According to the sniper, this operation had some connection to the deputy of Eve's squad, but the deputy was, in fact, also a victim.

Originally, Saddam was an inconspicuous detective in the Narcotics Division. Due to entanglements with a former superior in the military, he had managed to join the Narcotics Division through some connections, but further promotion was difficult. With no other choice, he had to ally himself with the then-deputy, becoming his confidant.

In the Narcotics Division's Second Squad, after Eve became the squad leader, the deputy expressed dissatisfaction multiple times. He and his confidants plotted how to eliminate Eve to prevent her from disrupting their lucrative schemes. This was a chain of profit that had existed for a long time and even included the retired former leader of the Second Squad, who was affiliated with the Carmen Family. If the Carmen Family hadn't inexplicably offended Dean, leading to their swift, physical dismantling, the current situation wouldn't have arisen, even with the former leader retired. But what was done, was done.

The deputy believed that the newly appointed Chief Saul didn't highly value the Narcotics Division. He thought that if he could eliminate Eve and then pledge allegiance to Saul, he might be able to take her place. So, he secretly approached Saddam, hoping Saddam could contact some old military friends to stage a dramatic hijacking of the transport vehicle during this year's disposal of confiscated goods. Such an incident would undoubtedly attract severe scrutiny from the Internal Affairs Department. To maintain secrecy, the deputy didn't inform the subordinates responsible for the escort about this operation.

In other words, everything indeed unfolded as Eve's deputy had planned. But things weren't that simple.

As they say, birds of a feather flock together, and Saddam was no saint either. After learning the quantity and value of the drugs from the deputy, he developed his own ambitions. He first contacted his former comrades. Then, using the deputy's authority, he preemptively swapped the drugs in the warehouse with flour. With the help of Vienna's grandson, who made the switch, he had the real drugs melted into the brick flooring at the Vienna Black Workshop. His plan was to smuggle them out of Los Angeles and sell them in other states once the dust settled.

As for the switched-out flour? That was easy to handle. The snipers' ruthlessness this time—leaving no survivors and choosing a location near the river—was entirely intentional. When the time came, during the police chase, they would set the truck on fire in plain sight and drive it into the sea. This way, Saddam would have an explanation for the deputy without arousing suspicion that he had embezzled the drugs himself. Crucially, this would also eliminate the deputy's subordinates involved in the transport.

Once the deputy managed to oust Eve, Saddam planned to secretly present a collection of prepared evidence to the Internal Affairs Department and backstab the deputy. As for the deputy's fate? Saddam figured he wouldn't have to do a thing. Someone from the existing chain of profit would ensure the exposed deputy was permanently silenced, likely framing it as a "suicide due to fear of prosecution." With the squad leader removed and the deputy having "committed suicide," Saddam, a veteran of the Narcotics Division, could use the proceeds from the drug sales to seize power. Then, he would exploit his position as squad leader to divert confiscated drugs, effectively selling them himself—profiting from both ends of the deal.

What a flawless scheme.

...

"That kid Saddam was always sharp-witted, even back in the military," the sniper said. "His plan convinced us. We started executing it step by step, and everything went smoothly until a small accident occurred."

"A small accident?" Dean narrowed his eyes. "Your product was stolen?"

"You know about that too?!" Surprise flashed across the sniper's face, followed by a look of realization. "I get it! You're the cop who tracked down the Vienna Black Workshop?"

"Never mind who I am. Continue!"

"But I've told you so much," the sniper said, a growing unease in his voice. "Shouldn't you share some information about this 'new world' you mentioned?" For some reason, after recounting the events, his anxiety intensified.

A faint CRACK sounded as Dean clenched his fist. "You satisfy my curiosity, and I'll satisfy yours. That's fair, right?" he tempted.

He wanted to reconfirm if there were any details he had missed.

Seeing Dean's incredible strength—capable of compressing the air in his palm to create a buzzing sound with his bare hands—the sniper's eyes blazed. He forcibly suppressed his unease, a fierce glint in his eyes as he continued, "As you said, an incredibly audacious thief stole some of the defective products we'd made. That scoundrel actually took those drug-laced stone sculptures and put them in an amusement park as prizes for a ring toss game! We weren't concerned about a small quantity of drugs, but those defective items couldn't properly mask the drug's evaporation. This could cause reactions in anyone who came into contact with them, potentially exposing us. So, we dealt with the possible informants.

"But in the end, we were still a step too late. From the interrogation, we learned that a little girl had won many of the stone statues. If it weren't for today's operation, we would have already dealt with her using surveillance footage. It was just that slight delay in finding out. As a result, those cops followed the scent right to the thief's home! DAMMIT! If we hadn't installed surveillance in that thief's house, we would've been completely exposed."

Dean listened and nodded. That was right. Everything connected now.

"Well, seeing as you've been honest, I'll send you to the new world right now," Dean said, placing his hand on the sniper's shoulder.

"Send?" The sniper looked at Dean, confused, suspecting he had misspoken.

The next moment, a tremendous force crushed his neck. The poor sniper barely registered what was happening before darkness enveloped him, and he lost consciousness completely.

...

Dean dropped the sniper's body, its neck grotesquely twisted, to the ground. He wiped his hands and said coolly to the corpse, "The little girl you wanted to deal with happens to be my sister. So don't blame me for sending you to Hell. After all, for scum like you, Hell truly is a new world!"

He was a kind man and never lied to those about to die.

This sniper had intended harm toward his sister and had witnessed his inhuman capabilities. Both by sentiment and reason, he had to die. Not just him. The remaining operative with severed limbs, Saddam, and that deputy—they all had to be dealt with properly. Even if the chances of retaliation were slim, Dean didn't like leaving loose ends. However, he needed to handle the immediate repercussions first.

Dean took out his phone and called Little Mike. Due to the earlier gunfight, there were no passersby left. The only witness, the sniper, now had his neck twisted like a pretzel, unable to slander him. However, the roadside surveillance cameras were still operational, and that's where Little Mike's help was needed.

After making the arrangements, Dean picked up the body and hid it in an inconspicuous corner of the building, planning to return later that night to dispose of it. He then cleaned up some minor traces in the area before heading back the way he came.

...

At the crossroads, several patrol cars had already arrived. Carlo was liaising with them.

Seeing Dean return, Carlo immediately approached to report, "Boss, everyone from the Narcotics Division is dead. The robbers are all dead too."

"All dead?" Dean frowned. He had definitely left one alive.

Carlo understood Dean's unspoken question and said helplessly, "The robber in the truck—I suspect he had special forces experience. He had a morphine capsule hidden in his mouth. So, even though his limbs were practically useless, he still managed to shoot himself." Carlo then added, his expression worried, "I also thought I heard a sniper rifle earlier. This case is probably far more troublesome than we anticipated, Boss. What should we do next?"

Although Carlo hadn't witnessed Dean's actions firsthand while dodging bullets, the gruesome state of the three robbers clearly indicated Dean's capabilities. There was a newfound reverence in Carlo's tone and demeanor.

"The more you do, the more mistakes you make; the less you do, the fewer mistakes," Dean said pointedly. "I'll report this incident. Next, prepare for questioning by the Internal Affairs Department."

The four-man combat team, completely wiped out. The previous case involving the annihilation of the thief's family hadn't registered as 'solved' on his interface yet. Dean suspected Saddam was also involved, hence the status. But he didn't plan to intervene further. Every time he acted, there were casualties. Monet had already spoken to him, planning to arrange some time off for him to catch up on his overdue psychological evaluations. He'd leave the rest for Eve to handle herself.

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