License plate number: 5CFb382

Owner: Bart Bull

Gender: Male

Birth date: February 9, 1986

Cell phone number: 626 876 6384

Address: 132 Cavelli Street

Social security number: 623-51-7348

Criminal record: DUI, brawl, assault

Little Black grinned broadly, "Wow, this guy has quite the resume; he practically reports to the station every year."

Luke stood up and stretched his legs, "Looks like we need to have a chat with him."

...

Inside a black Ford Explorer.

As Little Black drove, he asked, "Why do you think the Deputy married four times?"

Luke yawned and leaned back in the seat, "I haven't been married myself. You should ask him."

Little Black shook his head, "That old man has a temper, I don't think it's a good idea."

"You want to marry Julian?"

"I don't know. The old man says marriage isn't that scary, and I think he has a point, otherwise, he wouldn't have married four times."

Luke thought to himself, it's not scary, but he's divorced four times too.

"Luke, you're a smart guy, what do you think I should do?"

Luke thought for a moment, "Buddy, you have to ask yourself, I can't give you advice.

What's right for me might not be right for you."

Little Black sighed and didn't ask further.

However, judging from Little Black's demeanor, he was truly smitten with Julian; otherwise, given his old ways, he would have broken up with the girl a long time ago without all this fuss.

Honestly, knowing Little Black as well as Luke did, he wasn't very optimistic about their relationship.

That was also why he didn't offer any advice.

Twenty minutes later, Luke and Little Black arrived at Bart Bull's house.

"I hate this neighborhood." As soon as they entered the community, Little Black started complaining.

It was a typical white neighborhood. The houses weren't particularly expensive, and the residents weren't particularly wealthy. Often, it's these lower-level white communities that are the most exclusive to black people.

If a neighborhood like this became "blackened," property values would plummet. Unlike the residential freedom in China, in America, if you don't have the approval of the majority of community residents, it's hard to settle in that community.

Once, a black man moved into a white neighborhood. He moved in the morning, and by the afternoon, the police had dragged him from his home.

The reason was that a neighbor reported him, claiming a suspicious man was lingering near her home.

The new black resident was taken to the station for questioning. After things were verified, the police only said, "Sorry for the disturbance this afternoon," and it was 'just a misunderstanding.'

They claimed it wouldn't happen again.

Although the black man sued, it eventually led nowhere.

The Ford Explorer stopped in front of Bart Bull's house.

Luke looked around and saw a black pickup truck in the yard of Bart Bull's house.

The two got out of the car, and Little Black surveyed the surroundings.

Luke checked the black pickup truck, first walking around it and then squatting down to examine the tires.

"Creak..." The front door suddenly opened, and a middle-aged white man stepped out, loudly demanding, "Hey... who are you? Why are you in my yard?"

The white man had short hair, reddish skin, and wore a white tank top, looking like a cooked shrimp.

Luke flashed his badge, "LAPD, I'm Detective Chief Luke, and I'd like to talk to you."

"I don't have anything to discuss with you, leave my yard immediately. And don't touch my car."

Little Black displayed handcuffs, "Let's have that chat in a different place, how about a trip to the station? Sorry, my bad.

It might be for life."

Bart snorted, "I didn't grow up scared, I know the law. Give me a reason for arresting me?"

Luke gestured for Little Black to keep quiet, "No one's arresting you, just a talk, OK?

You're involved in a case, and we need to take your statement as part of the procedure."

Bart countered, "What case?"

Luke spread his hands, "Are you sure you want to talk here? Let the neighbors hear? Or maybe let them join in for their opinion."

"OK, come in," Bart stepped aside.

"Good." Luke entered the house, looking around carefully.

Little Black's right hand rested on his gun holster as he followed inside.

He didn't like this white guy, and he had a gut feeling this guy didn't like him either.

However, after entering the living room, Little Black's attitude changed, and his right hand became awkward on the gun holster.

He saw four burly white men sitting in the living room, each with a gun strapped to their waist, and one of them even held a semi-automatic rifle.

Luke swallowed hard, suddenly regretting coming in, with a feeling of walking into a lion's den.

At the same time, he was also silently figuring out whom to take down first if the situation turned sour.

The one with the rifle?

No, some idiot had pulled out a grenade from his pocket.

Fuck, a bunch of psychos.

Bart said to the four hulks on the couch, "Hey, guys, we got two new friends here, Detective Chief Luke, and his little sidekick."

No need to say it, the four white bruisers' gazes were already fixed on Luke and Little Black, especially sizing up Little Black repeatedly.

Bart smiled, "Detective Chief Luke, don't be a stranger, these are all my friends, and we all have gun permits, do you want to check them?"

Luke thought, check my ass, if you guys have permits, that's fine, if you don't, should I confront you, or not?

"Buddy, we're not here to cause trouble, even if you want to rob a bank right now, that's your freedom."

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