Super Detective in the Fictional World Chapter 1270 - John Takes the Stage, and Immense Pressure

Chapter 1270: John Takes the Stage, and Immense Pressure

However, Sergeant John McClane was extremely calm. He simply pressed his hands to his eyes, as if to wake himself up.
Dustin was relieved. As expected of McClane. Luke was the only person under Dustin who could keep him down… Well, maybe not.
Luke was actually very thin-skinned. If he had to go out into the streets like this, he might turn hostile and refuse.
Thinking that, Dustin waved his hand, and Connie and Joe leaned forward to hang the last piece of “equipment” on John.
“After you get out of the car, we’ll wait two blocks away to pick you up,” Dustin said.
John paused in yawning and his eyes widened. “Huh? Dustin, what the hell? What are you trying to do? Two blocks away? Are you joking?”
Dustin said solemnly, “That’s what that ‘Simon’ wants. If we don’t do as he says, he’ll blow up another subway station.”
John gaped and couldn’t say anything for a moment.
Dustin smiled bitterly. “People we know from FBI and Homeland Security are here as well. They’ll help out and won’t let anything happen to you.”
John scoffed. “Of course. If I die, nobody will listen to that dog Simon. Who is this guy? Why is he targeting me?”
Everybody in the car, including Billy, who was driving, fell silent. Don’t you know why he’s targeting you? You’ve only worked eleven days this month, and you’ve already killed two criminals. It makes sense for someone to target you!
Dustin explained patiently, “We don’t know, but he said it had to be you. So, we can only do this now to buy us time and look for leads to uncover this guy.”
John said mockingly, “Wow, it feels good to be needed. Don’t I still have two more days of enforced leave?”
Dustin said, “Actually, there’s only one day left, which is today. Your leave has been canceled.”
John said, “…Congratulations. You and that dog Simon ruined my best ‘vacation’.”
Everybody fell silent again.
Dustin wasn’t angry.
If he were in John’s position, he would call Simon worse things than a dog.
After venting his frustration, John didn’t waste any more time. “Okay, I’m ready.”
With that, he opened the back door of the logistics van and looked at the sky. He took a deep breath and got out.
He was wearing two wooden planks, one in front and one in the back, which made it difficult for him to move.
Dustin said, “We’ll pick you up in 15 minutes, as per his demand.”
John nodded with a bitter smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be dead on the street in five minutes at most anyway.”
Everybody fell silent, and Dustin said, “Let’s go, Billy.”
Billy, who was driving, turned the wheel and sped off, leaving John alone on the street.
An old black lady walked over from the opposite side. Her gaze was fixed on the wooden sign John was wearing. She looked angry and also sighed, but didn’t say anything in the end.
John looked around helplessly at the intersection.
The sidewalk was empty, and there weren’t any cars around.
The afternoon sun shone down on the street.
Sergeant John, who was wearing nothing but a pair of men’s boxers and a wooden sign, stood at the end of the street.
On the white wooden board, three words were written in black spray paint: “I hate XX.”
20 meters away, a group of young African Americans was playing music and dancing on the roadside.
John swallowed. He felt that he should have brought a bottle of water with him. It would help alleviate the dryness in his mouth a bit.
In the midst of his mental torture, a tall black man walked out of the shop across the street. He quickly walked down the street and stood not far away from John with an odd expression on his face.
Pushing up his glasses, the tall black man frowned and stared at the three words on John’s chest. He said, “Good afternoon, sir.”
Looking at the man, who was almost 1.9 meters tall, John, who was more than 1.8 meters tall, John immense pressure. “Good afternoon.”
Looking at his expression, the tall black man felt that things might not be as they seemed.
It was indeed unusual to be standing on the street in nothing but underwear, but the man didn’t look like he was completely crazy.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Sir, have you run into some sort of trouble? Even if you can’t take it, however, you don’t have to kill yourself this way, right?”
John said, “…More like someone wants me to be killed.”
The tall black man: “What?”
…
In the logistics van, Dustin didn’t say anything. He simply took out his phone and sent a message: John’s arrived. Did you find anything?
Luke, who had just left the second subway station in Brooklyn, didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he looked at the intelligence which Little Snail projected on his lenses before he had Selina send a message.
Looking at the reply, Dustin relaxed a little.
Luke was already investigating. He said that he had some leads, which meant that there really were leads.
Dustin had his own guess about how Luke operated.
If he said there were no leads, then there really weren’t any.
If there was some progress or a small lead, it wouldn’t be small.
Generally, criminals whom Luke found a “small lead” on would end up either dead or captured.
The only thing which worried Dustin was that the criminals this time weren’t ordinary gangs, but terrorists.
When dealing with people like these, the real problem wasn’t catching them.
Catching them might only be the first step to solving the problem.
This time, they had to figure out how many backup plans the terrorists had set up in New York.
Otherwise, there might be another subway station explosion.
Thinking that, he finally said, “Any news from the FBI and Homeland Security? What are they up to? Are they pretending to be dead?”
Connie shook her head. “Boss, there’s no news. Instead, they’ve been asking us about our progress.”
Dustin rubbed his forehead. He knew that he couldn’t think too well of human nature.
For most people, the sooner the case was over, the better.
But for some people at the FBI and Homeland Security, it would be best if they were the ones to control how the case ended.
If anything major really happened, NYPD, the FBI, and Homeland Security would be held responsible.
Since none of them had been of use, they would all be partly to blame.
Some people could completely put their humanity aside for the sake of earning credit for solving such a huge case.
Dustin wasn’t like that, but he couldn’t stop the other two parties from acting that way.
What made him feel even more helpless was the timing.
If he hadn’t fallen out with Brad a few days earlier, Brad would still have helped him a little.
But after talking to Luke that day, he had clearly rebuffed Brad’s request.
When Brad called him now, it was just to tell him to solve the case as soon as possible.