Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 197 - 155: Feeling Down Today, Charcoal-Grilled Scum!

Chapter 197: Chapter 155: Feeling Down Today, Charcoal-Grilled Scum!

Back to the apartment.

Shi San, who had been sleeping soundly on the couch, suddenly opened his eyes and approached Brian with some concern, "Woof woof~ (Big dog, you’re injured~)"

"It’s nothing."

Brian waved the bottle containing his own blood and flesh, "You just keep sleeping, I’m going to take care of this."

The sealed water bottle prevented the spread of smells, so there was no need to worry about being tracked.

Disposal was simple.

He poured away the bloodied water, wrapped the flesh in aluminum foil, and tossed it into the oven.

Once it was cooked,

Brian opened it and sniffed gently.

The pheromones that had previously remained in the blood and flesh had vanished, or... perhaps because of the increased activity of his own flesh, Brian could actually smell a strange aroma.

No wonder Shi San always said he smelled nice; it turned out to be really true.

After confirming there were no lingering smells on the meat, Brian sealed the bottle, the chunks of flesh, the clothes, everything, in plastic bags, preparing to find a time to take them out to the suburbs for burning and burial disposal.

After taking care of these tasks,

Brian stroked Shi San’s dog head and began to check the obsession of the black investigator.

The energy expended to repair the missing flesh was far more than that of a typical injury recovery.

Simply put,

repairing a cut heart might only require one unit of gift energy.

But to fix a small piece of missing flesh, it would take several times this unit of energy.

To repair the loss of flesh on his calf, Brian had just burned through the three points of Gift Energy he received tonight, leaving him completely spent. If he couldn’t make up for this loss, he’d have to do a few more jobs for the FBI folks!

Accompanied by a single thought,

a message surfaced in Brian’s mind: Destroy all the data on my personal computer, make sure it’s destroyed!!!

Gift: Energy Points +12

At the same time, details about the black investigator’s computer, its location, and all sorts of hardcore browsing and download records emerged clearly and in detail in Brian’s mind, as if he was afraid of missing even the smallest bit.

"Deservedly so for a Beastification Person, one’s obsession gift is equivalent to that of two or three ordinary people!", Brian nodded in satisfaction.

Thankfully, the black investigator’s obsession wasn’t focused on himself.

He liked those who wished to leave a clean slate in the world of the living, those cultured folks.

Brian looked at the sky, saw that there was a bit of time left before dawn, and solemnly said in the direction of the black investigator’s demise, "Don’t worry, brother. I get you; I’m going to take care of it shortly."

And in the process, dispose of that big bag of stuff he’d switched out earlier.

..

After changing clothes,

Brian, now transformed into a short middle-aged man, checked his gear, slung a big backpack over his shoulder, put on running shoes, and prepared to go out again.

Shi San yawned, "Woof woof~ woof woof woof! (Big dog, you never take me with you when you go out at night, do you have other dogs out there!)"

"Beat it!"

Brian gave Shi San a flick on the forehead and went straight to the balcony, quickly descended in a series of rapid drops, and arrived at the ground floor in less than two seconds.

The place where the black investigator stayed was a motel, and a rather cheap one at that.

That was quite normal.

The pay for an FBI field agent was actually not that impressive.

A newly employed rookie at the FBI, working in a big city like Los Angeles, might get a bit more, roughly over three thousand US dollars a month; it’s even less in other regions.

Currently, the black labor market wasn’t so lucrative, and the United States was still quite prosperous at this time, so even a dishwashing handyman, with a bit of luck, could earn up to four thousand US dollars a month.

If this black labor worker had some skills, like carpentry or welding, wages could rise to seven or eight thousand US dollars, and if not, by doing some Japanese sashimi or the like, one could make five or six thousand a month.

A comparison would show how hard it is for an FBI field agent on the front lines.

Otherwise, Ivan and Glenn, that Teddy duo, wouldn’t have wiped out a new FBI investigative support team, both men and women, within two days.

Apart from their good looks, it was also because the US dollars were just too tempting.

That was the real reason.

Only those FBI agents who had made a name for themselves earned more, and not through salary, but through various incomes that came with rank.

But let’s not go into details here.

Both the black and white investigators died outside.

The support teams that arrived later hadn’t reached the motel yet.

Brian easily infiltrated the motel, took the black fellow’s laptop, and searched the temporary rooms of both men, but he didn’t find anything useful and left disappointed.

He headed to a nearby poor area.

Brian dropped his backpack on the ground, laid out a special cloth inside a large oil barrel, then dumped everything else in, added gasoline, and lit it up.

The laptop was also easy to handle.

He physically destroyed it, smashing and shattering everything, and threw the pieces into several trash cans.

He didn’t burn it together mainly because Brian was worried that the laptop might have some high-tech tracking on it.

This world was too magical; he couldn’t judge it by his former understanding, and it was better to be cautious.

After completely handling all traces,

Brian felt the warmth flow inside him, satisfied with the twelve points of Gift Energy he regained, and returned to the apartment to sleep soundly.

...

The next day, during work hours, everything was calm.

The deaths of the two FBI special agents didn’t stir the slightest ripple in the Los Angeles police world.

Brian guessed that the FBI had lost face here recently and had coldly processed the incident.