Lawrence had the worst tolerance for liquor.

He was still a bit dazed. "Does the FBI still handle prostitution crackdowns these days?"

Harry, much more sober, slapped him on the glutes. "Fuck! Don't be so ambiguous; we have a normal working relationship!"

Dean silently picked up his clothes, covering his arousal.

The two FBI agents were also completely bewildered.

The older, middle-aged agent looked at his partner in confusion. "Buddy, didn't you say there was only one woman in the target room? Why are there three men here?"

His partner shrugged. "Must have been a mistake with the intel. Still, catching three 'faggots' isn't a completely wasted trip."

"Fuck you!"

Lawrence finally realized what was happening.

His jowls quivered with rage as he glared at the younger agent. "Screw you and your 'faggot'! What law says several men can't rent a room to rest?"

"Well, now, we'll need to inspect the scene to be sure about that!"

They even dared to talk back!

The young agent, feeling provoked, decided to teach these three 'faggots' a lesson.

His expression turned serious. "Alright, you three, hands on your heads, squat on the ground! Or else..."

Before he could finish, a figure lunged like a tiger, springing from the ground. Before the two FBI agents could react, he had grabbed both of their gun-wielding right hands and twisted forcefully.

CRACK!

The two men screamed in pain as their firearms clattered to the floor.

Dean kicked the fallen handguns aside before calmly dressing. He then pulled out his detective badge, turning the tables and aiming a gun at the two agents.

"I'm Detective Dean from the Police Department. Now, put your hands on your heads and don't make any moves that could be misunderstood. Otherwise, considering your assault on an officer, I have every reason to shoot in self-defense!"

"Fuck!"

The two unlucky FBI agents, clutching their injured right hands, obediently squatted with their hands on their heads under the menacing black muzzle.

Lawrence flashed a ferocious grin and cracked his neck. "I hate 'faggots' the most. Now, I'm going to search you. Make one move, and I'll strip you naked!"

Harry was still getting dressed. Yet, clad only in his boxers, Lawrence began patting down the two men.

The middle-aged agent endured the humiliation silently.

The younger agent, however, couldn't bear it. "Buddy, can you please put on some clothes?" he whined. "Your chest hair is disgusting!"

Lawrence's heavy slap across the young man's face taught him his place.

Cursing, Lawrence examined the IDs he'd taken from them. A grin spread across his face. "No wonder slapping you felt so good. Turns out you really are FBI agents."

They had vented their anger. Naturally, Dean wasn't going to kill these two over such a minor incident.

"Alright, it seems this was indeed a misunderstanding. In that case, we're even. Next time, make sure you know who you're dealing with before you kick down a door, or someone could get killed!"

After returning their IDs and service weapons, he was about to take Harry and Lawrence back to the precinct when the middle-aged agent stopped him.

"Buddy, I'm really sorry about this. We're currently pursuing a cross-state serial cannibal. If you happen to find any mutilated remains, please call me immediately."

With that, he handed Dean a business card.

Dean accepted it. According to the information, the middle-aged man was Merck, a senior agent. An agent of his rank was either exceptionally skilled or a seasoned veteran.

Considering their botched raid, Dean guessed the latter.

He wasn't interested in the details of their case and simply nodded. "Alright, if I hear anything, I'll contact you."

「Squad Four.」

Robert had returned to the team. From the looks of it, his mother's condition wasn't too bad; it was just a false alarm.

With the return of Lawrence and Phoebe, Squad Four was at full strength again.

At two in the afternoon, Dean was pondering what gift to bring to Eve's promotion party that evening.

Daisy approached, interrupting his thoughts. "Dean, you promised to treat me to hot pot. Are you going to keep your word?"

She had been looking forward to hot pot for a long time. If it hadn't been so expensive, she would have gone by herself already. But Dean, that bastard, seemed to have forgotten all about it now that the case was over.

Dean quickly reassured her, "Don't worry, Daisy. I never go back on my word to a woman, especially a beautiful one. Actually, I'm planning to rent a place this weekend. We can all get together then. You won't be disappointed."

"Great!" Daisy left, satisfied.

With nothing else to do, Dean prepared to slip away to buy the evening's gift. But just as he stepped out of the office, he ran into Monet and Old Hunter in the hallway, returning with a bucket and fishing rods.

These two salary thieves were laughing and chatting on their way to the office.

Upon seeing Dean, Monet quickly called out, "Dean, tell the guys to meet in the conference room. I have an announcement."

"Alright, Captain."

His attempt to skive off failed. Dejected, Dean returned to the office and summoned everyone to the conference room.

"Welcome back."

"Lawrence, Phoebe, how are you two feeling? If you need it, I can approve some more leave for you to recuperate," Monet said, as always, trying to win them over.

Phoebe was somewhat tempted.

Lawrence, however, slapped his chest. "No problem, Captain! I'm always in top condition. Do we have a new case today?"

Monet shook his head. He scanned the room, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, including reluctance. "Actually, I'm the one transferring departments. Starting next month, Old Hunter will temporarily take my place as acting team leader and will oversee your work."

Dean tactfully led the applause.

Old Hunter isn't young anymore. So, him becoming team leader is really just holding the spot for me.

Old Hunter, hearing the thunderous applause in the conference room, breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that he, an old hand, was still quite popular and well-respected among Dean's group of youngsters.

After a moment, Monet gestured for quiet and continued, "Aside from that, there's also Lawrence's promotion. Lawrence, your qualifications have long been sufficient for promotion to Detective. Since I'm leaving, I went ahead and submitted your application."

Lawrence's jaw dropped. "I'm getting promoted to Detective?"

"Yes. Squad Four has performed very well previously. In the new year, all cases that were once transferred to other squads will now be handled by us. You and Dean will need to lead separate teams to tackle these cases," Monet said, his voice tinged with melancholy.

It's tough watching Squad Four get better and better, only to have to leave it. Fortunately, these are all people I personally trained and discovered. Even in a different department, I can still call on them if needed.

"Thirdly, due to a personnel shortage, the Police Department has granted Squad Four four additional slots. These new members will be assigned to you two, Dean and Lawrence. So, if you have any reliable candidates in mind, you can recommend them for assessment."

"Then, Captain, which department will you be transferred to?" Dean asked curiously. Monet hadn't discussed this with him beforehand.

Monet adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, a classic rogue's smile playing on his lips. "Originally, it was the Operations Department, but I don't care for the atmosphere there, so I applied for a transfer to the Internal Affairs Department!"

Everyone instantly understood. No wonder Lawrence, that good-for-nothing, had managed to get promoted to Detective despite so many complaints. It was because Monet was about to join the management of the Internal Affairs Department.

With their own supervisor overseeing them, it looked like things would be much more comfortable for Squad Four from now on. At the very least, under Monet's influence, some complaints, if not entirely ignored, would be reduced from major issues to minor ones, or even dismissed altogether.

This also meant that when Dean and the others were out on cases, they could be much more lenient on certain issues. They wouldn't have to worry about being hampered by their own people!

The pleasant meeting concluded.

Dean pulled Lawrence aside and told him they could discuss leading separate teams during the group gathering at his housewarming party over the weekend. This also meant they would no longer be partners.

Lawrence looked somewhat disappointed. After all, working with Dean had been pretty comfortable.

Dean, however, felt no particular attachment to the rough-around-the-edges man; he was far more excited about the evening's banquet.

After all... a taste of the captain should be good.

Eve had chosen a Chinese restaurant, a recently popular trend. It wasn't that Chinese cuisine particularly suited their palates, but rather because it was expensive and novel. Simply put, it was ideal for impressing guests and showcasing one's unique taste.

The clientele at such Chinese restaurants consisted mostly of foreigners, as most Chinese people themselves were reluctant to spend money at such establishments. A simple dish of Mapo Tofu cost $19.90—and this was in 2001. It was outrageously expensive.

Upon arriving, Dean gave Eve's name and was led to a private room. To his surprise, apart from Eve, there was no one else there.

"Captain Eve, don't tell me your subordinates haven't shown enough enthusiasm for you, their new captain."

Eve, dressed in smart business attire that exuded competence, lightly twirled a strand of hair. "I've already arranged to celebrate with them this weekend. Tonight is just for us."

With that, she rang a small bell.

A succession of elaborate dishes was brought in: stir-fried sea cucumber with scallions, sautéed kidneys, garlic-baked oysters...

"Esteemed guests, this is our restaurant's most authentic 'Complete Nourishing Meal.' Please enjoy!" The waitress offered an ambiguous smile, then departed, closing the private room door securely behind her.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Eve, you're playing with fire."

"Then may I turn up the heat?" Eve replied. Saying so, she picked up her briefcase from the floor, took out her captain's uniform and a pair of fluorescent stockings, and began to undress, her eyes smoldering. "Dean, I wonder how good the soundproofing is in this private room. Care to test it?"

「After a hearty meal.」

Dean wiped the sweat from his body and lit a post-coital cigarette.

Eve was a pliant puddle on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, still lost in the afterglow.

It was a pity about the captain's uniform she had just received. It would probably only be used in her room from now on.

It wasn't until the restaurant was about to close that Eve, her legs weak and trembling, finally staggered to her feet. She righteously refused Dean's suggestion to get a room for another round, stating firmly that she wanted to go home.

"Alright, Captain Eve. As your subordinate, I'll personally see you home."

"Thank you. You're a very considerate subordinate. It would be even better if you weren't so rough!"

They exchanged a few more affectionate words.

After Dean had "cleaned up the battlefield," he helped the unsteady Eve to her feet and pushed open the securely closed door of the private room.

A commotion drifted in from outside. Dean sensed something was wrong and glanced downstairs.

Two police cars, their red and blue lights flashing, were parked below, their sirens wailing.

It appeared the restaurant had an incident on its hands.

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