"You're much smarter than Harry," Dean answered Hawk firmly.

Just a female con artist. It was none of his damn business whether she lived or died. He didn't have that much time to linger in the hospital, playing the waiting game. The core of the case was the printing plate. So, Haver's wife's life or death wasn't important. He was here for two reasons: first, to put on a show for Haver, and second, to figure out what Haver was really up to!

There is no love without reason. He had sabotaged Haver's plans, arrested him, and even intimidated and threatened him. Yet, the man had warned him to be cautious of the Skull Gang before he left, telling him to stay away from the case. That was bullshit. Sure, there were people who repaid kindness for evil, but definitely not an old con artist who had navigated the underworld for years!

Con artists excelled at fabricating stories, using psychological suggestion on their targets to provoke emotions like greed and fear, all as a prelude to their scams. This made Dean realize Haver's reminder might be a psychological suggestion. Its purpose could be to make him wary, ultimately leading him to act according to Haver's desires and achieve the outcome Haver wanted.

Hawk, seeing Dean was dead serious, stared dumbfounded for a few seconds before giving a thumbs-up and saying admiringly, "Impressive!"

As a detective sworn to protect the citizens, instead of thinking about how to protect the victim, he was preparing to disguise himself as a criminal and preemptively target the victim, leaving the actual criminal no room to maneuver.

Regarding that, Hawk could only comment in his mind: Young people sure know how to play!

「...」

Dean donned a white doctor's coat and mask. Accompanied by Harry, who wore a blue nurse's jacket and pushed a small cart, he entered the ward, closing the door securely behind them.

On the hospital bed, a middle-aged woman with a sinister air, her head wrapped in thick bandages and her neck braced, stared blankly at the ceiling.

This person was none other than Haver's wife—Molly.

Molly, having been kicked in the jaw by Dean, not only had a slight dislocation in her neck but also had a swollen and bruised face, looking rather pitiful.

Hearing the noise, she turned her stiff neck with difficulty, her eyes glancing towards the door, and then her pupils contracted.

Something was off! Previously, whenever nurses came to change her dressings or doctors examined her, the door would be left wide open, with patrolling officers accompanying them for surveillance. This time, however, the doctor and male nurse closed the door immediately after entering!

Molly immediately recalled the printing plate that had been taken and the earlier attack.

Before Dean and Harry could approach, she screamed, "Help! Gunman! Help!!!"

Dean had Harry guard the door. Pushing the small cart, Dean approached the bedside. He skillfully picked up a syringe, drawing an unknown liquid into it, and said nonchalantly, "Ms. Molly, you should be shouting 'Fire.' That way, some unlucky soul might rush in to put out the fire. If you shout 'gunman,' anyone who hears will likely play dead like an ostrich burying its head in the sand."

Dean's overwhelming assertiveness completely intimidated Molly.

Staring in horror at Dean, whose eyes were the only part of his face visible, she stammered, "The printing plate is with my husband! Let me go! I'm just a poor housewife. Even if you kill me..."

TAP. TAP.

Two sharp taps interrupted Molly's pleas.

Dean flicked the syringe. Holding the half-filled instrument, he sat beside Molly and grabbed her hand. While tying a rubber tourniquet around her arm, he said, "Your husband says you hid the printing plate. You say your husband took it. Who are we supposed to believe?"

Molly struggled fiercely. But against Dean's brute strength, her struggles were futile. The hand gripping her arm felt like steel, and her efforts only caused her pain without moving it an inch.

Seeing the sharp needle poised over a vein on the back of her hand, she cried out desperately, "FK, I'm not lying to you! It really was Haver! After he killed those counterfeiters, he made Azak and me drive away with the fake money. When we returned to clean up any traces, the printing plate was already gone!"

"Do you take us for fools?" Dean set down the syringe, fiercely grabbed Molly's chin, and said grimly, "That printing plate represents unimaginable wealth. Would you and your son willingly let an outsider like Haver take it from you?"

His rough movement sent a searing pain through Molly's already fractured neck.

She swallowed hard and explained, "Haver said he'd hidden it and would tell us its location once we returned. But when we got back, he insisted we hide the counterfeit money first. Azak, distraught over losing his girlfriend, argued with Haver and left. Only after hiding the counterfeit money did we realize we couldn't contact Azak. I was worried Azak was in danger, so I didn't press Haver about the printing plate. Then you attacked us. So now, neither my son nor I have any idea where Haver hid the printing plate!"

Hearing this, Dean's heart sank.

He released Molly's chin and said coldly, "Then where is your son Azak right now?"

"I don't know." Fearing Dean might not believe her, Molly quickly explained, "I really don't know. You attacked our place so suddenly. Haver said it might be because something we brought back from that basement had a tracker on it. So, we returned all the counterfeit money that same night. Then, we deliberately staged Azak's disappearance to make it look like he'd been murdered. The idea was to get the police involved. After the dust settled, we planned to get rich using that printing plate."

Hearing this, an ominous feeling washed over Dean.

Damn it! Haver claimed they were attacked because Azak secretly kept a phone to find his girlfriend, leading to their exposure. But Molly's story was completely different! That bastard had actually fooled his 'Mind Reading Technique'! He'd met his match! What on earth was Haver plotting?

Just then, his phone rang—RING RING~

Dean's heart sank again as he pulled out his phone. The caller ID showed it was Daisy, the only one on duty at the office.

Dean took a deep breath and answered the call.

There was no sound on the other end.

After a moment of silence, Dean's expression darkened. "Haver, what exactly do you want?"

"As expected from the most promising chief detective in the history of the Los Angeles Police Department." Haver's voice came from the other end. He chuckled lightly, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I had to use a series of genuine and deceptive psychological feints to fool you. Lesser men would indeed be no match for you."

"Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"Don't be hasty. Seeking you out was merely a test. If you pass, not only will your beautiful colleague remain unharmed, but you will also open the door to a new world, offering you a new choice in life..."

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