.
Too bad. He died under Dean's Speed, a headshot in nearly 0.1 seconds.
Dean was very interested in these spoils of war. He was curious whether, after studying these materials, a "Taming" skill would form on his panel, one that could tame all kinds of intelligent species.
If that were the case, it would indeed be interesting. Hehe...
...
Leslie was very supportive.
The day the case ended, he explained the situation in detail to the other squads and attributed most of the credit for the case to Dean.
The case wasn't particularly extraordinary, but Dean's efficiency and the keen sense of deduction he exhibited impressed the knowledgeable insiders, confirming Dean's level of skill!
This guy definitely hadn't gotten his position through connections! He had real talent!
The police station was a place where strength spoke. Consequently, Dean's reputation, which had already begun to spread within the Detective Bureau, disseminated even faster to all the major precincts and other departments in Los Angeles.
Many were curious about everything concerning the newly crowned strongest detective.
Harry found that he had suddenly become more popular. Many people invited him for drinks as an excuse to inquire about Dean.
Under his drunken boasting, Dean unexpectedly gained a bunch of very special nicknames: Headshot Detective, Youngest Detective of Los Angeles, Big Gun Detective, the Bulldozer with Women...
Dean knew nothing of these because he was preparing for his Detective promotion ceremony!
There are three great joys for a man: promotion, getting rich, and a dead wife.
Being a Detective in the police hierarchy meant one was already halfway into management. With no major mistakes, one could simply climb the ranks to become a Deputy Chief just by accumulating seniority. Not to mention Dean was still so young.
The promotion ceremony hadn't even started, yet he had already received numerous invitations.
Among them was one from Eve, whom he hadn't been in contact with for a long time.
She wasn't doing very well lately.
Originally, Eve, by singing Dean's praises after he cracked the bank armored car heist, had won the friendship of Senator Snetter.
She was about to move from Deputy Chief of the Narcotics Division to take over as Chief.
Then Senator Snetter bit the dust.
It's funny how fate works. She suddenly lost her biggest bargaining chip.
In February, the Chief of the Narcotics Division was going to retire. But Eve knew that without someone powerful backing her, the position would definitely not come to her; it was more likely to be taken by an outsider.
So these days, Eve had been busy networking and didn't even have the heart to savor Dean, this delicious piece of tender meat.
It was only after hearing about Dean's promotion that Eve woke up as if from a dream, cursing her own oversight. With full sincerity, she finally asked Dean out...