A brightly lit passenger ship slowly sailed on the sea, like a star reflected in the dark and boundless night sky.
On the bow of the ship is a huge word NEPTUNE in red paint on a white background, which is particularly conspicuous in the light. It was the famous gambling roulette owned by GA boss Nathaniel Epro, and the well-known "Neptune" on the underworld.
In the largest banquet hall on the roulette, the wine was in full swing, a few strippers danced wildly with their arms around the pole, and under the dim light, a group of people laughed and poured wine on each other. When the atmosphere was at its peak, a bodyguard hurried into the crowd and grabbed Stanley, who was puffing, and said, "Master, Langya's phone."
When Stanley was enjoying the most marijuana, he was stunned for a moment before he realized it, and he was furious immediately: "Is that son of a bitch Spike still alive?"
The bodyguard handed over the phone obediently.
Stanley grabbed the phone and screamed, "Hello? You son of a bitch, what do you want to do? You don't do anything with my money, do you want me to kill your whole family?"
Because of excessive drinking, his face was sickly pale, and the illusory excitement brought about by marijuana made his face dyed an abnormal flush; his eyes were the same blue as the sky like his mother's, but it was a pity that the fundus of the eyes was blood red , shone with a harsh and cold light, so that people shuddered when they saw it.
The person on the other side of the phone was silent, and waited until Stanley had vented his anger before saying coldly, "I'm here to make a new deal."
His voice has been tuned mechanically so that it sounds like an electronic voice on the phone.
Stanley roared: "You bitch, what tricks are you playing with me? Why is Deng Kaiwen still alive?!"
"I refunded your order."
"What's the meaning?!"
"I don't want to kill that SWAT captain. He doesn't meet my professional standards."
"What great professional standards do you have? If I give you money to kill someone, you'll be like a prostitute!"
"Mr. Stanley," Langya said coldly, "If I were you, I wouldn't swear at a killer so easily."
"..." Stanley closed his mouth suddenly, his face turning blue and turning red.
"Although I canceled the order of the special police captain, I can help you kill another person. I heard that you are now under house arrest on the Neptune? If this continues, the position of the heir will be worrying."
Stanley's face flushed red: "What's the matter with you?"
"It's really not closed, so I only give you one chance to choose." Langya paused, although the electronic voice could not hear any difference, but his tone seemed to be deeper: "Either refund the money, or... I I can help you secure the position of the heir—no, I can help you become the boss directly."
"..." Stanley's heart suddenly thumped: "What do you mean? Could it be..."
"Kill Nathaniel Epro," Spike said, "and the GA will be yours."
There was a moment of silence on the phone.
"I'll do it." Stanley swallowed, "As long as you can ensure success."
The electronic voice seemed to smile, and it sounded a little mocking: "You are so straightforward, Mr. Stanley, it is said that Nathaniel Epro is your biological father?"
"I want GA more."
Stanley's throat tightened when he said this, so that his throat was dry, and it sounded a little weird.
"—Okay," Langya laughed, "Since you are willing to change the entrustment, then I need your cooperation to do something... Maybe I can buy one and get one free for you."
"what's up?"
"I'll let you know again."
"...Then when do you plan to do it?"
"Let's talk about it when the time comes," Langya answered this question very vaguely, then changed the topic and asked with a teasing smile: "At least Epro hasn't killed you yet, so you want to send him to the west?"
"I hate people restraining me." Stanley took a breath, his voice was cold: "Anyone who dares to restrain me, I will kill."
"...Okay, I'll hurry up."
"Do you want more money? If you succeed in killing my father—"
"No, no need." Langya said, "Kill Epro, GA belongs to you, and the SWAT captain belongs to me."
Stanley froze, about to ask something, but suddenly there was a deafening howl from the crowd as the stripper finally took off the last piece of textiles on her body.
When he could barely hear the voice on the phone, Langya had already hung up the phone.
During peak crime season every summer, the Los Angeles Police Department is always extremely busy.
Deng Kaiwen sat behind the desk, his eyelids were too heavy to lift, the whole world was full of flowers. Because there was a big case in the eastern district last night, he had been busy all night with two ELEMENTs, and today he was in a hurry to hold a high-level police meeting, and he almost fell asleep when the chief of the branch spoke.
The temperature of the central air conditioner was too low. At noon, he felt that his body temperature was a little high, and his head was dizzy.
I had no appetite at noon, so I only took two painkillers, sat at the desk with my elbows on my forehead and read documents, and fell asleep without knowing it. He didn't know how long he had slept for, but when he woke up, he suddenly found himself lying on the sofa, covered with a police uniform coat, and a cool towel on his forehead.
Mitchell sat beside him and asked, "Feeling better?"
Deng Kaiwen sat up and took a look, only to see that he was flipping through his documents, and he also circled some sentences with a red pen.
"What are you doing?"
"I came to deliver food to you, and found that you fell asleep on the table, and the temperature was a little high, so I moved you to the sofa. But then again, you really like me, and you still use your face when you fall asleep Rubbing my hand..." Mitchell stroked his palm intoxicatedly: "I decided never to wash this hand again!"
"When I'm asleep, I rub everything," Deng Kaiwen said calmly, "You get a rag, and I rub it too."
"...Can't you let me be a little bit obsessed?"
"Go ahead and dream. What is this?" Deng Kaiwen pointed to the red circle on his document and asked.
That document is the content of the police chief's speech in the morning. It is completely bureaucratic. It is nothing more than that when the new season is approaching, we must strengthen the internal construction of the police force, get rid of the corrupt and backward bureaucracy, strive to build a good relationship with the media, and maintain public order in Los Angeles Etc., etc……
"Oh, let me circle the key points for you." Mitchell pointed to the name of the person circled by himself with a red pen, and said, "For example, this person will be promoted soon, and he will be in charge of the logistics of our police force; that It is said that he will be transferred to a newly established anti-narcotics team in Chicago, he has a lot of resources and weapons, we can find a way to get one..."
"Where did you get the gossip?"
"My old man said," Mitchell said, shrugging, "that this is the only back door I go through in the LAPD."
Deng Kaiwen leaned on the sofa, looking lazy and sleepy, and glanced at him with a half-smile: "You still want to engage in these speculations? Show your father's name, and a lot of high-ranking officials will scramble for it." Let me help you."
The tone of these words is very subtle, with a hint of ridicule and sarcasm, and it is also a bit like the feeling of doing whatever you want without concealing it when facing someone close to you.
He was leaning on the armrest of the sofa, the light blue police uniform shirt wrapped his body, showing the slender and flexible waistline. Because of the flexion of the calf, the trousers outline the strong muscles from the buttocks to the thighs, and they are tight and rounded, which looks very sexy and makes people want to put their hands in them.
Mitchell's Adam's apple slid up and down, swallowed hard, and said, "I like to stay in the SWAT team, what's the matter?"
Deng Kaiwen chuckled and patted him on the shoulder: "Don't take this as a springboard for your career. Just stay here, ah."
He was just about to stand up, when suddenly Mitchell turned over and pushed him down firmly on the sofa, with one knee tightly pressed between his thighs, and asked with a condescending smile, "You don't trust me?"
Deng Kaiwen is in the lower position, with a calm demeanor, as if he was just thrown down by the big golden retriever raised at home.
"Student Kevin, your father is ten thousand times more famous than mine. He has been on the top 10 blacklists of the CIA and the FBI for 11 consecutive years. Don't you just stay in the SWAT team?" Mitchell lowered his head, and quickly stuck out his tongue to lick Deng Kaiwen's lips: "So I decided to hang out with you, take care of me, brother."
Deng Kaiwen finally couldn't help laughing, and pushed him: "How should I take care of you?"
Mitchell didn't speak or smile, just stared at him so closely. At such a close distance, the skin of the upper body is close to each other, the breath of the two people is entwined, and the temperature is so high that it makes people's cheeks feel hot. After a while, he lowered his head, approached Deng Kaiwen's lips little by little, and kissed slowly.
This kiss was intimate and long, and it was as mellow and fragrant as old wine, making people intoxicated without knowing it.
Although there is no sense of coercion at all, it is irresistible.
Deng Kaiwen also found it strange that he would be so addicted to same-sex kisses that he didn't even care about the environment and location, even forgetting that he was still sitting in the police office.
He vaguely remembered that the door hadn't been locked yet, it was just concealed there, as long as someone walked by and poked his head in, he could have a panoramic view of the entire office.
This thought flashed through my mind, adding a little excitement to the feeling of having an affair, making people more excited and unable to help themselves.
"I like you, Kevin,..." Mitchell pressed against the corner of his lips, and after a while, said almost silently: "...I love you."
People are generally sensitive at this time. When he spoke, the fiery air sprayed on Deng Kaiwen's skin, which even slightly scratched him. Deng Kaiwen tilted his head slightly and asked, "Why?"
"I don't know, I just like it."
"Since when?"
"...from the day when I stood in the Los Angeles Police Department, you said to us, 'My name is KevinDen, you can call me Kevin'." Mitchell paused, and whispered: "It may be me When I asked you how to pass the training camp, when you said that you just need to survive. From then on, I felt that this police officer was different from the ones I had seen before, and was very special."
Deng Kaiwen recalled whether he really said that, but he couldn't recall it.
He has worked in the FBI for many years and held a high position in the Los Angeles Police Department. He has seen too many newcomers and seen too many things. Sometimes one of his words can impress people with a long aftertaste, but he himself quickly forgets it.
"In fact, for so many years, I remember that I made a big mistake when I was a teenager. At the beginning of the summer vacation that year, there was a thin, short and very timid boy standing in the empty classroom. Stuttering confession, thanking Mitchell Landers for protecting him and taking care of him, he likes this classmate named Mitchell Landers very much, and wants to confess to him... But I clearly remember , I stupidly and cruelly rejected this little boy, and even scolded him severely."
Mitchell imitated the tone of Deng Kaiwen's back then to call his own name, and he still learned it vividly, quite a bit of Deng Kaiwen's cowardly, timid and easily frightened demeanor in his youth.
In fact, he himself was also surprised that after so many years, he still remembered every word and every detail of that year.
"That was the most absurd and ignorant summer of my teenage years. I felt like a psychopath was stained with dirty things. I tried my best to justify and explain to everyone. I poured dirty water on the little boy's head and followed me with impunity. Everyone laughed at him and insulted him loudly, as if they could say that they were just like the majority of people."
Deng Kaiwen lowered his head slightly, not to look into Mitchell's eyes, but Mitchell raised his chin with a gentle and undeniable movement, while rubbing against the delicate and white skin of his cheeks.
"Then the little boy left. They said he left L.A. and went East. There was no more cowardly kid in school who was bullied and wouldn't fight back, and no one looked at me with silent, sad eyes, no matter what. I always looked like I was going to cry. I started to feel that if I lost something, I started to reflect on myself, and slowly felt that I had done something wrong, but I never had the chance to make it up."
"...Maybe he doesn't need your compensation." Deng Kaiwen said hoarsely.
"I also think he may not need it. Some things are wrong, and youth and ignorance cannot be a reason for making mistakes." Mitchell took a breath and said, "Later, I went to college, graduated, and became a policeman. I started I met all kinds of people and things. I have always been friendly, warm and sincere, and fulfilled the law and justice in my heart. I have never owed anyone or done anything during my years of police career. I can find a suitable way to solve any problem—although sometimes the means are not bright, but they are direct and effective.”
He was silent for a moment.
"Only that one summer, that one thing, made me feel guilty from beginning to end."
Deng Kaiwen lowered his eyelashes, avoiding his gaze. But Mitchell pressed his fingers between his brows, forcing his eyes to lift.
His hands were warm and strong, but his fingers were trembling slightly.
"For so many years, I have been thinking, if I meet that little boy again one day, I must do something for him." He paused, his Adam's apple slid up and down greatly, as if trying to restrain his emotions : "... At least I want to say to him in person, sorry, I have never forgotten you."
Deng Kaiwen's eyes were slightly red, and the fundus of his eyes was bloodshot.
"I know it's too late," Mitchell's voice was hoarse and trembling: "But Kevin, after all these years, do you still like me a little bit?"
"..."
"Even if it's just a tiny bit... Do you still have that tiny, tiny... do you like me a little bit?"
Their gazes were separated in the air, staring at each other so closely, as if they had returned to the sweltering and desperate summer more than ten years ago. The stale air rushes across time and space, the cicadas chirp on the big tree outside the empty classroom, and the albatross flaps its white wings and lands on the green shade of the tree.
After a while, Deng Kaiwen nodded tremblingly.
"If it's a little bit...then, yes."