"Demons, never dying?"
Upon hearing this, Dean smiled silently.
He turned to Portolia, whose complexion was pale with a hint of pink, "You and Merck can discuss how to deal with your cousin. I'm off work."
Now that he knew where the cannibal Demon was hiding, it was best to act quickly and secure the target, lest Merck and his unreliable FBI partner alert the Demon and cause it to flee again.
Portolia clearly didn't want to let Dean off so easily.
She grabbed Dean's right hand, "Detective Dean, my son's birthday is in a few days. Would you come to the party?"
Dean refused outright, "Sorry, I've got quite a bit on my plate recently..."
"Is it because I have a child?"
"Or is it because I'm of Japanese descent, which makes you, Detective Dean with Chinese blood, dislike me?"
Seeing her straightforwardness, Dean didn't bother to be polite. He nodded, turned around, and left.
He wasn't lacking for women. There was no need to get entangled with a widow for a moment's pleasure.
