North American Detective: I Am Proficient In All Kinds of American IAI

"you're awake?"

Just as Dean was sorting out the information in his mind, a woman's voice came from the side.

Dean turned his head slightly, and found an aunt in a white coat, leading two strong prison guards, into the room.

Big Mom looked at Dean with undisguised disgust.

But look at the attitude of the prison guards.

These two guys obviously had no defense against Dean.

Dean got up and touched his head: "Yes, I woke up, what happened to me? I don't know why, I feel dizzy in my head, and I seem to forget what happened before."

He still doesn't know what's going on here.

It is undoubtedly a better choice to control your mouth and adapt to the situation.

As a result, Dean was overthinking.

A prison guard who was following the female doctor casually said, "There was a bloody conflict in your room. As the lucky ones, you and another person are the only survivors, but this luck is up to now. In fact, even if you If you haven't woken up yet, we are going to move you to a new room."

talking.

The two stepped forward, put handcuffs and ankles on Dean, half pulled and half supported, and took him outside.

The wind blows the sand and beats it in the face.

Dean subconsciously raised his hands to cover his eyes, and at the same time looked at the scene outside through the gaps between his fingertips.

This should still be a prison.

Dilapidated walls, messy withered plants, and small whirlwinds of khaki dust everywhere.

The spiritless prison guard, with an automatic rifle on his waist and a small pineapple hanging on his waist, hides in the shade and is lazy. On the highest watchtower, the prison guard actually sleeps in a hammock, blowing in the wind.

This prison is not only dilapidated, but compared with those private prisons in the United States, it is completely the difference between an urban apartment and a brick house in the country!

Walk through the empty hallway outside the infirmary.

One of the prison guards opened the door further inside, revealing an open-air square.

This should be a place for the prisoners to relax.

There are some crude fitness equipment, a gravel track, some seats, and you can see some prisoners in small groups, smoking some cigarettes with unknown ingredients, laughing and beating, and the atmosphere of Dean's previous prison is completely different. .

There are also prison guards patrolling here.

I saw my companion escorting a thin man in.

A prison guard, who was chatting with the prisoner, straightened his crooked hat, and greeted him: "Bob, is this the unlucky guy who survived Basar's hands?"

The prison guard who escorted Dean shrugged: "Yes, you can arrange a random room for him first. When Basar returns to normal, this guy needs to be sent there."

The two, in front of Dean, discussed Dean's next fate nonchalantly.

When Dean heard this, his pupils shrank.

What the hell?

Wait for that fat man to return to normal, and continue to send himself back to the other side?

This is not a normal thing!

In any prison in any country, if something like that happened before, then for the sake of the stability of the prison, even if these prison guards are too lazy to pursue it, most of them will choose to solve the thorns or detain them alone instead of continuing to send people to that kind of danger Guy's side, waiting for the next bomb to go off.

unless

The existence of that fat man is to help the prison to deal with some prisoners who need to be dealt with!

Reminiscent of this body, before entering this prison, a group of Mexican anti-narcotics officers suddenly rushed out, slandered him for killing four members of his friend's family, and sent him to prison.

Dean realized that the reason why he was sent to be a roommate with that fat Basar was because of the special care of those anti-narcotics police.

Those bastards want to shut themselves up!

Think here.

Dean's eyes flashed fiercely.

Too much deception!

Wait until the prison guard named Bob leaves.

The prison guard who took over Dean first took a look at Dean's thin figure, then shook his head, and said directly: "Man, although I sympathize with you, sympathy is sympathy, and business is business. Next, you have thought about it." Is it more comfortable, or is it more meaningful to think about it?"

Dean raised his head: "Please explain in detail."

"It's very simple, if you let us make money, then you are our God, whether it's safety, high drugs, women, men, or even going out for a while, we can help you solve it!"

Dean frowned.

The owner of this body is a half-baked street detective. Although he also has some business helping men get divorced, they are all low-end clients.

Moreover, the market for this kind of business is not big in the chaotic Mexico.

So essentially.

He is a pauper.

He had no choice but to continue to ask: "What if there is no money?"

"No money?"

The prison guard showed a strange smile on his face: "Then you will become a commodity, and I will send you to the room of some prisoners in need to be imprisoned, and I will help the other party to get you, after all, they paid for it!"

Fuck!

Dean couldn't help cursing in his heart.

Is there still a king's law?

He couldn't help but look at the semi-automatic rifle on the prison guard's waist!

As expected of drug lords walking everywhere, gangsters are not as good as dogs in Mexico.

Even in such an old and dilapidated prison, the prison guards patrolling are equipped with semi-automatic rifles, and they seem to carry small pineapples and other items with them, with plenty of firepower.

Or, just grab the gun and kill him?

Although this body is very useless, Dean is still confident with his fighting skills. In the case of a sneak attack, within a breath, he can get rid of the old frivolous prison guard in front of him.

But Dean quickly dismissed the idea.

If it was a real body, he would have the confidence to shoot each person one by one and forcefully kill them.

Forget it now.

I don't know how many prison guards there are here. Heavy machine guns are clearly erected on the tower cranes outside. Coupled with the unfamiliar terrain, there are iron fences everywhere.

Taking the gun is likely to be a dead end.

That being the case

Dean took a deep breath and said calmly, "I'm sorry, I'm just a poor man, but I have value!"

The prison guard raised his eyebrows slightly: "Tell me!"

He is best at squeezing the last drop of oil and water from prisoners.

Especially this kind of unlucky guy who is basically dead and has no background!

"I need to know your name!", Dean said bluntly: "Besides, I don't want to stand here and be seen as an animal by a group of people. If possible, I hope we can go to a quiet environment, and then we can have a meeting again." Refresh yourself with a cigarette, I promise, you won't be disappointed in the end!"

The prison guard didn't care about Dean's tone, and shrugged: "Well, you can call me Batu, I hope you don't lie to me, or I will send you to Rab's room, that guy's brother is full of Cauliflower, you will never like it."

talking.

Batu waved to a companion, motioning for him to take his place, and then led Dean to the public cafeteria here.

It's not meal time.

Except for some wiped clean tables and chairs, the cafeteria was empty.

Batu threw an unknown brand of cigarette in front of Dean, then took out a box of matches, and pushed it over: "Dude, you have time for a cigarette, show your worth."

Dean calmly took out a cigarette, lit it skillfully, and took a deep breath habitually, but he coughed directly from choking, which made his calmness become a joke.

Damn it!

The original owner of this body did not smoke at all!

This is really a good habit!

But the poor physical performance also made Dean's psychological guidance become a joke just at the beginning.

Seeing this, Batu smiled disdainfully: "Wow, your embarrassed appearance reminds me of when I was ten years old, I secretly smoked my father's cigarettes and wanted to pretend to be an adult in front of my companions."

Dean threw away the cigarette in his hand speechlessly, and knocked on the table without changing his expression: "I just want to try to change myself. The recent encounters made me realize that timidity will only make my already bad life become worse. Worse."

"I don't want to hear your life insights!"

Batu got up, twisted his neck, the scorpion tattoo on the neck, accompanied by the creaking of the bones, squirmed and swung the hook, as if it was about to attack: "So, Mr. Dean, what is your so-called value? "

This feeling of being slaughtered by others is really uncomfortable.

Dean suppressed the anger in his heart, and sighed: "Actually, I am a low-level detective on the surface, but I am also a pharmacist secretly."

"pharmacist?"

Batu, who wanted to put pressure on him, became interested when he heard the words: "Wow, this is an uncommon occupation. Can you concoct drugs?"

In Mexico, drugs are like weeds on the roadside, everywhere.

And turning those raw materials into finished products that are equivalent to a beautiful knife requires the skills of those poison makers.

For the same material, under the preparation of different levels of poison makers, the price of the final finished product may vary several times.

So if the prisoner in front of him really knows how to concoct drugs, then it is indeed very valuable.

Although Batu does not do flour business.

But he can sell people!

Mature poison makers are always in short supply in the land of Mexico!

Dean shook his head directly: "I don't know how to do this!"

Batu's face darkened: "Are you kidding me?"

You don't know how to make poison, so you want to tell me that you can make medicine?

This damn thing is worthless!

Seeing that Batu was about to get angry again, Dean took out a match without haste, and said calmly, "Although I don't know how to make poison, I am a software hardening engineer!"

"Software hardening engineer?"

Batu listened to this unfamiliar vocabulary, doubts flashed in his sinister eyes.

Didn't you mean the pharmacist? Why did you mention the engineer again?

wrong!

He suddenly thought of something: "You mean, a man's software is hardened?"

Dean glanced at the place where Batu hung the sausage, and nodded with a chuckle: "Yes, the effect is remarkable, and the raw materials are cheap. The only difficulty is that the operation is very demanding, and the other is that it does not cause little harm to the body."

He is going to take Wei Ge's formula from Xiao Mike in exchange for freedom.

In fact, Dean can also do some basic drug making.

But this is Mexico.

A good drug maker is more likely to be controlled by those drug lords and become a production tool, and it is impossible for him to move freely.

Therefore, using Weige's formula, which is not low in profit, but complex in preparation, cannot be easily imitated, and will not attract hostility from colleagues in Mexico, has become Dean's first choice!

Heard Dean's affirmative reply.

Batu's expression flickered on and off.

If what this guy said is true, then a fortune is absolutely indispensable.

As the saying goes, people can't help themselves when they reach middle age.

Although a man is a teenager until his death, no matter how old he is, his original intention remains the same, but the helplessness of body changes is not a firm heart of seeking the way, which can be reversed.

Drugs that can harden software have become the key to their dreams.

The market for this thing is no smaller than drugs, and it is legal and compliant. Once it is really useful, it can immediately achieve a monstrous wealth!

But is it possible?

Batu gave a negative answer in his heart!

impossible!

It is impossible for anyone who owns this kind of formula to be penniless and be thrown into his own garbage disposal prison without any resistance by the anti-narcotics police as a performance, ready to destroy it.

So this guy is stalling for time!

"Damn bastard, how dare you entertain me!"

Batu cursed angrily in his heart, clenched his fists, and his eyes became fierce again, trying to let the thin man in front of him know what would happen if he angered him.

Dean interrupted his spellcasting with a word: "You think I'm lying to you, and you're going to miss your only chance to change your life!"

Don't give Batu a chance to react.

Dean shook his head in disappointment, and continued:

"Actually, before all this happened, I was terrified to take this thing out.

Because I know what I can do.

Once you have uncontrolled wealth, there is a high probability that after making some noise, the corpse will appear in a certain stinky ditch one day.

So I have a treasury, but I dare not touch a cent.

But I don't have a choice now.

You too, Batu!

You seem to have lived a very dignified life in prison, but in fact you lived a very depressed life. You neither dared to offend those prisoners with background drug lords, nor dared to bully those gangsters at will.

They have money and guns, and they can live comfortably even in prison.

Instead, you prison guards.

Although you take care of them, you can only watch them eat and play well.

In contrast,

You are actually the ones in jail!

But now it's different!

you met me!

Batu!

I will now give you the key to the vault!

Do you choose to take a gamble and change your life where you can see the end at a glance from now on, or choose to take out the baton on your waist for a moment of pleasure, and personally destroy my life that changes your destiny? "

When language becomes a weapon.

So Dean, who has superb micro-expression and psychoanalysis ability, is the player who holds the cheat in this battle.

Every word he said was guiding Batu: Dude, I can change your destiny, but if you are angry and don't try, you are ruining the only turning point in your life.

No matter how Batu chooses.

yes or no!

He actually fell into the psychological hint in Dean's words: I am the key to the vault!

But Dean believed.

Barton, who was greedy in his bones, would not refuse this gamble.

Because compared to winning bets.

The cost of chips is really negligible.

really.

After listening to Dean's words, Batu clenched his fists, looked at him for a long time, and then exhaled, solemnly said: "I choose to gamble. If you lose, you will know what cruelty is!"

"Congratulations on finding a shortcut in life, Barton, happy cooperation!"

Dean chuckled and held out his hand, which was still wearing a strap.

"Happy cooperation!"

Barton held Dean's hand hesitantly, and added: "Your confidence makes me feel that my choice is right, so what do you need me to do for you?"

Waiting for this sentence!

Dean knew that he was safe for the time being!

This damn dungeon mission seems simple, but in fact, it is really a crisis every step of the way!