"Is identity a problem?"

Dean's first reaction was that the owner of those secretions had official connections in Los Angeles. Elden nodded. "According to the genetic material comparison, the secretions found on George's body match the genetic material of two women. One is named Li Meimei."

"The other person... she's called Aisha."

"So, the trouble comes from that rich woman named Aisha?"

"Yes. Her father is the chairman of the Truckers Union in Los Angeles—an annoying Italian fellow." When Elden spoke of this man, disgust surfaced on his stern face. "Those people are just the Mafia in disguise. Back when I was younger, they provided me with plenty of targets to practice on. Times have changed too fast; the bad guys of the past have transformed into successful individuals."

Dean understood. Many unions in the United States were originally established by the Mafia. In the early years, they controlled and recruited workers, exploiting them while laundering their own image. They turned protection money into union dues and, after fleecing the workers, preyed on factory owners, amassing vast fortunes. Their union positions also followed the Mafia's tradition of inheritance: father to son, and so on. Without powerful external intervention, this system passed down through generations. Leveraging ties from their Mafia forefathers, they formed an extensive network capable of influencing elections. The United States is very pragmatic. As long as you have money and votes, you're a good friend, a valuable partner to those in power.

This was also why Elden said it would be difficult for Dean to continue the investigation. In Elden's view, if Dean kept digging, Aisha could simply tell her husband, and Dean might very well end up suspended. Dean had considered this too. Although he was Dean Lucches, a member of a Mafia family, the Lucchese family itself had already fallen. It was uncertain whether the other party would acknowledge the Lucchese family's diminished influence.

Dean exhaled slowly and shrugged helplessly. "It seems our only hope is that Ms. Li Meimei can provide some useful information."

Because secretions from Li Meimei, from when she was high, were found on the deceased George, she received an official summons from the Fourth Squad.

「Interrogation room.」

An American-born Chinese middle-aged woman with sharply arched eyebrows and a somewhat severe expression held a slim cigarette. She sat with her legs crossed, sizing up the handsome Dean with apparent interest. Beside her, a middle-aged white lawyer with slicked-back hair and gold-rimmed glasses also appeared relaxed, clearly not taking the young detective seriously. This was the first time Dean had conducted an interrogation with a lawyer present.

He lowered his head, reviewing Li Meimei's file. According to the records, Li Meimei was thirty-nine years old, thrice divorced, and born in the United States with ancestry from Guangdong province, China. Her father owned several garment factories, was worth over a hundred million, and held some influence in Los Angeles's wealthy Chinese business circles. This means she might know Saul Aston. Dean suspected that if Li Meimei truly was involved, Saul Aston's secretary, Qiu, would call him before her lawyer even needed to act. After all, the exchange of favors in the United States is more blatant than in any other country.

Dean tapped the desk, looked up, and offered a gentle smile. "Ms. Li, we found your bodily fluids on the deceased, George. Could you explain your interaction with him on the night he died?"

Li Meimei's eyebrows shot up. She didn't like Dean's directness. She hadn't expected such vulgarity and bluntness beneath the detective's handsome exterior, utterly lacking in depth or gentlemanly grace. How crude!

Li Meimei flicked the ash from her cigarette and said nonchalantly, "Sorry, I had a bit to drink that day. I don't remember."

Dean glanced at the lawyer beside Li Meimei and slowly stood up. "I see. Well, in that case, you're free to go. However, I suggest you call your father. He must be heartbroken to have such a foolish daughter."

"Detective Dean!" the middle-aged lawyer, silent since his initial introduction, exclaimed, his expression suddenly stern. "You are personally attacking my client! I have reason to question your professional integrity!"

"Oh, if you want to file a complaint, please do," Dean said, his demeanor relaxed. "Actually, I've taken down over a dozen criminals and still have a zero-complaint record. As the first to complain, Mr. Lawyer, you'll certainly make a lasting impression!"

Dean grinned and gave Harry a meaningful look. Harry also rose, gesturing for them to leave.

This display intimidated the lawyer, who had a considerable reputation in Los Angeles. High-profile lawyers in the United States often had interesting connections; many were former classmates or even good friends with members of the local Department of Justice, maintaining amicable private relationships. This also meant he was privy to some insider information.

The Fourth Squad... Raymond, the newly appointed head of Internal Affairs who's been riding high lately... A look of realization flashed in the lawyer's eyes. This young Detective Dean must be one of Raymond's men!

Li Meimei had been waiting for her lawyer to confront Dean. But this old dog barely whimpered before losing his nerve. She was instantly dissatisfied. She tossed her cigarette butt aside, her arched eyebrows drawing together in frustration. "Tumen, handle him!"

The lawyer, Tumen, looked troubled. "Miss Li, a simple complaint won't affect him much. The crucial point is that Detective Dean is one of Supervisor Raymond's men. Raymond and your father are both friends of Mr. Saul. It's not wise for us to challenge him."

Raymond? The face of a refined, middle-aged man surfaced in Li Meimei's mind. It wasn't that Raymond was exceptionally famous in Los Angeles. Rather, her family's standing in the city depended on Mr. Saul, and Raymond was one of Saul's few white subordinates. Consequently, most of the wealthy Chinese families allied with Saul knew of him. Raymond and my dad are probably on the same level in Mr. Saul's eyes. This pretty boy is Raymond's man, which means he's nothing more than one of Mr. Saul's dogs... Dean equals dog. I, on the other hand, am my father's only daughter. Therefore, I am greater than Dean.

Li Meimei's mind performed a crude calculation, arriving at an 'astonishing' conclusion: she could definitely afford to provoke this pretty boy! Raymond wouldn't possibly move against me just for a dog, right? I'm far more important than this pretty boy!

With this thought, Li Meimei's gaze toward Dean turned dangerous. Speaking of which, this pretty boy, though annoying, has such delicate skin and sharp features. His physique is quite well-proportioned too. I wonder what he tastes like... And he looks so young. A tender young thing, for sure!

Li Meimei licked her lips, her mind involuntarily conjuring a stimulating scene: she slapped Dean, then made him kneel and beg for forgiveness, obediently dressed in his uniform, licking her toes.

Just thinking about it sent a 'dawn' red flush across her face.

Dean watched them mutter to each other. Then Li Meimei just stood there, stupefied, looking as if she were in heat, her posture unsightly. He sighed helplessly and took out his cellphone. This woman is clearly unhinged. Dean certainly didn't believe her father would only have such a good-for-nothing daughter. So, before issuing the summons, he had obtained the private phone numbers of Li Meimei's father and Aisha's father from Monet. Beating them up wasn't an option, and direct threats weren't advisable either. Calling their parents was the only way.

After dialing, he waited a moment. A deep male voice answered, "Who is this?"

"Mr. Li Lei?" Dean asked directly in fluent Standard Chinese. "I'm Detective Dean from the Fourth Squad. Your daughter and the daughter of the Truckers Union president are implicated in a murder case. To avoid misunderstandings and causing too much commotion, I may need to use certain methods to help your daughter see reason."

Li Meimei is a fool, but her father, who became a billionaire in a foreign country instead of ending up as fodder, is definitely not. Saul is already annoyed by the excessive power of the Chinese tycoons under him and is undoubtedly considering reining them in to avoid being controlled by them. As the saying goes, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. This is a golden opportunity, served on a platter.

Li Meimei's father paused, then spoke in a gentle tone, "Your Mandarin is very precise. We should have tea sometime. I apologize on my daughter's behalf. As for Meimei, if she really did kill someone, just lock her up."

With that, he hung up.

Just as I guessed. He likely has more than one daughter, and he's capable of abandoning this one without hesitation—adept at making tough choices.

Li Meimei had no idea what was happening. Years of alcohol, debauchery, and party drugs had damaged her nerves. Only excellent medical care had kept her from becoming a complete madwoman. But once she succumbed to her delusions, her behavior was rather disgraceful.

Lawyer Tumen waited a while. Seeing Li Meimei still in her stupor, he exasperatedly tried to rouse her.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated at his waist. Tumen pulled it out. Seeing the caller ID, his expression turned serious. He answered respectfully, nodding as he listened. A moment later, he hung up, glanced at Li Meimei—still lost in her lewd fantasies—shook his head, picked up his briefcase, nodded at Dean and Harry, and left the interrogation room without a backward glance.

CLANG.

The rickety door of the interrogation room slammed shut.

Only then did Li Meimei shudder, jolting back to reality. Her eyes narrowed, a lascivious smile familiar to Harry spreading across her face. She beckoned to Dean with a finger. "What are you still standing there for? If you want this queen to forgive you, then..."

Harry just stared. What is this woman saying? Is she unhinged?

Dean was far more direct. He grabbed a nearby desk lamp and walked towards Li Meimei, smiling.

As he approached, Li Meimei finally sensed something was wrong and backed away. "What are you trying to do?"

"Just snapping you out of it." Dean raised the lamp.

"Don't! My father is Li Lei, he... AH!"

SMACK! Her flesh quivered. Li Meimei screamed, clutching her arm as she crumpled to the floor, curled up. Tears and snot streamed down her face with shocking speed. This rich heiress, so far from Dean's aesthetic ideal, was now learning what a real interrogation felt like.

Dean felt no sympathy. He'd had enough of this woman.

The lamp rose again.

Li Meimei, forgetting to scream, begged, "I was wrong! Stop! I'm a woman, you can't..."

CRACK! The lamp struck again. Its base shattered, pieces scattering across the floor.

Li Meimei, her face a mask of twisted, hideous pain, blissfully fainted.

Simply swine, Dean thought, casually tossing the now-baseless lamp to the floor. No idea what her father was thinking, letting this creature run wild. He had controlled his strength; she had fainted merely because her pain tolerance was abysmal.

Harry walked over to Dean, grinning, spat on the floor, and shrugged. "She's out cold. Should I go give that Aisha a nudge?"

「Outside the interrogation room.」

Daisy looked awkwardly at the blonde young woman beside her, whose face had gone white with fright. "Ms. Aisha," she said dryly, "they're usually very gentle."

Aisha just stood there. I want to go home!

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