In the sunset glow that spilled onto the head of the bed, Dean slowly opened his eyes.

He pushed away the woman clinging to him like an octopus, stretched lazily, and searched for his clothes among the scattered garments on the floor.

"Leave a contact number?" a husky female voice emerged from under the sheets.

The young-looking girl's gaze lingered greedily on Dean.

Dean gave her a glance and a gentle smile. "I'm more a believer in fate. This is for your time."

He left a stack of cash.

He bid farewell to the hotel maid who had delivered breakfast to the suite but ended up serving herself as a snack.

After leaving the hotel, Dean drove straight to Chinatown and called the rental agent.

This was something he should have handled yesterday, but due to the Demon cannibal case, it had been postponed until today.

Since there was still some time before tonight's banquet, Dean planned to sort it out now.

This area was home to a large population of Asian immigrants. In earlier years, it was predominantly inhabited by Chinese immigrants from coastal regions. However, as many Chinese moved to safer areas, it gradually became occupied by immigrants from countries like Korea and Vietnam.

Nevertheless, in general, whether it was the food, the shops, or the supermarkets, the area carried a strong architectural flavor of China.

Dean had his eye on the house for some time. It was a detached house in Chinatown with a small garden. It was situated right on the local food street, and several Chinese settlements were about three kilometers away.

The key point was its proximity to the precinct. This was one of the main factors in Dean's choice of this place.

After tonight's gathering, Monet, the captain of the Fourth Squad, would be leaving. Old Hunter would temporarily take over as acting captain, while Dean and Lawrence, the two detectives, would begin to lead separate teams.

In Dean's plan, he would take the core members of the Fourth Squad and station them at the precinct, leaving Lawrence to lead the rookies. This would prevent Lawrence from getting overwhelmed.

The rental agent was also Chinese. The guy was a student working part-time to fund his studies.

Normally, he wouldn't be able to work as a real estate agent during his studies. Of course, if a boss were willing to hire him and pay in cash, it generally wouldn't be a problem as long as no one reported him.

When Dean communicated with him in Chinese, the agent grew noticeably more enthusiastic, slapping his chest and assuring Dean that he would arrange for a cleaning company to thoroughly inspect and clean the house for him, free of charge.

Although Dean wasn't short on money, he accepted the kind offer.

After signing the contract and paying, Dean secured the keys and called Eve and Monet.

After briefly discussing tonight's arrangements, Dean returned to his car, lit a cigarette, and pondered deeply.

Tonight's banquet was a private affair hosted by Saul Aston, a new power broker in Los Angeles.

Saul Aston's mother, as previously mentioned, hailed from a political family on an island province of China. Theirs was an early marriage of political convenience, a strategic arrangement of sorts.

However, as China's national power grew visibly stronger, the significance of this alliance dwindled.

Consequently, for certain reasons, Saul Aston became a marginalized figure in his family. Before the Carmen Family's downfall, he received little support and could only rely on his status and lineage to gather Los Angeles's wealthy Chinese elite. His career hadn't been particularly successful.

Now, Saul Aston had risen to prominence. However, due to his past circumstances, most of his followers were of Chinese descent. Established Caucasian members like Monet, on the other hand, became rarities.

This was also why Monet consistently recommended Dean and didn't object to Eve joining them. Under Saul Aston, the three of them were natural allies, preventing Monet from appearing isolated and vulnerable.

Saul Aston's mother, groomed by that political family from the island province of China, had likely instilled a considerable amount of Chinese philosophy in him. Otherwise, during his times of frustration, Saul Aston might not have had the patience to absorb Chinese elites while biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to seize firmly. Analyzing Saul Aston's character and methods, Dean exhaled a cloud of smoke. He was convinced that the first thing Saul Aston would do upon establishing a firm foothold was to use 'soft tactics' to suppress the Chinese contingent among his followers and expand his Caucasian base. This would be partly for the sake of 'American correctness' and partly for balance. In other words, for a capable mixed-race individual like Dean, grasping this opportunity could mean a swift ascent in the Los Angeles police hierarchy. Becoming captain of the Fourth Squad in short order, for example, would be no problem at all!

Dean felt a flicker of temptation.

After much reflection, Dean shook his head sensibly.

His age and seniority were undeniable constraints. No matter how much he advanced, there was a clear ceiling. In that case, there was no need to be overly conspicuous or make a show of his abilities.

Having resolved to keep a low profile for the day, Dean discarded the cigarette butt and drove towards the private club where the banquet was being held.

「Eight o'clock in the evening.」

Dean, Monet, and Eve arrived at the club entrance punctually. Monet had suggested this. Only later did Dean understand that Monet had done so to avoid any awkwardness.

Inside the club, Chinese men and women gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing. Apart from the servers, Caucasian guests were scarcely seen.

Greeting Dean's party of three was Secretary Qiu, whom they had met once before. He was quite busy, however. After showing them in, he hurried back to the entrance to welcome new arrivals.

Eve sat down on a chair in a corner, tilting her chin toward Monet. "Wow, Monet, there are far more wealthy Chinese in Los Angeles than I imagined."

"But they are not united," Monet adjusted his glasses and began to explain to them:

"Look at that group of five or six people; they're from Magic Capital.

"Over there, some are from Guangdong Province, and those over there are from Southern Fujian... These are all first or second-generation immigrants.

"They form cliques based on their region of origin.

"Beyond that, within these smaller groups, various intersecting circles have formed based on when they immigrated to the United States. There are even sub-circles based on which schools their children attend.

"Not to mention, these individuals also come from different professional backgrounds—business, law, medicine, and so on."

He winked at Dean. "This is also a key reason why Mr. Saul Aston's family allows him to cultivate so many Chinese connections. A scattered handful of sand is nothing to fear."

Eve, uninterested in such matters, stood up and linked her arm with Dean's. She smiled. "Dean, don't mind him. Let's go meet some people. It could be beneficial for our post-retirement prospects."

Dean shook his head.

"Eve, it's useless. Our only point of contact with their circles is through Mr. Saul Aston. Even if their family members commit a crime in the future, they'll first seek Secretary Qiu's help and intervention. Secretary Qiu would then approach us for assistance. So, if you approach them now, all you'll receive is insincerity."

Monet chuckled. "Dean is right, Eve. Most of them are business people; they invest for returns, and Secretary Qiu is their liaison. You're just a captain in the Anti-Black Division. To them, you offer no leverage, so they won't pay you much mind."

"Dean, however, might be quite sought after," Monet added with a sly grin. "The children of these wealthy families might get into trouble someday. With his Chinese heritage, they'd find him more trustworthy."

Eve: "..."

The banquet began, and the entire affair was quite dull. It was more a venue for exchanging benefits and networking. If discussions proved fruitful, the club offered many private, confidential rooms for further conversation.

In fact, Saul Aston himself only appeared for a few minutes at the start, offered some pleasantries, and then departed.

Dean noticed that after Saul Aston left, Secretary Qiu would periodically lead individuals away from the banquet hall. When these individuals reappeared, most wore smiles, as if they had achieved some satisfying result.

"This group is starting to cash in," Monet sipped his champagne, an irrepressible smile in his eyes. He was, after all, one of them.

Soon after, Secretary Qiu also invited Monet away.

Seeing this, Eve sighed. "Dean, I spent so long getting ready for tonight's banquet, and I didn't expect it to be this boring. Just sitting here like a fool all night, and I don't even dare to leave early."

She had joined Saul Aston's faction through Monet's assistance, hoping to gain support for her captaincy. So, her presence today was largely perfunctory.

Dean glanced at the elaborately dressed Eve and raised an eyebrow. "It is indeed dull. However, I recently came across a very interesting case. How about we find a private room to discuss it in detail?"

Eve rolled her eyes at Dean, still wanting to maintain a facade of demureness.

However, Secretary Qiu, who had just departed, returned and approached Dean with a smile. "Detective Dean, Mr. Saul Aston requests your presence."

Monet had said Saul Aston valued him. Dean had dismissed it as Monet merely being polite.

So it's true...

He cast an apologetic look at Eve, whose eyes were already shimmering with unshed tears. Under her reproachful gaze, he followed Secretary Qiu into the club's interior.

As they walked, Secretary Qiu introduced the club to Dean. "This place used to be a veterans' club, later acquired by our Chinese Chamber of Commerce.

"Dean, you're also of Chinese descent, so you're among your own people here. If you're ever bored, feel free to come gather more often. There are many things here you won't find anywhere else."

Dean looked at Secretary Qiu, whose smile didn't reach his eyes, momentarily unable to fathom the true purpose behind his words. He simply nodded politely, feigning a reserved demeanor.

As they continued, Dean noticed the floor began to slope downwards. This indicated that there might be secret spaces beneath the club. Furthermore, their footsteps echoed with a certain hollowness, suggesting that beyond the normal private rooms and structures, invisible to the eye, lay hidden compartments, secret passages, or perhaps, the real dens of entertainment.

While Dean was making these observations, Secretary Qiu led him to a large white door. "We've arrived."

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