「Afternoon.」

Fourth Squad meeting room.

Captain Monet was, as usual, slacking off and wasn't present. Old Hunter had also taken leave due to the flu.

Dean, as the detective in charge, hosted the case meeting.

Of course, the Fourth Squad was currently down to just a handful of members: Harry, Robert, Daisy from logistics, and Dean himself.

Dean wrote three names on the blackboard: "Evan Carbone, Ubel Daniel, and Ashaliya Solari!"

"These three individuals," he began. "The first two were the patrol officers who initially handled Sarah's brother's disappearance case. After registering the case, they went to Henry's school to question his classmates. According to Henry's classmates, Henry had recently befriended a group of ill-behaved punks from outside the school. So, they concluded Henry had likely just run away from home and reported this outcome to Sarah.

"The third person, Ashaliya Solari, was a dispatcher at the precinct. She handled Sarah's second call for help. However, the two patrol officers responsible for the case didn't take Sarah's claims of murder and danger seriously. They just registered the case as per protocol and handed over the chat logs from Henry's computer to the forensics department."

"Those bastards were too damn perfunctory," Harry grumbled.

Robert rolled his eyes and bluntly pointed out his double standard. "Buddy, their handling of it wasn't wrong. That's the standard procedure for most cases. You're just upset because this case involves someone you know."

Dean inwardly nodded, agreeing with Robert's statement. Although the two patrol officers had been perfunctory in handling Sarah's brother's case, they had, in the end, followed procedure. To the people involved, it might seem irresponsible. But procedurally, everything was considered standard, and not inherently problematic.

Instead, it was the female dispatcher who raised red flags!

Dean's instincts told him there was something off about this woman. This wasn't some male intuition, but rather a sensitivity honed from experience with cases.

Dispatchers are quite similar to many customer service representatives. Every day, they deal with countless prank calls and encounter all sorts of bizarre people and situations. And because calls are recorded, they have to maintain a 'smile' whether they want to or not. Being at the bottom of the hierarchy, they don't have as many outlets as regular patrol officers to vent their accumulated negative emotions or find 'additional income'. As a result, people in these roles often seek psychological counseling more frequently.

Thinking about this, Dean drew a line under the names Evan Carbone and Ubel Daniel. "Harry, do you know these two guys?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't know them, but give me five minutes, and I'll get you their details!"

With that, he walked out of the meeting room, phone in hand.

Daisy, who had been munching on fries and grilled fish off to the side, wiped her greasy mouth and looked up contentedly. "Dean, what about the last one, Ashaliya? Don't you suspect her?"

"I'm guessing the lovely Ms. Daisy can provide me with her detailed information."

"For the sake of those delicious fries and grilled fish, Dean, you're right." Daisy took a sip of coffee, then rubbed her full stomach. "Ashaliya is a dispatcher at the precinct. Her workload is much heavier than mine, so her emotions sometimes become unstable, which also contributed to her unhappy marriage."

"She's divorced?"

"Yes. To release stress, her personal life is somewhat chaotic, um... Let's just say, if you were to sneakily grope her ass, she might pull a gun on you. But if you pinned her down and had your way with her, she'd openly enjoy it and leave you her number afterward. She even secretly saw a psychologist because of this. The doctor diagnosed her with masochism. Simply put, she enjoys being treated roughly. Unfortunately, her husband was too gentle, so she kicked her nerdy husband to the curb."

Dean and Robert were speechless. The world is full of strange people.

Robert asked curiously, "Then wouldn't she be better suited as a guard in a men's prison? That would be like heaven for her."

This fellow, with his earnest face—thick eyebrows and large eyes—actually had a sly, playful side.

Daisy chuckled. "You think she hasn't tried?"

"Unfortunately, she didn't pass the psychological evaluation. Apparently, the prison administration was worried she'd end up colluding with the inmates, so they rejected her application. She was quite upset about it and even complained about it to Phoebe and me during a girls' night out."

So that's why Daisy knew so much about Ashaliya, Dean and Robert realized. They were 'besties.'

Dean thought for a moment and asked, "Daisy, do you think it's possible she could be bought off?"

Daisy shook her head. "Bribed? I doubt it. She comes from a family of police officers. But if she got involved with the wrong kind of man, it's hard to say. All I can tell you is that she's somewhat... strange."

Although she hadn't been explicit, Dean's suspicion of Ashaliya deepened.

As they were speaking, Harry walked back in, looking annoyed. "FUCK! I don't know if it was Hawk's damn crew who spread the word that I have a daughter, but it took me several calls to finally get the information on those two patrol officers."

Daisy teased with a chuckle, "Tsk, tsk, Harry. Looks like your 'harem of informants' isn't going to work anymore."

"Impossible!" Harry declared with a tragic expression. "You think those women care about that? They'll just use it as an excuse to bleed my already anemic wallet dry!"

Dean cut off his rant. "Buddy, we still don't know what's happened to Sarah's brother. Right now, we need efficiency and speed."

Harry spread his hands. "Alright, based on the info I got, those two patrol officers are probably clean. They weren't as negligent as Sarah described. After checking surveillance and conducting interviews, they found that after Henry went out, he met up with two delinquents roughly his age. The patrol officers found these delinquents to understand the situation. Turns out they were Henry's childhood friends, and they were out celebrating one of their birthdays. Because Sarah didn't allow Henry to hang out with this group, he snuck out."

"But isn't Henry only twelve years old?" Robert asked, puzzled.

Harry pointed to the bandage under Dean's clothes. "Buddy, don't underestimate twelve-year-old punks. Their minds aren't mature, they act without thinking of the consequences, and they don't hesitate to kill. Dean and I were almost taken down by a bunch of kids like that!"

Hearing this, Robert shut up.

Harry continued, "My guess is, because the two patrol officers are white, Sarah naturally distrusts them, so she likely injected her own biases into her account."

"But that kind of behavior could lead us to make serious misjudgments!" Dean frowned.

He really hadn't noticed Sarah holding anything back. The so-called Mind Reading Technique was more of a psychological tool than some kind of magic. For someone like Sarah, who was already emotionally unstable and subconsciously wove her assumptions into her narrative, it would be difficult to discern truth from fiction even if you could genuinely read minds. This was because, in their own minds, what they were saying *was* the truth.

Harry looked somewhat embarrassed by this and glanced at Robert and Daisy for help.

Daisy, having just eaten and drunk her fill, was in a good mood and decided to change the subject. "Dean, didn't you ask me to check on that online friend Henry was chatting with? The precinct's forensics department got the results back this afternoon."

"What's the situation?"

"Sarah's suspicions were correct. The guy is indeed a pervert with a prior record for online luring. But because he only lured some kids to his place to take some 'disturbing' cosplay photos and then safely sent them home with nice gifts, even when parents discovered his actions, the judge only sentenced him to a fine and community service. As for why he didn't contact Henry after Henry went missing, it's because..." Daisy's expression turned peculiar. "Because he can't type anymore."

"Can't type?"

"Yes, literally. One father saw 'Little Princess' cosplay photos of his son online. So this father, armed with a semi-automatic rifle, found the man and forced him to take some rather explicit photos of himself. He then mass-texted these photos to all the man's friends, family, and acquaintances. Unable to handle the humiliation, the guy jumped from a building to commit suicide. He ended up breaking both arms and a leg, and is now laid up in the hospital."

"Sounds satisfying." Dean rubbed his face. "At least we can eliminate one line of inquiry. It seems the only lead on Henry's disappearance now are the two childhood friends he was with that night."

With the case laid out more clearly, Dean began giving instructions. "Harry and I will go find those two young punks and get some information. As for Daisy, I'll give you funds to take Ashaliya out for a drink tonight. Try to get some information, see what she's been up to lately."

As the detective in charge, approving a few hundred US dollars for operational expenses wasn't a problem for him.

Daisy's face lit up. "Dean, honestly, you really have the air of a captain now. It's comfortable working under you."

"That's because you wouldn't dare extort the Captain, but you have no problem shaking *me* down!" Dean flipped her the bird, then turned to Robert. "Robert, your task is no small one. I need you to stay close to Sarah and protect her."

Robert looked completely baffled. "Dean, why don't you have Harry do it? He's going to get jealous."

Dean sighed. "Because I don't want a situation where someone gets desperate, and Harry, caught stark naked, has to confront an armed goon with nothing but his 'little brother'."

Harry was speechless at Dean's words.

Henry's two childhood friends, one thirteen and the other fourteen, were early school dropouts who roamed the streets. But at that age, they lacked experience, and their bodies weren't fully developed. Beyond their defiant attitude, frankly, their lives weren't dignified. Often, armed with guns, they'd hide in dark corners and rob passersby just to get by. It was also because of people like them that passersby often carried some small bills. That way, if they were robbed, they wouldn't risk getting shot by these drunk or high-on-drugs young punks just because they had no money on them. This had become a common reality of Los Angeles nights.

Dean and Harry, following intelligence, found this group of scantily clad, disheveled punks in an abandoned building. They looked like they had just finished some kind of 'Silver Party'.

Even Harry, who came from a poor, predominantly Black neighborhood, stared wide-eyed at the scene. "FUCK, these bastards know how to party way harder than we ever did back in the day."

Dean glanced at a corner and said coolly, "They're probably earning money."

In the corner, an expensive-looking camera was still recording...

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