Ke Xue: My standards for dating are not problematic!

Chapter 41: The Old Tradition – Empty the Magazine! (Please Read On)
Interpol division in New York, USA.

Fergus, who was flipping through the files, twisted his stiff neck, glanced out the window, and was taken aback: "It's already so late."

"Everyone else has already gone home. We'll look at the rest of the files tomorrow."

Fergus stretched, put the documents on the table into his drawer, locked it, and left his desk, turning off the light as he did so.

Then, the entire office area was plunged into darkness.

Soon.
Fergus drove his car away from the Interpol headquarters and headed towards his home.

But not long after, he ran into trouble.

Several fully armed police officers appeared ahead and signaled him to pull over.

Seeing this, Fergus felt somewhat frustrated, even annoyed, but helpless, and even somewhat used to it.

Because of his skin color, he often suffers discrimination and harassment from certain people.

Among them were police officers from New York City.

Fergus didn't say anything, skillfully parked the car on the side of the road, rolled down the window, and raised his hands.

"Hey, we're doing a routine check, take out your driver's license."

A policeman wearing sunglasses walked over, his right hand always resting on his pistol.

In addition, three police officers were standing around the car, doing the same thing.

It's no wonder they're so cautious; the environment in the US isn't great, so these guys just have to make do.

"OK."

Fergus glanced at the policeman and reached into the car's glove compartment to retrieve his driver's license.

"Don't move! Put your hands up!"

Suddenly, the police officers outside the car window drew their pistols, switched off the safety, and pointed the dark muzzles at him.

Fergus broke out in a cold sweat and immediately withdrew his hand, raising it again: "Hey! Don't fire it, I'm not a criminal, I'm an Interpol agent, one of our own."

Although he is not a New York City police officer, he is an Interpol agent.

Rounding it off, we're considered one of our own.

And he was genuinely afraid that these guys' pistols might accidentally go off.

"One of our own?"

The four police officers exchanged glances, completely disbelieving Fergus's nonsense.

The New York police have learned their lesson; countless colleagues have been killed by these cotton growers.

Therefore, they had to be cautious.

“It’s true. I have Interpol identification on me, and my driver’s license is with me too.” Fergus didn’t make any rash moves.

He wouldn't move without the police's permission.

Otherwise, you could easily be shot to death; these are lessons learned in blood.

“OK, slowly extend your hand, don’t do anything unnecessary,” the New York police officer warned.

Fergus nodded, his hand slowly reaching into his jacket pocket, but he didn't find his Interpol ID.

He instinctively reached into his pants pocket.

This wouldn't be a problem if it were placed elsewhere.

But he forgot one important thing: this is New York, this is America, and his ancestors grew cotton.

In this situation and context, his reaching across his waist to grab something was a fatal problem.

What's more, Fergus really is an Interpol agent, and an armed one at that.

so.
"This guy has a gun!"

It's unclear which policeman shouted something, but then a series of gunshots rang out.

bang bang bang bang bang bang
Bullets pierced Fergus's chest, riddling his upper body with holes, until the magazine was emptied.

Upon hearing the gunshots, passersby and vehicles were terrified. Drivers and passengers lay motionless inside their vehicles, while pedestrians began searching for cover.

"Jack!"

One of the police officers shouted something.

Jack nodded, changed the magazine, walked over with his gun, opened the car door, and checked Fergus's injuries and the gun on his body.

“Captain, he’s dead, and he had a gun on him, no Interpol ID, and his driver’s license was in the car,” Jack shouted.

Upon hearing this, the captain nodded and then gestured to another officer: "Search his car."

"Yes!"

Police then found a bag of white powder in Fergus's car.

Shortly afterward, police cars arrived with sirens blaring.

Didan Primary School.

Kitahara Natsuhiro stood at the school gate, looking at Conan beside him. "Conan, do you need me to take you home?"

Upon hearing this, Conan immediately shook his head and refused without hesitation: "No need, I can go back by myself. Goodbye, Kitahara-sensei."

As soon as he finished speaking, Conan started running.

If he could, he never wanted to see Kitahara Natsuyu again; nothing good ever happened whenever he encountered Kitahara Natsuyu.

And he's always the one who's unlucky.

He felt that Kitahara Natsuhiro was his nemesis.

If he could, he would never want to see Kitahara Natsuyu again in his life, but he couldn't, unless his body returned to its original state, so he could avoid him.

You can't afford to offend them, but you can avoid them.

Kitahara Natsuyu watched Conan's hasty retreat and smiled brightly: "Conan, don't forget your homework and copying the school rules ten times. I'll check tomorrow."

Conan, who hadn't run far, almost tripped when he heard this.

This guy is a devil!

After watching Conan disappear from sight, Kitahara Natsuhiro turned and left.

"Oh! I'm such a responsible and good teacher."

"I'll go to the supermarket near the apartment to buy some groceries first, and then go home."

"But what should we eat today?"

What to eat for dinner is one of the three major choices in life.

It really makes people bald.

"How about we text Huangzi and ask?"

Kitahara Natsuyu has always been a man of action, and immediately sent her ten dish names, asking her to choose three from them.

then
Akiko: [Are you a devil?!]

"Hahaha!"

Upon seeing the text message from Akiko, Kitahara Natsuhiro couldn't help but burst into laughter.

It's so great to play with Huangzi every day.

He's easy to get beaten up, but he enjoys it nonetheless.

Kitahara: [I'm about to make dinner. Would you like to come over for dinner?]

Akiko: [No! I'm going to learn some karate.]

Kitahara: [Why?]

Akiko: [For beating you up!]

Kitahara: [I know a little martial arts. I can teach you, for free, and I can even be your sparring partner.]

Akiko: [Hmph! I've seen through you, I'm not falling for your tricks!]

She had already seen through Kitahara Natsumi's true colors; he was only after her body, though she herself was also lusting after him.

Kitahara smiled knowingly upon seeing the text message and continued to ask.

What did you see through me?

Akiko: [I'm not telling you.]

Kitahara: [Alright then. I'll go cook. Are you really not coming?]

Huangzi: [Thanks for the invitation, please leave gracefully!]

"Huangzi, what good thing happened? You're smiling so happily."

Minori Nakamura walked over.

Upon hearing this, Akiko Yonehara smiled and said, "It's nothing, I just ran into an idiot."

"Fool?"

Minori Nakamura looked at Akiko's smiling face and understood.

It seems that things are going smoothly for these two.

"Huangzi, what are we going to eat later?"

"What should I eat? I don't know, but I really want to eat Chinese food."

"Chinese cuisine? Sure."

"Also, Shiri, would you like to come with me to take a cooking class?"

"what?"

On the other side, Kitahara Natsuhiro encountered a familiar person on the street.

"Miss Yoko!"

(End of this chapter)