Chapter 292: The Hero Who Has Not Yet Become a Hero

PS: The second update will be a bit later, sorry.

When Clyde and Mark started robbing the bank, Ma Ma Zhaodi had considered taking direct action to knock them both out.

He had the ability—despite losing the supernatural bonuses, he still possessed high-level firearm skills and master-level stealth; although the Blade of the Samurai could not be used, he could still buy other handguns.

But after thinking it over, he did not act directly; instead, he immediately secretly used someone else's phone to call the police.

"My identity information is all forged," he thought silently to himself: "If I knock those two out directly, the police will surely come to investigate me."

He hadn't had time yet to put all his data into government files—not to mention that most of the current files were still paper-based, requiring him to infiltrate directly. Even if he did get the information filed, he didn't really want to be noticed.

He had never lived in this universe, a fact that couldn't be forged; he didn't want a serious police officer to go to his birthplace and investigate thoroughly—what if they found something?

Besides, he had an Asian face.

So he rummaged through his item slot again, finally ruling out blow darts, and chose the least conspicuous method: stealing the bullets from the two brothers' guns and pockets.

For him, this operation actually had no difficulty; it was nothing more than replacing the magazines in their guns with empty ones—under the effect of the Master Stealth skill, Ma Ma Zhaodi's presence was quite thin, allowing him to completely avoid appearing in the other party's field of vision and attention. Catwoman had once praised Ma Ma Zhaodi's stealth foundation, saying he was a natural-born thief, blessed by the master, and had casually taught him a couple of pickpocketing tricks.

Although Ma Ma Zhaodi wasn't quite sure if Catwoman's words were praise or sarcasm, today when dealing with these two brothers, he performed quite well.

【You have acquired a new skill: Basic Pickpocketing Mastery】

After one real combat, pickpocketing was recognized as a skill.

"I'll just take it as a compliment."

Ma Ma Zhaodi scratched his head; he had to find a hotel and think carefully about what kind of job to take in this universe.

The only comforting point was that, since it was a stowaway method, the restrictions on legality had been lifted, and rewards obtained through normal labor could earn Asset Points.

Half an hour later, the bank entrance was completely sealed off by the police.

Police cars surrounded the area within the cordon, preventing any form of destruction at the scene; over a dozen officers entered and exited the bank, surveying the scene, investigating the situation of personnel inside, and recording their statements.

Two detectives in plain clothes exchanged case details at the bank entrance while observing the scene.

"According to the cashier's identification, it was Mark Madsen who fired the gun."

"What?"

The detective holding the coffee cup was stunned for a moment, then his face showed an expression of sudden realization: "Ah, I remember, the habitual offenders the Madsen brothers—oh my god, have those two started committing crimes again?"

The older black detective beside him nodded.

At this moment, a superior officer in a gray trench coat walked up to the two of them and asked casually, "Any leads?"

"The suspects shot and damaged the surveillance cameras, robbed money in the bank, and seemed to want to fight back against security personnel while escaping, but for some reason, they ultimately did not fire." The black detective spoke while handing two photos of the suspects to the officer; on them, a pair of blond brothers looked composed, with one even showing a contemptuous smile at the camera—these were indeed the two who robbed the bank.

The officer recognized them immediately upon seeing the photos; the Madsen brothers were habitual offenders, and these two photos were taken when they were previously caught committing crimes.

"I have already investigated from the Madsen brothers' former accomplices; it was these two who did it," the black officer continued: "These two couldn't rob anything, but one thing is slightly strange: they did not shoot at the pursuing officers. This is quite normal for the steady Mark, but it doesn't fit Clyde's style; this guy has always been hot-headed and brainless."

"Maybe his gun jammed." The officer shrugged: "It doesn't matter; catch them first, and we can ask the rest later—has the CSI (Crime Scene Investigator) arrived?" Hearing this question, the black detective's face showed a hint of embarrassment: "Uh, no."

"Allen didn't come? Then where did he run off to? Joe, you can't keep protecting him forever; if he's not here, we'll have to proceed with the investigation without him."

Just as the officer was scolding the black detective, a young voice finally came from the crowd of onlookers.

"Sorry, CSI, CSI, please make way!"

A young man in a hurried expression passed through the cordon and the officers, ran to the side of the three, and apologized awkwardly to the officer: "Sorry, Inspector Singh, I'm late."

Seeing the belated Allen, Singh's face showed an displeased expression; he mocked, "What's the reason for being late this time, Mr. Allen? Forgot to set the alarm clock? Think carefully before speaking; your last reason was that your car broke down."

Allen's face became even more embarrassed.

"Do you want to know why I've remembered this reason until now?"

"Uh, I don't have a car."

"Right."

At this moment, the black detective came out to defuse the situation: "He went on an errand for me—Barry, stop staring, give me the stuff."

Barry Allen's hand searched in his pocket for a long time, finally awkwardly pulling out a piece of pastry that had been bitten a few times.

The detective took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the anger in his heart.

"Get to work."

Barry dared not say more; he put on gloves and approached the tire tracks at the bank entrance. The moment his eyes landed on the evidence, his gaze immediately calmed down, entering work mode.

He quickly analyzed: "The escape vehicle was a Mustang; they have a specific model of car, twelve feet long, wide rear wheels, asymmetric tire marks—it's a Mustang GT500."

"According to the security personnel, they punctured the tires of the Madsen brothers' car while pursuing them," the black man said: "I will have someone check the surrounding auto repair shops to see if anyone came to repair a Mustang GT500 today."

"Not just that, there are some other things."

While speaking, Barry bent down to observe the small fragments in the tire tracks: "They look like fecal matter; we need to take samples and send them back for analysis."

"Anything else?"

Barry shook his head.

The black detective interjected: "There is one more thing that makes me a bit strange; we found the person who called the police based on the phone call, but he denied being the one who called."

"Then who did it?"

"I don't know; we can't check. The surveillance cameras inside the bank were damaged right at the beginning, and the people around all said they didn't see who the caller was."

"Then forget it." Singh waved his hand and turned to speak to Barry: "Mr. Allen, I hope you won't be late again next time—now, hurry up and do your job."

(End of Chapter)