America: The Gear-Up Detective

Two and a half hours ago, in a room at a motel.

Three Asian men with similar hairstyles reminiscent of those from natural childbirth sat together.

One of the men, who looked very young, was Kim Jong-un.

At this moment, Kim Jong-eun sat on the sofa, his legs shaking incessantly, appearing anxious and restless.

"Brother Chongguang...why don't we turn ourselves in? We killed someone!"

The person referred to as "Brother Chongguang" is none other than Jin Chongguang, whom Luo De had previously investigated.

"What's the panic? Nobody goes to that godforsaken place for ten days or half a month. Besides, if the body is put in a barrel and sunk in the lake, who will find it?"

Jin Chongguang held a hamburger in his left hand and a bottle of cola in his right. His already chubby face looked even more greasy under the light.

Another man sat silently by the bed, smoking, watching the two argue.

"We agreed that it was just to scare him... I didn't expect this. It's all your fault. Why did you have to kill him!"

I'm going to turn myself in!

Kim Jong-eun's face grew paler and paler as she spoke.

"Us? Shouldn't you think back carefully and remember who started the fight with him?" Kim Chong-kwang licked his fingers, which were covered in hamburger crumbs, and looked at Kim Jung-eun with disdain.

"You're a top student from UCLA, think about it carefully."

You rented the car, you bought the rope that tied him up, he was killed in the hotel you rented, and his body was also yours... and sank into the lake with me.

Turn yourself in? You think turning yourself in means you won't go to jail? A penniless wretch like you who can't even afford lawyer fees will only end up in the worst prison where you'll be played.

Upon hearing Kim Jung-eun announce his surrender, Kim Chong-kwang and the man sitting by the bed exchanged a subtle glance.

Kim Chong-kwang walked to Kim Jung-eun's side, put his hands on his shoulders, and looked directly into his eyes. "Don't worry, no one will find out. Besides, aren't we planning to leave Los Angeles and leave America?"

"The two of us, especially Luke, he's very experienced, we're sure we can escape."

Behind Kim Jong-un, a tall Korean man named Luke, whose face looked somewhat weathered, stood up and walked up to Kim Jong-un.

Taking advantage of Kim Jung-eun's calmed emotions, Luke spoke in heavily accented English, his voice slightly hoarse, "Jung-eun, the three of us are in the same boat now. We'll need a lot of money to get to other countries."

I know you still have a large student loan and are penniless.

But I remember you mentioned before that you have a beautiful female student who just came from China, and I heard she's very wealthy.

Kim Jung-eun seemed afraid of Luke, shrinking her neck and lowering her head slightly. "Yes, she carries a different designer bag to class every day and is very generous. She must be a rich girl."

A fiery glint flashed in Luke's eyes. "How about this? Haven't you always liked her? Why don't you ask her out for a chat!"

"What? I don't know her at all. We just happened to exchange a few words in a research group, and we..."

"Don't worry, we're leaving anyway. Just arrange to meet her, we just want the money."

As for her people, you can do whatever you want with them. There's no crime more serious than murder, is there?

Luke's words were seductive, but Kim Jung-eun was clearly tempted. As if she had thought of something, a sickly flush appeared on her originally pale face.

Jin Chongguang, who had been silent for a long time, chimed in.

Finally, Kim Jong-eun took out his phone and sent a message.

As the message was successfully sent, Luke, with a sinister look in his eyes, picked up the ashtray on the coffee table behind Kim Jong-eun and smashed it hard against the back of Kim Jong-eun's head.

"Bang!"

......

"Bang!"

The battering ram struck the lock, Hank broke down the door, and Rod followed closely behind with his gun raised.

The first thing I saw was the body lying next to the sofa.

Ignoring it for the time being, the group proceeded to check each room according to the usual procedure.

"Safety."

"Safety."

"Safety."

After confirming that it was safe, the group lowered their guard and began to examine the body.

"It's definitely Kim Jong-un."

Hank took out the photos for comparison.

Rod put on his gloves and put the ashtray, still stained with blood, into the evidence bag.

"The murder weapon has been found. You said the killer didn't even wipe away the bloodstains, so the fingerprints should still be there, right?"

What is this? Internal strife? Double-crossing? Or unequal distribution of spoils?

Rod put his gun back into his waistband and signaled to several backup patrol officers to set up barricades and seal off the room.

Hank was about to make a phone call to update the captain and his team who were still at the police station on the situation.

But before Hank could report, Rod's phone rang, and the caller ID showed: Captain Connor.

Rod and Hank exchanged a glance and quickly answered the phone.

The captain knew the two were on a mission and usually wouldn't call to contact them, as silence must be maintained during a mission to avoid alerting the enemy. Calling now meant there must be some special circumstances.

"team leader?"

"Rhodes, there's something going on. According to intelligence, a few hours ago, Kim Jong-un's phone sent a text message saying they should have left the hotel..."

"Captain, Kim Jong-eun is dead... Yes, I'm sure, the body is right under my nose. It must have been an internal conflict."

On the other end of the phone, Connor said in a deep voice, "That explains it. Our system shows that Jin Chongguang just rented a black BMW using his ID. It turns out they parted ways."

"They've left? Can you find out where they went? Did they leave Los Angeles?"

"No, Kim Jung-eun sent a message before he died, asking to meet one of his classmates. Now that he is dead, the one who asked to meet him must be Kim Chong-gwang."

I'll send you the address; please go to this address instead.

"receive."

The cleanup here was left to the patrol officers who came to help and José, who had just run upstairs.

Rod, Hank, and Jackson then drove off to their next destination.

UCLA is located in the Westwood neighborhood of western Los Angeles, near Beverly Hills and Santa Monica Beach. The area is heavily guarded, with police officers frequently patrolling the area.

In a girls' dormitory on campus, a quiet-looking girl with a cool demeanor sat in a chair, her phoenix eyes focused intently on the assignment on the table, her brows furrowing slightly when she thought of something that troubled her.

Suddenly, a message notification interrupted Liu Qingxi's thoughts. She picked up her phone and looked at it. "Who is this? Oh, it's a classmate from my supervisor's research group whom I added not long ago."

"Are there any issues to discuss? Should we gather? Hmm, everyone should go, then there shouldn't be any problems."

Upon seeing the message about Jin Zhengyin's gathering, Liu Qingxi didn't think much of it. She packed her things, including her tablet, wanting to show the research group members the results she had achieved over the past period.

"It's all Dad's fault. We were doing just fine in China, but he insisted on sending us to America for graduate school. He thinks we're living in the last century. China is just as good as it is."

Despite her inner complaints, Liu Qingxi quickly packed her things.

It was just a casual meeting with classmates to discuss a research topic, and there was no need for her to wear makeup. Liu Qingxi packed her things in five minutes.

I had just opened the dormitory door when my phone rang again.

Looking at the unfamiliar number, Liu Qingxi hesitated slightly before answering the phone, "Hello?"