North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws

Because of Mike Smith's deception, Ona hadn't dared to enter the third floor, leaving the things Mike Smith had left behind intact.

But one thing doesn't add up. Mike Smith's son, Little Mike, was an invalid who couldn't even care for himself. Why would those madmen still keep him?

...

With this question in mind, Dean turned the page and continued reading:

The misfortunes of my childhood cultivated my twisted desires.

My lover passed away.

Little Mike also suffered from congenital emotional deficiency syndrome.

I lost my emotional support.

So, I couldn't help but commit certain transgressions to unleash my misplaced and violent depravity, making myself the supreme master over a group of innocent children.

I greatly enjoyed the perverse pleasure of controlling those children's bodies and minds.

But then, misfortune struck.

My son, Little Mike, possessed talents I had never witnessed before: absolute calmness, an eidetic memory, and an astonishingly rapid learning comprehension ability!

Can you imagine a child, merely six years old, effortlessly mastering the basic educational curriculum 'from enlightenment to university'?

Had these gifts appeared in a normal child, they would undoubtedly be a blessing from God!

But for a child suffering from emotional deficiency, whose brain was not yet fully developed, it was akin to forcing a colt to pull a locomotive—tantamount to suicide!

I did my utmost merely to ensure Little Mike's basic survival.

He had to be riddled with injection needles just to sustain his brain's energy consumption.

This caused me immense pain!

This situation only improved after I taught Little Mike how to construct his own memory palace, thereby alleviating the strain on his brain.

But as he grew older, he became like a robot. Interested only in knowledge, he communicated with me less and less, until eventually, days would pass without us exchanging a single word.

I knew he yearned to regain his lost emotional perception, so I began to help him more diligently. I gathered various kinds of knowledge, helped him build a laboratory, and even guided him through basic biological experiments.

It became apparent that my precious son merely lacked emotional perception; he wasn't truly a machine. He had his own desires and cravings.

He was like a blind person. Though unable to see the world's colors, he could discern the rough shapes of objects by touch. He simply had no mental concept of scenery described by others.

This brought me comfort. Because with my careful guidance, Little Mike could, if he wished, already disguise himself and live as a normal person. He simply considered communicating with those of low intelligence a waste of time.

So, much of the time, he was like a child with autism, living solely in his own world...

The text on the second page of the letter ended abruptly here.

Dean stroked his chin.

It seems Mike Smith was very fond of his son. But is there really such a monstrous child in the world?

Dean, with his Spirit attribute of 13, was somewhat skeptical.

With anticipation, he turned to the next page of the letter:

All that was good came to an end when Little Mike turned eight!

I discovered something fatal.

Things spun out of control!

The children I had 'tamed' grew up and spun out of my control!

They developed minds of their own!

Damn it!

Those who play with people's hearts will eventually be devoured by those very hearts!

I only wanted to satisfy my twisted and hideous desires under the pretext of reviving the 'Source of Suffering,' but those bastards actually took it seriously!

They began secretly bringing homeless black children back to the base to cultivate, brainwash, and train them. They even discussed forming an academic tyranny in the future, having these children join the army once they grew up.

In little more than a decade, the Source of Suffering organization would rise again, cloaked in a facade, and become a legitimate Evil Organization!

I was terrified, yet somewhat expectant.

At that moment, I had the chance to end the impending nightmare.

But greed caused me to completely lose that opportunity.

My fate was sealed that day, four years prior.

On January 1, 2001, I received their 'notification': My son, Little Mike, now twelve, was ready for the organization's indoctrination!

Those madmen actually wanted Little Mike to follow the same path as me!

I would absolutely not allow this to happen!

Of course, I didn't dare refuse.

To earn their trust, I took Little Mike and Bagga to the secret base.

Bagga was a Japanese Akita dog, whom I had originally gotten to amuse Little Mike and alleviate his boredom. However, Little Mike clearly had no interest in creatures of low intelligence.

Instead, the dog became a little pet that alleviated Ona's boredom.

To protect Little Mike, I had him cooperate with me in a staged act. I then performed some cruelties upon Bagga, leaving the bloody instruments of torture behind.

Everything went smoothly.

I buried Bagga beneath a large tree.

After I returned, Ona was heartbroken over Bagga's 'disappearance' for several days.

Until today...

January 16th, I received their invitation.

They had discovered my little trick.

I knew I was very likely doomed.

So, I left these things behind.

If I don't return, please, you must eliminate the Source of Suffering and protect my son, Little Mike!

He is genuinely brilliant and, at his core, guileless. As long as you promise to help him regain his lost emotional perception and guide him with good intentions, he will assist you.

If you are members of the Source of Suffering, then it's likely Ona has run into trouble.

Promise me.

Do not hurt that child.

He won't mind if you kill me, his father.