Luke Johnson said, "Don't ever call me a bastard again."

"Oh... how did you know?" Little Jack looked a bit guilty. Ever since his New Year's money was swindled away, he had indeed called Luke Johnson a bastard behind his back, but he was always too afraid of getting beaten up to say it to his face.

"I'm a cop."

"I can guarantee that the words 'brother' and 'bastard' will be like two parallel lines from now on—never crossing paths again."

Luke Johnson put on his helmet. "Good, get on."

"I've been wanting to try this for ages, and this is the first time you've invited me." Little Jack got on the back seat of the motorcycle, and the tire was noticeably flat.

Luke Johnson twisted the throttle, and the Harley let out a roar.

Little Jack looked eager to try: "You know, I'd rather ride the Harley myself than sit in the back."

Luke Johnson laughed, "Keep dreaming."

...

Saturday morning.

Detective Bureau.

At nine o'clock in the morning, Luke Johnson arrived at the Robbery and Homicide Division right on time.

The atmosphere in the office was a bit tense.

David Smith glanced at Luke Johnson. "I thought you wouldn't come in today."

Normally, if there are no urgent cases, detectives can take weekends off.

If there's an ongoing investigation, they have to take their days off later.

Luke Johnson had indeed debated whether to come in today. Whether it was out of a sense of duty as a cop or just pure interest in the case, he still showed up.

"No new cases last night?"

David Smith shrugged. "No news so far."

Deputy Vincent said, "No news is good news."

Raymond Johnson looked at the clock on the wall. "The first two 'Taser robberies' both happened on Friday nights, before 1 a.m.

But we haven't received any reports today. Is it possible the suspect didn't strike last night?"

Deputy Vincent picked up a comb and smoothed his thinning silver hair. "The suspect left the word 'youlike' written in blood at the scene—clearly taunting the police. There's no way he'll just stop so easily.

He'll definitely strike again."

Luke Johnson followed up, "Could the suspect have changed the time or method of the crime?"

Deputy Vincent thought for a moment. "The suspect's M.O. is pretty distinct. Personally, I don't think it's likely he'll change."

Jenny Smith twirled the carbon pen in her hand. "There's another possibility: the suspect did strike again last night, but for some reason, the victim didn't report it."

Deputy Vincent snapped his fingers. "Bingo, I think that's more likely.

The suspect always chooses remote locations, so before the victim wakes up, it's likely no one else finds them.

Also, even though the suspect takes all the victim's belongings and clothes, the actual financial loss isn't much—most people don't carry a lot of valuables.

But being stripped naked is much harder to accept.

Some women, after going through something like this, might be too ashamed to speak up and choose to stay silent."

Jenny Smith said, "Even though I'm a woman and I understand their situation, I still think they're enabling crime."

Creak...

The door to the Robbery and Homicide Division office opened, and the Black officer Marcus Johnson walked in, wearing a gold chain around his neck with his badge hanging below it—very flashy.

"Hey, guys, I'm here!"

Deputy Vincent pointed at the clock on the wall. "You're late."

"Come on, I was up all night working on the case. You shouldn't treat someone who's giving their all for the police force like this."

Deputy Vincent snorted, "Smooth talker. You'd better have brought something useful."

Ten minutes later.

Conference room.

Captain Susan sat at the head of the table, asking seriously, "Marcus Johnson, tell us what you found in your investigation."

Marcus Johnson took a big gulp of coffee, put down the cup, and said, "Jenny Smith, next time put in two sugars for me, thanks."

Jenny Smith flipped him the finger.

Marcus Johnson chuckled. "Yesterday, I contacted some friends in the gangs and asked them to help look into leads on the 'Postman.'

This guy is a real ghost—hard to find.

I paid a hefty price to get info on him. He's a firearms expert—handguns, rifles, sniper rifles, Tasers—he can modify them all.

The guy's a genius.

I showed him a photo of the modified Taser, and he admitted it was his work. He modified five Tasers in total and consigned them to three different gun shops.

Joe's Gun Shop is one of them."

Susan Smith asked, "What's the 'Postman's' real name? Why didn't you bring him in for questioning?"

Marcus Johnson said, "I promised my gang contacts I wouldn't touch him, that's the only way I got the info.

If I arrested him, no one would help me next time something like this comes up."

Susan Smith pressed, "How do you know he's telling the truth? What if he's lying to you? He could even be an accomplice."

Marcus Johnson said, "I play by the rules, so does he. If he lies, he'll end up in a world of hurt."

Susan Smith frowned slightly, and the atmosphere in the conference room grew a bit awkward.

Deputy Vincent quietly reminded her, "Captain, the priority now is catching the killer.

This isn't Internal Affairs... If you stick to all those rules, it'll only make the investigation harder."