"Fuck!"
After playfully teasing and fooling around with Isabella, when Louie was ready to drive home, he discovered that his beautiful Chevrolet had turned into a pile of scrap metal. A Chevrolet might not mean much to Louie, but what infuriated him was that someone dared to mess with him, daring to bomb his Chevrolet.
After completing the paperwork at the police station, Louie took a taxi back to his apartment.
Bessie had already prepared dinner, waiting for Louie to return. Seeing Louie open the door with an unpleasant expression, Bessie asked with concern, "Mr. Louie, are you feeling unwell?"
"No, just a bit tired," Louie smiled, indicating that there was nothing wrong. He washed his hands and sat at the dining table. Bessie also took a seat, serving Louie a bowl of rice.
"Mr. Louie, today I tried making a few dishes, experimenting beyond my usual ones," Bessie said with a lack of confidence, her eyes shifting nervously between the three dishes on the table, afraid they wouldn't meet Louie's taste.
Louie tasted a few bites, nodding repeatedly, and said, "Hmm, your skills are getting better."
"Then Mr. Louie, please eat more," Bessie said, relieved to hear Louie's compliment. She began eating herself.
Louie only ate half a bowl of rice before putting down his fork. He stood up and said, "I'm a bit tired today. There's a lot of work at the company. I'm going to rest. If there's any call, tell them I'm not here, okay?" After instructing Bessie, he returned to the bedroom and firmly closed the door.
"Daring to bomb my Chevrolet, you're as good as dead," Louie muttered through gritted teeth as soon as he entered the bedroom. He quickly turned on the computer, connected to the internet, and skillfully operated the keyboard, lines of strange characters and numbers continuously flowing across the screen. About half an hour later, Louie forcefully entered the Sradarc police system.
Although Louie wasn't a computer expert, he had a set of hacking software called the "Decoder." Originally designed for military purposes to infiltrate military networks and obtain critical military intelligence, the software was developed by a secret team in Country D. However, the software was later betrayed and sold. After obtaining the software, Louie sold it as a military accessory, providing it to several terrorist organizations, each copy priced above 2 million dollars, making a considerable fortune. In 2002, when a terrorist organization successfully infiltrated the American satellite system using the software, the United States quickly developed defensive software specifically targeting the "Decoder," causing it to lose its market and gradually become obsolete in the arms market.
But domestically, no one knew about this priceless software. Louie smoothly entered the Sradarc police system using this software, finding information related to the two explosions.
Through the observation of pictures from the explosion scenes and the extensive data extracted by the police, Louie analyzed that these two explosions were the work of the same person.
"Electromagnetic remote detonator." Louie, upon seeing a picture confirmed by the police as a standard detonator, drew from his extensive arms and weapons experience to identify the device in the image as an electromagnetic remote detonator. However, compared to detonators used in weaponry, this electromagnetic device appeared much simpler.
Quickly, Louie made a judgment that the person making the bombs wasn't an explosives expert but rather someone with knowledge of bomb-making, possibly just an ordinary enthusiast.
With a smirk on his lips, Louie leaned back in his chair, swiveling it back and forth. His right hand rested on the mouse, and with a gentle click, he finally exited the police system.
"You want to play, huh? Well, I'll play with you." Louie was confident, and a plan targeting the bomb maker had already formed in his mind...
Another day passed, and the police had made no progress in tracking down the bombing suspect. The phone number obtained from the surveillance center suggested that the criminal was likely living in Sradarc, as the phone number belonged to a public phone in the southern district.
Kathleen and her colleagues had been investigating all day without finding any useful leads. Kathleen, frustrated, slammed her fist on the table, startling her colleagues who were also studying the case.
"Damn it, where the hell is he?" Kathleen exclaimed in frustration. "Why don't we have any clues? Is he popping out of the ground suddenly?"
"Oprah, don't get too worked up. Sooner or later, the fox will reveal its tail," Titus walked over, lightly patting Kathleen's shoulder with his right hand. He smiled, saying, "I think it's getting late. You should go home, get some good rest. Tomorrow, we'll investigate the transient population again. According to my experience, if this suspect is a bomb expert, he likely infiltrated Sradarc recently. We might have missed some places, so tomorrow, we'll re-check all the hotels in Sradarc, and I bet we'll catch this suspect."
At this point, getting frustrated wouldn't solve the problem. Kathleen knew she needed to rest well now to calm her emotions. Thinking about it, Kathleen nodded and said, "Captain, I'll head home. If there's any new information, notify me immediately."
"Yeah, go ahead," Titus said.
Kathleen changed out of her police uniform, wearing a denim short-sleeved shirt on top and denim shorts on the bottom, revealing two slender and beautiful legs. Pushing her high-power motorcycle, Kathleen had just walked out of the police station when she saw Louie sitting on the roadside.
"Officer, you finally came out," Louie glanced at his watch. "According to normal quitting time, you're more than an hour late. I wonder if this hour counts as overtime."
"Is there something?" Kathleen wasn't in the mood for banter with Louie. She straddled her motorcycle, saying wearily, "I'm tired today, not in the mood for bantering with you. If you want to argue, maybe next time."
Louie blocked Kathleen's motorcycle, a dejected expression on his face. "Officer, I'm looking for you to have a drink and relax. I don't know how to say it, but I'm really upset. My newly bought car was just scrapped, and I haven't even insured it yet. I'm really on the verge of tears. I just want to find someone to have a drink with. After thinking about it, I thought of you, Officer."
"I'm not in the mood," Kathleen felt she didn't even have the mood to argue with Louie, only wanting to go home and sleep.
"Officer, I know you're troubled by the bombing case. However, perhaps going out for a drink might lift your spirits a lot," Louie said, and without asking for permission, he embraced Kathleen's slender waist, lifting her onto the motorcycle's rear seat.
"Jerk, what are you doing?" Kathleen angrily asked, "What do you think I am? Just because those prostitutes get paid when they're hugged by men doesn't mean you can just randomly hug me like this. Even if those prostitutes get paid when they're hugged by men, doesn't mean you can just randomly hug me like this. Do you believe I can arrest you right now and take you to the police station?"
"I absolutely believe it," Louie had already straddled the motorcycle, holding onto the handlebars with both hands. He chuckled, "Officer, hold on tight. I'm going to speed, and let's forget all the unpleasant things in the madness of speeding."