The massacre case was solved. All the follow-up work was handled and coordinated by Daisy. Carlo, eager to progress faster, volunteered to help. And so, in the office, it was just Dean and Harry left. "Harry, you seem down. Still worried about your little cousin’s situation?" Dean, who was slacking off, played with a deck of playing cards, performing various fancy tricks, but he still couldn’t pique the normally playful Harry’s curiosity, which puzzled him a bit. Harry shook his head. "Dean, I’m just thinking, what if my daughter grows up and takes a bad path? I’ve thought a lot about it, but nothing seems quite right. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a dad." "How old is your daughter? She’s growing up, and so are you. At least you never thought about this stuff before, right?" Dean looked at Harry with relief. He saw growth in this unreliable guy. At this, Harry’s furrowed brow smoothed out, and he shrugged. "That’s true. Hey Dean, it’s lunchtime. Let’s go. I recently found this great Mexican burrito place. It’s on me." This was the first time Harry had ever offered to treat someone. Since there was nothing pressing, Dean happily accepted. Upon arriving, Dean realized why Harry was so obsessed with this seemingly average burrito joint. It was full of waitstaff who had to carefully maneuver to avoid bumping their behinds into the tables and chairs as they walked. After Harry found them seats, he went alone to the counter and greeted the waitress in charge of taking orders enthusiastically, "Hey Pema, good afternoon." "Good afternoon, Harry." "Two meal sets, please, for table eight. I brought a colleague over," he said. The woman glanced up perfunctorily. Spotting Dean at table eight, her eyes lit up, and she smiled. "Is that your colleague with you?" "Yep!" Harry raised his eyebrows, speaking slyly. "Want his contact details?" "This meal is on me!" With a free lunch secured, Harry returned to their table, quite pleased. He offered Dean a cigarette with a sycophantic grin. "Dean, actually, I’ve got a favor to ask of you today." "I knew you’d never treat me to a meal without a reason," Dean said, taking the cigarette. "Spill it." Harry wrung his hands, unusually nervous. "Here’s the thing, I’ve met the love of my life here recently. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one I wanted to protect for the rest of my life. I tried to hit on her, but for some reason, whenever I get close to her, my heart starts pounding like crazy, and my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with Lawrence’s smelly socks—I can’t even speak." "So you want me to help you pick up a girl?" Harry nodded vigorously. "Pretty much." As he spoke, he caught sight of a figure entering the door and became flustered. "Dean, quick, look at the door, that’s her!" Dean looked over with an odd expression. He saw an African American woman with short hair, looking rather ’sturdy,’ wearing an olive-green striped jacket. She walked briskly up to the counter and started ordering with confidence. "You sure about her?" This woman looked tough. Dean was concerned Harry might get more than he bargained for if he approached her. Harry didn’t reply, just fixated on her, occasionally gulping, which was quite embarrassing to watch. Dean was speechless and gave Harry a kick. That brought Harry back to his senses, grimacing. "What did you just say, Dean?" Alright then. It was clear the guy was truly smitten. Without suffering a thrashing, he was unlikely to turn back. They were good friends, after all. Dean took another look at the woman and had an idea. He said, "This woman seems decisive and direct in her actions. You should just try asking her outright! You might have a chance!" Harry rubbed his hands together nervously. "Ah, but I don’t know what to say." In front of the one who made his heart flutter, the veteran of the nightlife scene was performing poorly. Dean said without enthusiasm, "You should at least know what her job is, right?" Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, I know. Her name is Tina, she’s an ex-soldier, and now she helps her brother at their repair shop, fixing cell phones and some home appliances." "In that case," Dean motioned for Harry to come closer and whispered some advice into his ear. Harry listened, then looked uncertainly at Dean. "Really think it’ll work?" "Whether it works or not, you have to try to find out. Otherwise, you’ll only end up with regrets." Encouraged by Dean, the lothario, Harry, finally mustered up the courage. He approached Tina, who had just sat down, and stammered, "Hello, my name is Harry, and, um, I heard you fix phones?" Tina gave Harry a once-over and said coolly, "Buddy, that pickup line is really old-fashioned!" That damned oppressive feeling! Harry could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest as he mechanically produced his cell phone and laid it in front of Tina. "But my phone really is broken." Tina eyed Harry suspiciously again, then the phone he had put down. As mentioned before, Harry fit the type some African American women found attractive. That’s why those matrons at the precinct were eyeing him. So, after some hesitation, Tina picked up the phone. While tinkering with it, she casually asked, "Alright, what’s the problem with your phone? Also, I need to finish my meal before I can fix it for you." "It’s not getting your calls!" Harry had used all his courage to say that line. "What?" Tina almost thought she had misheard. She stared at Harry with wide eyes. "What did you just say?" Harry met Tina’s gaze and almost felt like he was suffocating. If I’m going to die, then so be it! He said loudly, "I meant, Tina, this damn phone of mine, it can’t receive your calls or your messages! Can you fix it?" The gazes of the other customers were all drawn by his voice. Tina, holding the phone, just looked at Harry. And under these circumstances, Harry finally let go. He looked at Tina passionately. "I know my actions may have troubled you. But even more, I know that from the first moment I saw you, I was deeply enchanted. I’ve been sleepless, because the moment I close my eyes, it’s your image that appears. I’ve realized that if I don’t say these words now, I’m definitely going to go crazy!" "WOW!" The surrounding customers finally realized this was a confession and started to egg him on. Young guys even started to whistle, turning the originally quiet little store noisy. Tina was silent for a moment before the corners of her mouth curved up. "Are you serious?" "If you’re willing, I’m ready to show you my true heart!" "Alright then!" Tina looked down, typed a string of numbers into the phone, and tossed it back to Harry. "Bring my lunch, then follow me!" Harry, still dazed, took the phone. "Where are we going?" "To see my big brother!" Tina grinned. "My big brother said that anyone who wants to pursue me has to win his approval first. So, if you’re not afraid of dying, follow me!" And so, amidst everyone’s blessings, Harry, acting like a complete simp, forgot about Dean, his boss, and carried Tina’s packed Mexican chicken rolls, disappearing from everyone’s sight. Dean was smiling, watching everything unfold. As a cheery and kind boss, he had a supportive attitude towards his underling finding true love. Let’s consider it Harry’s treat in return. Just then, the girl at the front desk, carrying two large plates, walked up to the table, puzzled. "Where’s Harry?" Dean helped her with the heavily laden plates. "He had to leave suddenly. Don’t worry, I’ll annihilate these two plates of food; nothing will go to waste." As the girl handed over the plates, she brushed her fingertips over Dean’s palm and took the opportunity to sit down, chuckling. "But Harry didn’t settle the bill!" Dean froze. "He didn’t pay?" Follow current novels on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✦𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✦𝓷𝓮𝓽 The girl shook her head. "I’ve got this meal, but he promised he would give me your number. That’s why I agreed. You’re his colleague, you won’t back out, right?" Damn it all! Harry, that bastard! He said he’d treat me, but he ended up trading me for a free lunch! And to top it off, he even made me help him pick up a girl! The nerve! Am I only worth two Mexican chicken roll meals? Who does he think he’s looking down on? Just wait, I’ll let Harry know what it means to write a ten-thousand-word reflection ’because he entered with his left foot first’! 「In the following days.」 The area under the Fourth Squadron’s responsibility was peaceful and quiet. This left Dean, who was eager for some Experience Points, quite bored. Fortunately, he had the unlucky Harry to keep him company. It wasn’t that Dean, out of kindness, was enjoying Harry staying up all night writing reflections; it was simply that Harry had been dragged home by Tina that very day and then met her seven brothers. Seven to one. Seven hulking brutes, after a "friendly exchange" concerning Harry’s relationship with their little sister, reached a decision at the speed of a rocket launch—a decision Harry would likely regret for a lifetime! When Harry came out of Tina’s house, he realized something very serious. He hadn’t even held Tina’s hand. After a simple confession, and amidst friendly exchanges with seven future brothers-in-law, he had foolishly agreed to marry Tina by Christmas. Only then did Harry find out that Tina had already been married once and had a son about the same age as his own daughter. What was worse, Tina’s deceased ex-husband—after being caught cheating and expressing a desire for divorce—had drunkenly driven into the sea, effectively becoming Harry’s ’predecessor.’ Faced with this formidable woman, who was only widowed, never divorced, even Harry, driven by lust, was now filled with regret. So these days, the smile on his face had vanished and migrated to Dean’s. Now, if Dean didn’t rile Harry up about it every day, he felt completely out of sorts. That day, Dean, holding a cup of coffee, strolled over to Harry, who was looking quite haggard, and feigned concern. "Harry, still worried about your fiancée? Look on the bright side. At least you hardly did a thing, and now you’ve got both a son and a daughter. When you get married, I’ll give you a big gift to celebrate." Daughter – from a woman who basically got a freebie baby out of him. Son – stuck raising another guy’s kid. HAHAHAHA! Every time Dean thought of this, he chose to forgive that bastard Harry for arbitrarily giving him nicknames, causing him to acquire a bunch of absurd titles, and for trading him for a free lunch. No way around it. Dean the detective, lacking any other virtues, was just too good-hearted. Harry directly gave Dean the middle finger. "If you could tone down that schadenfreude on your face, maybe I’d be moved by your comfort!" As the two of them clowned around and slacked off, The phone on Daisy’s desk began to ring.