The bright moonlight flows through the dark roofs of buildings.
And the roof is higher.
A figure flew through the night sky dozens of meters above the ground. A large black windbreaker fluttered in the wind like a bird's vigorously flapping wings.
"Wow!"
Dean flew silently over a five-story building and looked down. The houses of different heights in the town were as small as sleeping worker ants, and the winding and narrow streets were in the black fog. squirming earthworms, but these bizarre things are all just cold appearances.
In a room on the second floor of the Papa Mac Hotel, her husband Leo was humming a tune in the bathroom and taking a shower. His daughter Julie was leaning on the pillow while eating potato chips and watching the Garfield cartoon.
The wife, wearing a thin and tight pajamas that showed off her plump and good figure, pushed open the door and went down to the second floor to get some fresh air.
…
An excited smile appeared on Dean's lips, and his eyes were narrowed by the night wind. Who would have thought that tens of meters above the roof of his house, under the cover of night, a sneaky private detective was hiding Observe their personal lives.
Telekinesis and God's perspective are perfect for surveillance.
"Why am I becoming more and more shameless and perverted? No, this is definitely not my intention. It is a side effect of excessive mental growth!"
"Huh?" Dean's eyes narrowed, and his body was suspended motionless on the roof of Daddy Mc.
From God's perspective.
Camille, the wife of Leo's family of three, left the main entrance of the hotel and walked straight into the shadows of the back alley.
A man in denim overalls with muscled arms exposed was already waiting there. He greeted her warmly, kissed Camille, and greedily groped up and down, as if he wanted to rub the other person into his body.
Dean, who was peeking from the sky, had the firepower in his body coming back, his face turned red, and his breathing became heavy.
five minutes.
The tryst under the night ended in a hurry, and Camille returned to the hotel with a lingering blush, arranging her messy clothes.
Then the man in denim overalls walked into the night.
Dean, who was feasting his eyes on it, patted his red and hot face,
"I can just go out for a drive and enjoy the passionate cheating drama."
But after the strong stimulation passed, he observed two seconds of silence for his warm and friendly husband, Leo Bernard.
A beautiful wife, a lovely daughter who was admitted to a prestigious university, so happy and happy, but who would have thought that there is a painful truth hidden underneath.
"Keep it secret from him, or give it a gentle reminder in the morning?"
…
But early the next morning.
Dean woke up from meditation and glanced from God's perspective, but was surprised to find that the room of Leo's family was empty.
"Leaving so early?" Dean went downstairs with regret.
"Morning, did you sleep well last night?" Old Mike at the front desk waved his hand.
"Thanks to the power of Rocky Mountain oysters, I had a sweet dream." Dean laughed.
"Actually, our store also provides the service of hand-washing underwear..." Old Mike said with a serious smile.
"No kidding, I have to get going."
"Wait a minute, Mr. Leo and his family specially ordered a hearty breakfast for you before they left... milk, bacon, eggs... He knew you had a big appetite, so he ordered three portions. The money has already been paid."
Dean couldn't help but nod. This family is really enthusiastic.
"When did they leave?"
"At five o'clock, the little lady set off before dawn when she couldn't open her eyes. The beautiful lady seemed to be in a hurry."
"Emergency?"
Dean finished enjoying three breakfasts in the restaurant thoughtfully. Out of gratitude, he secretly decided to remind his husband if he met that family again.
After breakfast and before leaving the hotel, Old Mike gave this big customer a piece of friendly advice:
"Man, remember to be careful when passing through Nebraska. It's not as friendly as our place. There are a lot of racists there."
"knew."
Dean waved his hand, returned to the car, turned on the radio, relaxed, and continued heading east at full speed through Wyoming.
He wanted to rush to Hawkins, Indiana to visit his uncle as soon as possible and find Jane Seymour in the photo to find out.
Therefore, apart from refueling at a highway gas station, we didn’t stop any more. We passed through the mountains in the arid western part of Nebraska and arrived at the vast plains of the east, and the fields planted with corn, wheat, and sorghum.
The whole day was spent in a frantic rush.
When Dean came to his senses, the sun was almost setting, so he slowed down and turned into a small town between Lincoln City and Omaha to stay overnight.
The population density of the town is very low. There are no people on the streets, but the transportation is very convenient. They are all flat, solid and spacious cement roads. There are villa-style buildings next to the roads. The distance between the buildings is only about ten meters. There were flowers and trees in front, and it looked neater and nicer than the town where Dean stayed in Wyoming.
But some people in the yard saw Dean's unfamiliar face with yellow skin, a strange expression, and eyes that were wary of thieves, which made Dean feel a little uncomfortable.
After driving in a large circle, he planned to leave this prejudiced town and continue on his way, but when he passed through a remote forest, a siren suddenly sounded behind him, and a car with a black background and white doors with flashing police lights The police car gave chase, and shouts came from the loudspeaker, "pull over, pull over."
"What a bad luck."
Dean frowned. This was the first time he encountered a traffic stop since crossing over.
But he also served as an LVPD volunteer. In most cases, he would try his best to cooperate with the police officers. He followed the instructions of the police car behind him, slowed down, turned on the turn signal to the right, drove the car to a safe roadside, stopped the engine, turned off the engine, and put his hands on his hands. steering wheel.
Look through the rearview mirror.
A middle-aged police officer with a gun, a hat and a gleaming police badge on his chest got out of the police car, leaving the door open and walked up.
He had a horse face, a hooked nose, thin lips, and a very serious expression. One hand even held the handle of the gun on his waist, and the other hand touched Bronco's taillight intentionally or unintentionally.
Faco!
Dean noticed these details and suddenly had an ominous premonition in his heart. Could a small town policeman be so strict with him?
Bang bang.
The policeman came closer and knocked on the car window.
Dean slowly lowered the window and gave a friendly smile.
"Hello, officer, what's the problem?"
"I've never seen you before. You're a foreigner, right?"
"Yeah, I'm from Las Vegas."
"Please put your hands where I can see them." The policeman glanced at Dean's Asian face, his pupils shrank, and his voice became deeper and more depressed, "I want to check your driver's license and driving permit."
"No problem." Dean quietly summoned the ghost armor to cover his body and smiled slightly, "But I have to get it from the storage box, okay?"
"OK, do as I say." The policeman said in a commanding tone, "Put your left index finger around your body, then open the storage box and take out the ID."
Dean reluctantly performed a magic trick with his index finger and handed the ID to the officer.
"Dean Lu?" The police officer looked at the name on it and grinned, "Are you not Japanese?"
"NO, I'm Chinese." Dean looked into the man's eyes, and his original good mood was completely ruined.
"Chinese?" The man looked at the ID and murmured noncommittally. Suddenly his eyes squinted and he raised his voice, "Please get out of the car, sir."
"Wait a minute, officer, I didn't drink, and I didn't get into any trouble," Dean tried to explain in a calm tone, "I've only been in the town you're responsible for less than ten minutes, and I'm leaving soon."
"That's good, but please get checked first." The man said coldly, holding the handle of the gun in one hand and taking a step back.
Dean hesitated for two seconds, took a deep breath, opened the door and got out of the car, and followed the police to the grass on the side of the road.
"Look at me now." The man nodded his narrow eyes and began to perform the alcohol test. "I want you to stand on your right leg and touch your nose with the index finger of your left hand."
Dean nodded silently and did as he was told.
Then the man took out a flashlight and deliberately shined a stimulating light into Dean's eyes. When he saw Dean avoid his eyes, the corner of his mouth curled up,
"Now, turn around and fold your hands behind your head."
"I'll say it again, there was no speeding or drinking." Dean's tone was still calm.
"I suspect you are carrying dangerous weapons and contraband. You will need to undergo further inspection."
"Please cooperate with the inspection."
With a click, the man pulled out the M15 pistol from the holster and pointed the gun at Dean.
"2"
Dean controlled his temper, recited a number in his mind, and did it again.
The police roughly searched his body.
"Stand still."
He got into the car and searched it again, but did not find any weapons or contraband, so he reluctantly took Dee's sports luggage bag with clothes out of the car.
He opened the zipper in front of Dean and threw the suits and sportswear inside one by one onto the road.
The originally neatly folded clothes became messy, like a garbage pile that had been rummaged through by a beggar.
"They are all famous brands, and they are quite rich." The man looked at Dean who was standing honestly and smiled meanly, "What's your job?"
"Butcher."
Dean answered with a smile, and the policeman looked at him coldly for two seconds.
"Okay, inspection over, put all your things away."
Dean picked up the clothes from the street, put them back into the bag, and put them in the back of the car.
This torturous examination was finally over.
Seeing that he was so obedient and obedient, the man laughed and suddenly pulled his eyes to say goodbye.
"Now, get lost, Chink!"
"What did you say?"
Dean suddenly took his right leg out of the driver's seat and turned his head to look directly into his eyes.
"Don't you understand people? Chingchong, I want you to get out of my territory!" The man didn't expect that the other party would dare to ask back. His true colors were revealed in an instant. He clapped his pistol and yelled, "Don't ever come here to steal our jobs and jobs again." Woman, otherwise next time, you will not only get humiliation, but you will die ugly!"
"Get out of your territory?" Dean tilted his head and muttered with a strange look in his eyes, and suddenly took a slow step closer to the man.
"I'm warning you, stop immediately and don't move!" The man raised his M15.
Dean continued to approach him indifferently,
The man's heart skipped a beat at his sarcastic look, and he became inexplicably flustered, "Stop, Chinaman!"
"Fake squid! White pig!" Dean raised his middle finger and cursed,
The man in a police uniform's expression froze, a trace of extreme shock flashed in his eyes, and then he angrily pulled the trigger of the M15.
Click!
But he didn't wait for the sound of bullets coming out of the barrel.
The trigger of the M15 seemed to have been poured with molten steel and did not move at all.
At the same time, an invisible force captured him. He involuntarily tightened his body, as if his whole body was tightly wrapped in layers of strong glue, and his torso and limbs shrank into a mummy.
This force tightened its grip on his throat, causing him to open his mouth wide and make a faint, indistinct "Uh-huh" sound, while blinking his bulging eyeballs in horror and weakness.
He could do nothing, the irresistible force holding his body up.
Beside the quiet road beside the woods, under the afterglow of the setting sun, a man in a police uniform slowly flew into the sky like a hot air balloon.
"Your territory?" Dean twitched his lips and suddenly remembered that he had some Indian blood. Logically speaking, the territory here should belong to their race.
"This is our Indian land, This is my land!"
"I am showing great mercy by allowing you to live here."
"Not only did you not kneel down and kiss my shoes, but you also sprayed shit all over your mouth. You want to turn your back on me? Now, let me collect some rent and interest."
Dean continued to look up.
The man's body floated higher and higher, and soon reached an altitude of thirty meters. Dean tilted his head slightly, released his mind, and the man sank, and began to free fall!
boom!
A cloud of blood exploded on the hard road. The town police chief fell to the ground face to face, his limbs folded in an exaggerated way, and he lost his breath, like a wild dog that jumped off a cliff and was shattered to pieces.
It's not over yet.
Dean took out the scepter in his arms and released the ghost he had just absorbed. He held the tip of the scepter and thrust it forward, hitting the ghost's chest. It was bathed in the light of the setting sun, and its light cyan illusory body shattered into nothingness.
"You killed XX, proficiency +5, fighting level 3 (10→15/400)"
Dean whistled with satisfaction, wiped off the man's fingerprints on the taillights of his car, cleaned up the scene, and drove away from the town.
In the rearview mirror, he seemed to see the warm and friendly family yesterday, which made him feel like a spring breeze.
Today, the COP in this small town is so ugly and disgusting.
"As a person with super powers, I have been very kind and restrained, but if anyone dares to offend me," a cold light flashed in his eyes, "I will tell him to never transcend!"
The engine roars!
He got back onto I-80.
(End of chapter)
