Hawk's hesitation turned into resolve. What Dean is talking about, he realized, is actually 'trust.' If I listen to him, I'll gain his support. Otherwise, while he might not necessarily suppress me, it also means our relatively close relationship ends here.

Considering the capabilities and working style Dean has shown recently... Hawk clenched his fists. He turned to his companions, who were playing dumb, and said irritably, "Let's go. You're lucky today; Captain Dean is treating. We'll leave this to the hospital's security."

A relatively less seasoned patrol officer asked worriedly, "Boss, what about the dispatch record?"

"What dispatch record?" Hawk spread his hands. "Were we even at the hospital today?"

"No."

"Nope, heh heh!"

「On the way back to the precinct.」

The atmosphere inside the car was somewhat silent.

Harry leaned against the window, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. He knew Dean would ask if he needed help, Harry thought. Otherwise, it's best to keep quiet.

CLICK.

The sound of the lighter was crisp. Dean rolled down his window. With a cigarette in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, he exhaled a puff of smoke. "Harry," he said, a touch of melancholy in his voice, "if you faced a threat, what would you do?"

Harry's answer surprised Dean. He said earnestly, "If it's just a minor issue and the other party has a decent reputation, then I'd compromise. But if someone threatened my family's lives, I'd find the person making the threats and kill them!"

"That doesn't sound like you."

"But it's the best way to handle it."

Harry stared at the passing cars, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in memories. "The street where I lived as a child had a pretty decent gang leader. The people on that street all liked him. He protected us. But in the end, his entire family was wiped out. The reason was that members of a gang from another street broke into his house and threatened him with his family. He compromised. The next day, the forensics team carried away the brutally tortured bodies of his entire family. From that day on, I knew: compromise doesn't earn you mercy."

Dean exhaled another cloud of smoke and nodded. "You're right. Compromise is useless. Responding to violence with violence, an eye for an eye—that's the best solution."

Within someone else's framework, even if my marksmanship were godlike, I'd still just be a puppet on strings. The best way to break the game isn't to follow the opponent's plan, but to step off the chessboard and eliminate the player directly! Threaten me? Not a chance!

「At this moment.」

Central Precinct, Fourth Squad's headquarters floor.

Haver sat comfortably in Dean's captain's chair, feet propped up. He smirked as he watched Daisy, who was tied up spread-eagle, unable to move, glaring daggers at him.

He loved this feeling of completely dominating someone else. Whether through verbal manipulation or physical violence, it brought him immense satisfaction. It was this twisted pursuit that led him to join the Lucifer Game Organization without hesitation upon discovering it. He constantly helped with some of their 'purification games,' devising strategies, planning the purification process, and evading police pursuit.

Of course, for safety's sake, Haver had never considered getting too deeply involved with the Lucifer Game Organization. A tall tree catches the wind. To him, the Lucifer Game Organization was merely a platform to indulge his private desires and acquire resources. He didn't want to get in too deep.

"MMPH!"

Daisy glared at the detestable, leering, middle-aged man with his receding hairline. He eyed her like a lamb for the slaughter. Far from afraid, she was filled with immense anger, her chest swelling so much with rage it felt like her bra was a size too small. Cursing silently, she ignored the pain in her limbs and struggled violently. Finally, one of Daisy's long legs snapped the clear tape binding it, and she kicked out at Haver.

Haver dodged the flying high heel with an easy tilt of his head, his gaze sweeping regretfully over Daisy's slender legs. "You should be grateful I'm almost sixty," he said. "Otherwise, I'd have turned you into a 'love' doll and taken you home to play with at my leisure."

"GRRAAAH!"

Veins throbbed on Daisy's hands and feet from pure rage. She wanted to curse Haver and his entire lineage, but with her mouth gagged, she could only produce muffled, incoherent sounds.

Right now, she desperately hoped Dean or Harry would miraculously appear and riddle this disgusting creep with bullets. This damned bastard! He took advantage of my sympathy, tricked me into chatting with him, and then, in a daze, I helped him unlock his handcuffs and even gave him water and snacks!

After Haver had eaten and drunk his fill, he easily subdued her. He then removed the restraints on her limbs, leading to the current predicament.

Thinking of this humiliating incident, Daisy, an otherwise unflappable and broad-minded woman, felt no fear of death—only a burning desire to take Haver down with her! Oh, right. If only I could delete the chat history on my computer, that would be even better... The thought of the Internal Affairs Department potentially going through her computer after her death made Daisy clench her fists so tightly they crackled.

POP! With sheer force, she snapped the clear tape binding one of her arms.

Haver shot to his feet. He snatched the pistol from the table and threatened, "You filthy bitch! If you move again, I'll break your limbs, strip you naked, and throw you onto the street!"

Daisy ripped the filthy rag from her mouth. "You bastard!" she spat viciously. "You actually stuffed that disgusting thing in my mouth! I'll kill you!"

Go on, shoot, if you have the guts! she thought. Then this bastard won't be able to escape either!

"Shut up!"

This is still the Central Precinct, after all. Haver worried that too much noise would attract employees from other floors. He quickly took a crude battery-like device from his pocket, moved behind Daisy, and, as she struggled to free herself, pressed it against her neck.

An electric current surged through her. Though not overwhelmingly powerful, it was enough to make Daisy's body convulse. Her previously dry stockings were once again soaked by an uncontrollable warm gush.

"Lost control again!" Haver wrinkled his nose in disgust. He grabbed some yellow packing tape from nearby, retied Daisy, and snapped, "If you don't want tomorrow's Los Angeles Chronicle to feature a headline about a policewoman tortured until she wet herself, then you'd better behave!"

"Screw you!" Daisy cursed weakly, the electric shock still affecting her.

Compared to those explicit, perverted chat logs on my computer, this bit of dignity is nothing! she thought.

"Crazy bitch!" Haver muttered, settling back into his seat.

He'd never actually considered killing Daisy. That wasn't realistic. Besides, killing an active-duty officer inside the precinct would be like taking a dump on the entire Los Angeles police force, making them a laughingstock across the United States. Haver never did such pointless things. The only reason he hadn't left yet was to ensure Dean's cooperation. Molly's location had already been leaked by the organization's peripheral members. It wouldn't take long for the Skull Gang to show up at the hospital. Whatever the outcome there, by the time that bastard Dean dealt with those people, he'd be long gone.

Speaking of which, I think I detected signs of the Akatz School's mind-reading techniques in that young Captain Dean. Otherwise, he wouldn't have noticed something was off with me, forcing me to take the risk of waiting here.

With that thought, Haver took out his phone, intending to reconfirm his backup plan one more time, just to prevent things from going sideways.

Suddenly, Haver sensed something was wrong. It's too quiet! He put down his phone and looked quizzically at the bound Daisy. Why has she stopped cursing?

One look, and Haver's heart lurched. Daisy, having regained some strength, was staring wide-eyed directly behind him. Her beautiful eyes were a mixture of surprise, angry embarrassment, and... something else.

Fuck! Alarmed, Haver tossed his phone aside and lunged for the pistol on the table.

The next instant, a tremendous force slammed into him.

CRACK!

Blood splattered across the thick wooden desk as it dented and splintered, Haver's head nearly embedded in its surface.

Dark red blood gushed from Haver's nostrils. His eyes were wide, lips trembling. He tried to speak but felt his body being lifted, weightless, then slammed down again.

THUD!

Haver's consciousness plunged into darkness.

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