Chapter 293 Evolution, Return to Los Angeles

"Speed, increase!"

Dean stood in front of the big mirror in the bathroom, wearing shorts, and muttered in his heart.

Attribute points: 1→0.

Speed: 15→16.

Accompanying the disappearance of the attribute points just obtained.

A tingling sensation surged from all over the body.

Dean looked in the mirror, his pupils shrank slightly.

I saw the meridians hidden in the skin and flesh, twisting, stretching, and spreading under the skin and flesh as if they had their own consciousness.

Horror, evil.

Even though Dean was mentally strong, he still felt his scalp tingling after witnessing this change in his body, worrying that he would be transformed into a prehistoric monster.

This weird situation lasted for more than a minute before it calmed down.

Just when Dean thought the change was over.

A message appeared in his mind: the proliferation of the pre-tissue has been completed (120%), the gene is being mined, and the evolution is expected to be completed in 20 hours.

Come again?

Dean didn't expect that the physical improvement after breaking the limit this time would be so great!

Before he could react.

A warm current accompanied by a dizzy feeling came one after another.

Dean shook his head, forced himself to put on his pajamas, and didn't bother to return to bed. He could only stumble and fall on the nearest sofa, curled up and fell into a coma.

Under the warm current, his body temperature rose at a very unscientific rate, and in areas that could not be seen by the naked eye, some genes that had been dormant for countless years were awakened by unknown forces, broken and reorganized, integrated into the existing body structure, and then rapidly proliferated in his body at an incomprehensible speed.

In a coma, Dean had a dream.

A strange and real dream.

He dreamed that he was in a huge forest, jumping and galloping at an exaggerated speed and extremely flexible, avoiding the pursuit of some terrifying beasts, or hunting some thinner beasts.

The two scenes kept changing.

The picture gradually blurred.

In the end, all the dreams turned into a strange feeling of falling, which made Dean kick his feet instinctively in his sleep.

"Ouch~"

A miserable scream woke Dean up from his sleep.

He stood up suddenly and subconsciously went to the direction of the sound to trigger the bullets collected in the subspace. Everything in his sight appeared in his mind like a slow motion:

The unlucky Cheston, holding his stomach, opened his mouth, with a distorted and hideous expression on his face, soaring in the air in the posture of a lobster, and hit the heavy TV counter hard.

Thanks to this magical reaction speed.

Dean stopped the bullet that was about to be fired in time, saving the life of Cheston who was kicked away.

"Sorry, Cheston"

Dean looked at Cheston with blood on the corner of his mouth with an apologetic look on his face, and was taken away by the ambulance.

It turned out that when Cheston delivered the meal, he found Dean lying on the sofa, sleeping soundly.

He thought that Dean was too tired before, so he didn't disturb him, but watched by the side. As a result, when he wanted to go forward to help Dean tuck the quilt, he just met Dean's kick.

If his foot had not just touched Cheston's stomach, causing most of the power not to burst out, Dean estimated that he would really kick Cheston to death in his sleep and complete the achievement of killing in a dream.

"Speaking of which, that kind of dream of falling seems to have appeared when I was growing up before."

Dean looked down at his trouser legs that had obviously shortened by an inch, shook his head, and returned to the room.

He noticed.

When he approached, the two FBI operations department members who had been standing at the door to guard him before, their bodies tensed, and their hands unconsciously touched their waists, completely treating him as some dangerous people with unstable mental states.

After entering the room.

Dean had time to carefully feel the changes in his body.

The extent of this change was far beyond his imagination.

If the attribute points before breaking the limit were still considered within the scope of humans, then now he was definitely beginning to enter the extraordinary evolution.

Not to mention the subtle enhancement of all aspects of the body.

Dean found that his body coordination and explosiveness were at least twice as fast as before, which was already abnormal. When he focused on an object, he even had an illusion that time was slowing down.

For example:

Dean picked up a pen on the table and threw it into the air. Then his palm drew a not-so-obvious afterimage, and repeatedly and accurately touched the pen tip, maintaining the magical scene of the pen spinning in the air but not falling.

This seems to be just a trick.

But only by controlling the power and the body's reaction, and grasping it almost perfectly, can this effect be achieved.

"It's getting more and more inhuman. I don't know if I can master the nerve reaction speed similar to bullet time if I continue to strengthen it like this and the speed attribute reaches the limit of 20 points"

Dean thought about it for a moment, gathered his mind, and looked at the panel again.

"【Violent Detective Panel】

Character: Dean

Level: 21 (0/4000)

Spirit: 15 (Locked)

Strength: 15

Speed: 16

Endurance: 15

Skills: Pistol Mastery, Ancient Muay Thai Mastery, Achaz School-Mind Reading L3, Trace Tracking L3, Taming Beast L1, Omitted (Click to open).

Features: Beast Body!

Subspace: 2 cubic meters

Attribute points: 0

Skill points: 4

Completed cases: omitted. "

"The remaining four skill points are enough for me to upgrade a skill to at least professional level L3. However, it seems that there is no suitable choice yet, and my current learning ability is also very strong. These skill points are reserved for emergency updates. suitable."

Dean thought for a moment and ended this strengthening.

Shortly after Cheston was taken to the hospital.

A woman, protected by two fully armed police officers, knocked on Dean's door.

"Hello, I'm Fana, the supervisor of the branch here. Can we chat now?"

Fana is a very beautiful blond woman, about thirty years old, wearing red mahogany glasses and a slightly serious business attire, but her tight clothes undoubtedly tell outsiders that she has something.

Dean looked her up and down with a smile on his face: "Of course, but if you bring two brothers behind you, wouldn't it be too exaggerated?"

"No exaggeration at all."

Fana shook her finger: "Agent Dean, in your previous actions, one person killed more than twelve people. Basically, more than three people were killed in one blow. You experienced cruel torture before death, and just now , Your companion was also sent to the hospital by your kick. The doctor said that he doesn’t have a month to get out of bed.”

At this point, she retracted her foot that was about to step into Dean's room and took a deep breath: "Forget it, you are too dangerous, I'd better talk to you at the door!"

Dean shrugged: "You say."

Fana waved her hand, and after the two stupid and strong men behind her stepped aside with guns in hand, she lowered her voice and said: "Your actions have made me very passive. Don't tell me that you want me to wipe your butt! "

She deliberately waited a few days before coming to see Dean, just to let Dean find a relationship on his own and deal with some of the troubles behind the organ factory.

Fana stayed well in this remote city.

She didn't want to provoke dangerous people like Dean, nor did she want Dean to ruin her peaceful life.

But now it seems.

This guy seems to have nothing to do with it.

Dean spread his hands: "What's the trouble?"

Fana took out a photo: "This man's name is Swande. He has several identities, including a city councilman, a medical professional, and some more complicated identities. The case of the organ factory is completely over, but your troubles ,just began!"

Those organs and the channels of flow are too complicated.

This includes beneficiaries, medical capital, and local governments. Even the FBI will not be stupid enough to continue digging deeper after solving the case.

Dean looked at Fana and raised his eyebrows: "Thanks for reminding me, what do you want me to do?"

"Leave!" Fana said in a serious tone: "I will apply to the headquarters to suspend you. This is responsible for your safety and my safety."

She said very straightforwardly: "I suggest you leave tomorrow morning. At least now they dare not take action, but when the headquarters comes up with a solution, you may be safe in the city, but when you leave, When you die."

Dean nodded: "I understand, help me take care of my companions."

"No problem, he will be well taken care of."

Fana said, hesitatingly: "Thank you for your cooperation. If you have other needs, I will try my best to satisfy you."

Dean looked at the two well-armed men behind Fana and grinned: "Help me prepare some chicks. I want to relax before I leave."

Fana is a funny person.

She actually found two women of good quality for Dean.

Night falls.

Two white girls in cool clothes knocked on Dean's door.

This made the two guards guarding Dean miserable.

They endured the howling of ghosts and wolves for most of the day before the soundproofed room fell into dead silence.

"This bastard finally stopped!"

One person cursed unhappily.

His companion nodded in agreement: "Be patient, he will go away tomorrow. This is the first time I have seen Director Fana be so friendly to a person."

"What kind of friendliness?" The guard who spoke before smiled disdainfully.

If she was really friendly, Fana wouldn't let the guy in the room drive away secretly in advance.

This is obviously to get rid of trouble.

He gloated: "That's because the bastard inside provoked Swande. That guy is a hypocritical and cruel person. I bet that the guy in the room will not survive tomorrow afternoon."

While the two guards were muttering.

Dean had already followed the hotel window, like Spider-Man, grabbing the edge of the wall with his bare hands, falling layer by layer, directly from the top of more than thirty floors to the ground.

What a bullshit big shot!

What a threat!

He likes to nip threats in the bud.

Leave the hotel.

Dean wore a night suit taken out of space, took out an unused mobile phone, and dialed a number in New York.

This is the number he left when he went to New York to buy arms.

A sweet female voice came from the other end of the phone: "Hello, this is Dad's Grocery Store. What does the customer need?"

"A sandwich cookie, hurry up!" Dean said in a low voice.

Sandwich cookies are intelligence.

As for fruit, it’s arms.

After a moment of pause, the sweet female voice turned into a cold and professional tone: "Please provide the ingredients."

"Swande, Swande Crosby from XX city in XX state, he is a medical broker. I need his most accurate information and location right now!"

This time, the pause was longer.

Dean waited for five minutes before he heard the woman's response again: "Guest, his identity is very sensitive. If you are sure you need it, please transfer 500,000 US dollars to this account within ten minutes."

The phone was hung up.

A bank account text message was sent to Dean.

Dean immediately called another transatlantic phone and transferred the money through his mobile phone.

Half an hour later.

An address appeared in Dean's hand.

Midnight.

Dean was sleeping soundly with the tired soft girl in his arms.

Bang~

The door of the room was knocked open.

Fana and a group of people appeared in front of him with a bad look.

She scanned the room with sharp eyes, and then looked at Dean and the two women on the bed, and then said suspiciously: "Agent Dean, just half an hour ago, Swand was killed in the XX club. For safety reasons, you must leave now."

Dean yawned, and his sleepy face showed the displeasure of being woken up: "That bastard is dead, why should I leave?"

"I'm very angry now, don't mess with me!"

Fana's eyes were blazing.

Although the people she arranged could ensure that Dean had not left, the woman's intuition told her that Swand's death was related to Dean!

Fana didn't want to get involved in trouble.

She just wanted Dean to get out of her territory now!

Under her people'escort, Dean could only say goodbye to the gentle big bed, go to the hospital to say goodbye to Cheston, and then reluctantly drove out of the city.

A few days later.

He was exhausted all the way.

Dean returned to Los Angeles, where he had been away for several months.

Considering that the troubles on the mayor's side had not been resolved.

Without notifying anyone, he quietly returned to the safe house he had prepared in advance. After making an appointment with An Bei, he opened the computer in the safe house and prepared to check the feedback from the FBI.

As expected.

He was suspended.

Dean did not feel any regret about this.

When he really got involved, he discovered the limitations of the FBI.

It took a long time to solve old cases, and the cost-effectiveness was very low.

Major cases often involve too many people.

Many major cases led by the FBI are actually just an extension of politics and a necessary means to maintain interests.

In short.

Dean was not happy during this period.

He missed the days of solving cases in Los Angeles.

Turn off the email.

Dean searched for news about Swand.

He killed the other party with his own hands.

This was also the first time Dean used the subspace to kill someone.

It was simple beyond his expectation: he just disguised himself as a waiter of the club, found Swand who was drinking alone, and across more than a dozen tables, he moved his mind, and a bullet appeared out of thin air, and the other party was shot in the head.

The bullets released by the subspace are silent, leaving no trace, and the power is not weakened at all. It is a real means of killing people invisibly.

No matter how many undercurrents there are behind Swand's death.

At least on the surface, the death of Swand, the big man mentioned by Fana, is a big noise but little effect.

"What should I do next?"

The agent has nothing to do for the time being, and he has been suspended from the FBI again.

I am a little confused.

Dean thought about it, took out his mobile phone, and called Neil.

When you are in doubt, make a decision first.

This plot has been in the small black room. I want to end it early, so I wrote it sloppily.