[Detective Panel]
Character: Dean
Level: 3 (0/400)
Spirit: 11
Strength: 13
Speed: 10
Endurance: 8
Skills: Pistol Proficiency, Interrogation (L2), Blowgun (L2).
Attribute Points: 0
Skill Points: 0
Completed Cases: N/A.
With that, the point allocation was finished.
Strength breeds confidence.
Dean's tightly wound nerves, ever since his return from Las Vegas, had finally relaxed.
He had previously feared the unknown organization behind Santoni because, in his past life, he had been immersed in darkness and knew the terror these organizations represented. And for that very reason, he now truly understood his own current strength!
Strength meant a steady gun. Speed meant a fast gun!
With a gun in hand, Dean was confident. Unless he was ambushed and overwhelmed by an entire organized team, seven or eight ordinary gunmen would be nothing but easy targets for him!
Of course, open attacks are easy to dodge, but hidden threats are hard to defend against.
After letting his ego inflate for a moment, Dean quickly readjusted his mindset.
The Speed attribute primarily manifests as agility in hands and feet, and in reaction time—a perfect complement to firearms. I need to increase my Speed as much as possible in the future... Besides, the Detective Panel requires solving cases to gain Experience Points...
Dean sighed wistfully. It seemed his plan to be an idle freeloader wasn't going to work.
Before obtaining the Detective Panel, even after learning that the organization behind Santoni could pose a threat, Dean had never considered confronting them, only fleeing. He knew that no matter how capable one person was, they couldn't outmatch a bullet from the shadows. Stepping into the spotlight would only draw fire, potentially endangering his family. But now, that might not be true! The Detective Panel had given Dean the assurance he needed.
Perfect, Eve agreed to help me transfer to the Robbery-Homicide Division, essentially the Major Crimes unit. Then, even if I just coast, I can keep getting stronger. I can also learn some case-solving techniques, creating a positive feedback loop. The stronger I get, the easier it is to solve cases, and then I'll become even stronger! Once my status improves, maybe I can even put together my own team... Every level has its own rules. The higher the status and the greater the power, the safer I'll be!
The more Dean thought about it, the brighter his eyes became.
He hadn't entertained these thoughts before, simply because he understood it would be hard to stand out with his previous abilities. Now, he had an ace up his sleeve!
With that thought in mind, Dean took out his phone and dialed Eve's number.
"Dean, can't whatever it is wait until tomorrow...?" Eve's voice came through the phone, tired and weak.
Only then did Dean realize he had gone to bed early the previous night; it was now just past three in the morning.
"Ah... I just saw the message you sent and got a bit excited. Eve, you must be up for a promotion soon, right?"
At the mention of a promotion, Eve's spirits lifted. "Almost there. By the way, Dean, I want you to stay. When the time comes, I'll help you become the deputy team leader."
She was a deputy who had been "air-dropped" into the Narcotics Division. The people under her were all loyal to the old team leader and mostly ignored her. Otherwise, Eve wouldn't have conned Dean, a rookie, into going undercover in the first place. If Dean could come and help me, that would be perfect! I personally visited the cabin in the woods; all seven people had been shot in vital spots. It showed how ruthless and decisive Dean's marksmanship was! I even suspect that if I hadn't gotten involved, Dean would have just made it look like a case of criminals killing each other!
Hearing Eve's words, Dean fell into deep thought. That might actually work. I have leverage over Eve. If I stay in the Narcotics Division, I'd not only have much more freedom but also a smoother path to promotion. However, the cases are the key. I have to solve cases to gain Experience Points, and homicide cases undoubtedly offer more. A mere promotion means little to me. The Narcotics Division is too soft for my taste.
Thinking this, Dean shook his head and said, "Sorry, I'd prefer to join the Robbery-Homicide Division. But Eve, maybe in the future, we could form an alliance..."
"Okay..." Eve sounded a bit disappointed. "When I go to work tomorrow, I'll ask a friend to help transfer your file. As long as the captain of the Robbery-Homicide Division doesn't object, there shouldn't be a problem with you joining."
"Mm."
He hung up the phone.
Dean touched his stomach. He was getting hungry. His physique had strengthened, and his energy expenditure had increased as well.
Luckily, strengthening my body earlier didn't drain much of my own energy; otherwise, I might have been sucked dry like a husk... Dean felt somewhat relieved.
His family was fast asleep.
Dean tiptoed downstairs to look for something to eat, but then...
BANG!
CLUNK! CLANG!
The sudden increase in his strength and speed hadn't been noticeable when he was moving around in the small confines of his room. However, once he stepped out, he found himself either moving too quickly or exerting too much force. He constantly bumped into things and nearly tumbled down the stairs.
I hope I didn't wake Mom and the others...
Dean, being even more careful, opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a slice of bread, and began to eat it hungrily.
Suddenly, the living room lights switched on.
"Who's there!"
The door nearest the staircase on the second floor was pushed open.
His mom, Sheila, holding a shotgun, glanced fiercely towards the kitchen and pumped the weapon's action.
"MMPH!"
Hearing the sound of the shotgun's action, Dean, his mouth stuffed with bread, quickly raised his hands and turned. He was terrified that, having just acquired the Detective Panel, he'd be blasted by his own mother merely for sneaking some bread.
"Huh?"
"Dean?"
Sheila recognized Dean's face. She paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Haha, baby, I thought some intruder had sneaked in! Why didn't you turn on the light?"
Dean swallowed the bread and rolled his eyes. "I didn't want to wake you all up."
"But we're already awake. Wow, Dean, your physique is amazing! Can I touch it?" Sinclair's small head peeked out from the stairway, her eyes fixed admiringly on Dean, who was only wearing boxers.
Dean: "..."
You're only eleven!
Beside him, Sheila whistled and said to Sinclair, "Darling, you've got good eyes. Dean's physique really is great; he looks like he could keep you safe."
Dean: "..."
Just what you'd expect from a rancher's daughter—so bold.
Parents in the United States generally interact with their children more like friends, so they often speak casually and aren't particularly formal.
He had to change the subject. "Keep it down, Thompson is still sleeping..."
"Actually, I'm awake too."
Thompson's voice came from the third floor. He was holding a cocked crossbow, only his head visible as he aimed at the first-floor hall.
If Thompson hadn't spoken up, Dean wouldn't have noticed him at all.
This kid's a real lurker. What kind of family was my predecessor even born into? How did I never notice this before?
Dean was internally speechless. He quickly grabbed his bread and moved aside. "Thompson, point that crossbow away from me! Don't aim it at me!"
"It's just a toy. A small-caliber crossbow with a fifty-meter effective range. Very effective for hunting rabbits, but hardly lethal to humans."
Thompson put away the crossbow, looking enviously at Dean. "Dean, can you teach me how to work out? If I had your figure, Susan would definitely agree to be my girlfriend."
"Then you should eat more meat instead of just vegetables every day." Dean rolled his eyes.
My predecessor actually thought this kid brother was introverted. He's clearly the reserved-but-passionate type!
"Alright, let's all get some rest."
Unable to stand the gaze of the three, Dean grabbed a pile of food and drinks and, under the watchful eyes of his family, made an awkward retreat back to his room, deciding he needed to move out sooner rather than later.