American forensics, but the gourmet system

Chapter 79 Dinner and Yoga (Second Update, Please Subscribe!)

Inside the farm restaurant, frying pans sizzled.

A rich aroma wafted out with the sound, causing Aina and Mr. Clarkson to turn around frequently.

The members of the Major Crimes Unit had already rushed back to Brooklyn with Captain Hansen overnight. They still had work handover procedures to go through with the FBI, while Mr. Clarkson stayed behind with Kawhi Leonard.

A few minutes later, Russell came over carrying a plate of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and a plate of hot and sour shredded potatoes.

The farm has limited seasonings, but a decent selection of vegetables.

It's probably because they want to provide customers with lush green vegetable salads.

Moreover, out of respect for Miss Aina, the farm manager provided them with unlimited amounts of various roasted meats and sausages.

So Russell only cooked two appetizers.

Today, the group has been either fiddling with bones by the garbage dump or watching Russell fiddling with bones, so their appetites probably aren't very good. A couple of sweet and sour, or spicy and tangy side dishes would stimulate their appetites and prevent the various grilled meats from becoming too greasy.

Before even starting to eat, Mr. Clarkson gave Russell a thumbs-up: "The aroma alone is so appetizing—dr. Russell, didn't you cook something like this last time? How come I didn't realize you were such a good cook then?"

"Because last time you were worried that Little Ka might be some kind of evil puppy and didn't eat much food at all—" Russell said to Clarkson with a smile.

He picked up a piece of shredded potato with his chopsticks, chewed it, and the sour, slightly spicy taste instantly filled his mouth and nasal cavity.

My mouth started watering, and my stomach started to grow noticeably hungry.

Aina had already scooped a large spoonful of scrambled eggs with tomatoes into her rice. She ate with great elegance, but the food disappeared at an alarming speed.

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"Eat slowly." Russell pushed a whole plate of smoked grilled meat toward Aina. "There's more here—"

Little Ka was pacing anxiously on the ground when Mr. Clarkson tore off a chicken leg and threw it to him, at which point he began to devour it.

In reality, the three people and the dog were all eating heartily, and the restaurant was quiet except for the sound of Xiao Ka smacking his chicken leg.

Smacking your lips while eating is a bad habit, but this doesn't apply to puppies.

What's more, today Xiao Ka successfully helped them find the garbage mountain where the criminal gang hid the bodies, adding another brilliant chapter to its glorious record of finding corpses.

Hmm—fourteen strokes were added.

I should be able to add a few more strokes tomorrow.

So no one would criticize Kawhi Leonard. If Aina and Russell were in a better mood, they might even encourage him to smack his lips even louder.

When people are extremely hungry, they are often unwilling to talk. Only after food enters their mouths will the damn dopamine be secreted again, their mood improve, and they will start talking more.

The turning point came when two-thirds of the scrambled eggs with tomatoes disappeared and half of the shredded potatoes with hot and sour sauce disappeared.

"I'm really hungry today—" Aina said a little embarrassedly, "Do you guys usually eat this little when you're on a case?"

"I won't eat too little either." Russell shook his head. "Eating too little might leave me without energy, but eating too much can temporarily dull my mind—so when I have a case, I usually just have a sandwich and a cup of coffee for lunch."

"That's the general situation," Russell said, taking a sip of his cola. "Under some harsher conditions, appetite can be very poor, and you'll eat even less—"

"Is today's situation considered bad?" Mr. Clarkson asked.

"Of course it counts." Russell shrugged. "Not many officers in the entire Brooklyn Criminal Investigation Department spend an entire day standing next to a pile of old garbage while investigating a case—"

However, for Russell, this was not the worst-case scenario.

At the beginning of his forensic career, he encountered even more disgusting cases.

At that time, Russell forced himself not to recall the scene at the dinner table.

"By the way, are you really going to study for your doctorate under Professor Victor?" Aina asked Russell curiously.

This evening, when Professor Victor extended an invitation to Russell, Russell did not immediately accept or refuse the invitation; he simply said he needed to think about it carefully.

Professor Victor also expressed her understanding, after all, it was a major matter concerning career planning, and she certainly couldn't expect Russell to make a decision immediately.

"Perhaps," Russell said noncommittally. "Maybe I'll go to her for a PhD when I need it—but certainly not now."

"I think so too." Aina stood up from her chair and stretched. "I'll get another bowl of rice—don't say I eat a lot, Russell. Not even hints!"

Russell smiled and raised his hand to his mouth as if zipping up a zipper, indicating that he was closing his mouth.

Satisfied, Aina went to the kitchen.

Mr. Clarkson chuckled kindly.

Two hours later, Russell had finished washing up, changed into his pajamas, and was sitting on the sofa, lazily watching Aina stretch out her slender body on the carpet.

She changed into those gray-pink tight yoga pants and wore a dark-colored cropped sports vest.

As Aina stretched, her slender waist was fully revealed in front of Russell.

And those beautiful, alluring curves—

Russell suddenly felt a bit thirsty, so he pretended to pick up the water glass on the coffee table and took a sip to cover it up.

"Would you like to learn yoga?" Aina asked Russell, assuming a suggestive downward-facing dog pose. "I think it's great for joints and ligaments—"

Russell shook his head: "I'm too hard."

As soon as he said it, Russell realized that his words were rather ambiguous.

So he quickly tried to cover it up: "What I mean is, my flexibility is terrible—I can learn a few stretching exercises, but if I were to do these difficult poses like you, I'd rather be killed—"

Aina laughed: "Then let's learn a few basic poses together. Like this one, it's called Downward-Facing Dog, which can stretch your shoulders, back, and waist—"

Russell put down his water glass, knelt down next to Aina, and together they stuck out their buttocks into the downward-facing dog pose.

Aina turned around and couldn't help but laugh so hard she fell onto the carpet.

Even without looking in a mirror, Russell knew that his movements were definitely awful compared to Aina's.

If Aina's downward-facing dog pose is suggestive, then Russell's pose is utterly devoid of beauty.

Even after seeing Russell's Downward-Facing Dog pose, Kawhi Leonard still didn't want to play with him.

However, since Russell wasn't really interested in learning yoga anyway, he took the opportunity to feast his eyes on Aina's trembling laughter.

In the forensic profession, few people care about their own health, since the patients they deal with daily are often not very healthy.

After laughing enough, Aina finally straightened up and said seriously, "You're so charming when you're working, how come you look so ridiculous when you do yoga?"

"No one can be too perfect." Russell shrugged. "There always has to be room for others to shine—but you're an exception."

She's very attractive both at work and when doing yoga.

Upon hearing Russell's direct praise, Aina's lustrous earlobes involuntarily turned blush.

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