"Speed, boost!"

Dean stood in front of the large mirror in the bathroom, wearing shorts, thinking silently.

Attribute points: 1→0.

Speed: 15→16.

Accompanied by the attribute points just obtained disappear.

A tingling sensation surged from all over the body.

Dean looked into the mirror, his pupils shrinking.

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

Horror, evil.

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

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

Just when Dean thought the change was over.

A piece of information came to mind: the pre-organization has completed proliferation (120%), gene mining is in progress, and the evolution is expected to be completed in 20 hours.

Again?

Dean didn't expect that his physical fitness would improve so much after breaking the limit this time!

Don't wait for him to react.

A warm current followed by dizziness.

Dean shook his head, braced himself, put on the pajamas beside him, and didn't care about returning to the bed, so he could only stumble and fall on the nearest sofa, curled up and fell into a coma.

Under the warm current, the temperature of his body rose at a very unscientific rate, and in the area invisible to the naked eye, some genes that had been sleeping for countless years were awakened by unknown forces, broken and reorganized, and integrated into the existing body structure Among them, and then at an incomprehensible speed, it proliferated rapidly in his body.

In a coma, Dean had a dream.

A strange but real dream.

He dreamed that he was in a huge forest, jumping and galloping with exaggerated speed and incomparable flexibility, avoiding the pursuit of some terrifying beasts, or hunting some thinner beasts

The two scenarios are constantly 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 a coma.

"Aww~"

A miserable scream woke Dean from his sleep.

He stood up suddenly, and subconsciously wanted to go in the direction of the sound to stimulate the bullets stored in the subspace. Everything in his vision, like a slow motion, came to mind:

I saw Cheston En, the unlucky guy, clutching his stomach, opening his mouth wide, with a twisted and ferocious expression on his face, soaring in mid-air in a lobster bow posture, and slammed into the heavy TV counter.

Thanks to this magical reaction speed.

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

"Sorry Cheston"

With an apology on his face, Dean looked at Cheston, who was bleeding from the corner of his mouth, and was taken away by the ambulance.

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

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

If the soles of his feet hadn't just touched Cheston's stomach at that time, causing most of the power not to erupt, Dean estimated that he would have kicked Cheston to death in his sleep, completing the dream killing achievement.

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

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

he noticed.

When I approached, the two members of the FBI Operations Department who were standing at the door to guard me tensed up, and their hands unconsciously touched their waists. They completely regarded themselves as some dangerous people with unstable mental states.

After entering the room.

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

The extent of this change was far beyond his imagination.

If it is said that adding points to attributes before breaking the limit is still in the category of human beings, then he is definitely beginning to step into the extraordinary evolution now.

Not to mention subtle enhancements in all aspects of the body.

Dean found that his physical coordination and explosiveness were at least twice as fast as before. When he focused on a certain object, he even had the illusion of slowing down the flow of time.

for example:

Dean casually picked up a pen on the table, threw it into the air, and then drew an inconspicuous afterimage with his palm, which was precisely positioned at the tip of the pen again and again, maintaining the miraculous scene of the pen spinning in the air without falling off.

This appears to be just a trick.

But this effect can only be achieved with a near-perfect grasp of power control and body response.

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

Dean thought wildly for a moment, calmed down, and looked at the panel again.

"【Violent Detective Panel】

Character: Dean

Level: 21 (0/4000)

Spirit: 15 (locked)

Strength: 15

Speed: 16

Stamina: 15

Skills: Pistol Mastery, Ancient Muay Thai Mastery, Akaz School-Mind Reading L3, Trace Tracking L3, Beast Taming L1, slightly (click to open).

Features: The body of a beast!

Subspace: 2 cubic meters

Attribute points: 0

Skill Points: 4

Completed cases: slightly. "

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

Dean thought for a while, and ended this reinforcement.

Shortly after Cheston was taken to hospital.

A woman, under the protection of two fully armed police officers, knocked on Dean's door.

"Hello, I'm Fana, the director of the branch here, is it convenient to talk now?"

Fana is a very beautiful blonde woman in her thirties, wearing red mahogany glasses and a slightly serious business attire, but the tight clothes undoubtedly tell outsiders that she has something.

Dean looked her up and down, with a smile on his face: "Of course, but is it too exaggerated for you to bring two brothers behind you?"

"It's not an exaggeration at all."

Fana shook her finger: "Agent Dean, in your previous actions, one person killed more than a dozen people, basically with one blow, and more than three people had experienced cruel torture before death, but just now , your companion was also sent to the hospital by you, the doctor said he didn't have a month, and I'm afraid he won't be able to get out of bed."

Having said that, she withdrew 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 waited for the two idiots behind her to step aside with their guns in hand, then she lowered her voice and said, "Your actions make me very passive, don't tell me, you want me to wipe your ass for you! "

She deliberately waited for a few days before coming to Dean, just to let Dean find a relationship by himself and deal with some troubles behind the organ factory.

Fana is doing well in this remote city.

She didn't want to provoke a dangerous person like Dean, and she didn't want Dean to ruin her current peaceful life.

But now it seems.

This guy, doesn't seem to matter.

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

Fana took out a photo: "This person is called Swande. He has several identities, including a city councilor, a medical shoulder, and some more complicated identities. The case of the organ factory is completely over, but your trouble ,just began!"

Those organs, the channels they flow to, are too complicated.

This includes beneficiaries, medical capital, and local governments. Even the FBI will not foolishly continue to dig deeper after cracking the case.

Dean looked at Fana and raised his eyebrows: "Thank you 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 it is also responsible for my safety."

She said it very bluntly: "I suggest you leave tomorrow morning, at least they dare not do anything now, but wait until the headquarters gives a solution, you may be safe in the urban area, but when you leave, you will be When you die."

Dean nodded: "I see, help me take care of my companion."

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

Fana said, hesitantly said: "Thank you for your cooperation, if you have other needs, I will try my best to meet you."

Dean looked at the two heavily armed men behind Fana, and grinned, "Prepare some chicks for me, before I leave, I want to relax"

Fana is a funny person.

She actually found two women of good quality for Dean.

Night fell.

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

This made it difficult for the two guards guarding Dean.

They endured the howling of ghosts and wolves for a long time, and the soundproof room fell into dead silence.

"The bastard finally calmed down!"

One cursed angrily.

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

"What friendliness?" The guard who spoke before smiled dismissively.

Really friendly, Fana will not let the guy in the room drive away secretly in advance.

This is clearly to get rid of trouble.

He gloated and said, "That's because the bastard inside provoked Swande. That guy is a hypocritical and ruthless guy. I bet the guy in the room won't live until tomorrow afternoon."

While the two guards were muttering.

Dean had already followed the window of the hotel, like a Spiderman, grabbing the edge of the wall with his bare hands, and fell layer by layer, directly from the top of the 30th floor to the ground.

What a shit big shot!

what a threat!

He likes to kill threats in the bud.

leave the hotel.

Dean wore a night suit taken out of space, took out an unused mobile phone, and called 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 do customers need?"

"A sandwich biscuit, hurry!" Dean lowered his voice.

Sandwich cookies are intelligence.

As for the fruit, it is ammunition.

There was a pause there, and the sweet and beautiful voice turned into a cold and professional tone: "Please provide the ingredients."

"Swand, Swand Crosby of XX City, XX State, he is a medical shoulderer, I need his most accurate information, location!"

This time, there was a longer pause.

Dean waited for five minutes before hearing the woman's response again: "Guest, his identity is very sensitive. If you are sure that you need it, please transfer half a million dollars to this account within ten minutes."

The phone hangs up.

A bank account text message was sent to Dean.

Dean immediately dialed another transoceanic phone number to transfer money through the mobile phone.

half an hour later.

An address appeared in Dean's hand.

midnight.

Dean was sleeping soundly with his exhausted soft girl in his arms.

bang~

The door of the room was knocked open.

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

She glanced around the room sharply, then looked at Dean and the two women on the bed, and said suspiciously: "Agent Dean, just half an hour ago, Swande was killed in the XX club, For safety's sake, you must leave now."

Dean yawned, his sleepy face showed the discomfort of being woken up: "The bastard is dead, why should I go?"

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

Fana's eyes lit up.

Although the person she arranged could guarantee that Dean had never left, the woman's intuition told her that Swande's death was related to Dean!

Fana didn't want to get involved in trouble.

She just wants Dean to get out of his territory now!

Under the 'escort' of her people, Dean could only bid farewell to the gentle bed, went to the hospital to say goodbye to Cheston, and then reluctantly drove away from the city.

After a few days.

All the way.

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

Considering that the mayor's troubles have not been resolved.

He didn't notify anyone, Quiet Mimi returned to the safe house that he had prepared in advance, and after making an appointment with An Bei, he turned on the computer in the safe house, ready to check the feedback given to him by the FBI.

Not surprisingly.

He was suspended.

Dean didn't feel any regret about this.

It was only after he got involved that he discovered the limitations of the FBI.

Old cases have been cracked, and the price/performance ratio is very low.

Big cases often involve too much.

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

In short.

During this period of time, Dean was not happy.

He kind of missed the days of solving crimes in Los Angeles.

Turn off the mailbox.

Dean searched for news on Swande.

He killed him with his own hands.

This is also the first time Dean has used the warp to kill people.

The simplicity was beyond his expectation: he just disguised himself as a club attendant, found Swande who was drinking, and across a dozen tables, with a thought, a bullet appeared out of thin air, and the other person was headshot.

The bullets released by using the subspace are silent, without any trace left, and the power has not weakened at all. It is a real means of killing people invisible.

No matter how many undercurrents are behind Swande's death.

At least on the bright side, the death of Swande, the big man in Fana's mouth, was a big movement and a little rain.

"Next, what should we do?"

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

I'm a little confused.

Dean thought for a while, took out his cell phone, and called Neil.

In case of indecision, let's make a glue.

This plot, going all the way into the little black room, wanted to end it sooner, so the writing was a bit sloppy.

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