I’m A Detective In The Beauty World

Dean rushed into the bathroom, facing the sink, retching vigorously with his eyes closed. Sam also hurriedly followed and patted him on the back vigorously.

After a long time, Dean's entire face was flushed, and his eyes were bulging out high. When it looked like he was about to explode, he gave a "vomit" and finally squirted out from his mouth. A bite of blood.

"Pa", there is something hard in the blood.

Dean staggered back a few steps, and sat weakly on the ground, gasping for breath: "Damn it, don't be my visceral fragments..."

Sam frowned, took out a square object from the blood-splattered sink, rinsed it with water, and discovered that it turned out to be a piece of wood with only File size fingernails.

"what is this?"

"It looks like a piece of wood."

"I know it's wood chips, but why does it come out of my mouth?"

"I have to ask you, right?"

Sam looked at Dean suspiciously, and Dean waved his hand again and again: "I'm crazy, go eat that thing?"

Sam helped Dean walk out of the bathroom, and after throwing him on the sofa, he held the piece of wood and looked at it left and right: "This thing... looks like it peeled off from something, you see, there is rubbing on it. trace."

Dean covered his mouth and said, "Definitely there are signs of friction, after all, it was sprayed out of my throat."

"No, this rubbing mark should have been on it long ago, unless you have a steel plate in your throat." Sam rubbed the wood chips with his fingers, affirmed, "This is definitely rubbed on a hard object. The mark is very deep."

Dean said lazily; "Even so, how can we investigate this piece of wood alone? Unless this small town produces this piece of wood."

Sam was taken aback, looked at Dean suddenly, and said solemnly: "Remember the richest man in that dead town? There is a small timber processing factory under his family business."

Dean sat up and frowned, "Go on."

Sam continued: "When I met the sheriff today, I chatted with other police officers in the police station. I heard that there was a wood processing factory in the small town, and many small town residents worked in the factory. Unfortunately, with the economic crisis. , The richest man had to close the factory, but he paid a subsidy before closing, so the town’s residents were not too full."

"But just a month ago, the richest man suddenly restarted the wood processing factory and recruited many small town residents. Unfortunately, with the sudden death of the richest man, the factory shut down again."

Dean took the wooden block in Sam's hand: "You think there is a problem with that factory."

Sam shrugged: "At least it's a clue."

Dean thought for a while and threw the wood chips back to Sam: "Okay then, let's go see it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Go now and see your physical condition. I'm afraid you can't drag it anymore." Sam stood up and said anxiously, "This time I spit wood chips. What will I spit next time? Machine tools?"

Dean glanced at the window, it was dark outside: "But it's night now."

"so what?"

"It's not safe to go out at night."

"We have performed countless missions at night before, do you feel unsafe now?"

Dean also stood up and solemnly said: "I'm just about to talk to you about this, Sammy, don't you think our job is too dangerous? Eliminate the devil? What matters to us, see how we are now It’s not a normal person's life at all to live a life of chaos and displacement."

Sam said coldly: "I know you are sick now, Dean, so I won't quarrel with you. Now I will investigate the factory. As for you...doesn't love come."

Dean snorted coldly, "I won't go."

One hour later.

Dean got out of the car sneakily with a flashlight, and looked around warily.

"Let me say yes first, I am not afraid, I am just worried that you are in danger alone."

"Alright, alright, you have repeated this sentence more than 800 times on the road."

Sam shook his head helplessly and opened the trunk. The spacious trunk is stuffed with all kinds of munitions and weapons.

"No, this is yours."

Seeing the pistol in front of him, Dean was startled, and then shook his head vigorously: "This thing is too dangerous, I won't be banged."

Sam said helplessly: "There are salt bombs in it, and it can't kill Deadman. What's more, what if there is danger in the factory?"

"That's not okay, if the fire goes out, it hurts to hit the body." Dean held the flashlight tightly, "I'll just use this."

"whatever."

Sam knew that Dean was no longer able to communicate as normal people, so he curled his lips, holding a shotgun, and walked into the wood processing factory in front of him one after the other.

Those police officers were right. There were fresh traces of wheels in the courtyard. It was obvious that goods were shipped here a few days ago. Judging from the tire tracks, the truck is quite heavy.

Sam frowned and picked up a piece of wood from the ground. Under the flashlight in Dean's hand, he found that it was almost exactly the same as the wood that Dean spit out.

Except for the above, there are no serious signs of friction.

It can be confirmed that this place is definitely related to the fear virus circulating in the small town.

Sam's eyes flashed with surprise, and he led Dean into the workshop cautiously. The factory was in a mess. Obviously, there had been looting before it was closed, and it was probably done by workers who knew they were going to be unemployed again.

Dean followed behind Sam, holding a flashlight and looking at him vigilantly. Suddenly he saw a tall black figure in the corner, shaking his whole body in shock, and then he lay on Sam's shoulder and dared not look.

"It's okay, just a canvas."

Sam reluctantly stepped forward, reached out and pulled the canvas down, and found that the canvas was covered with two wooden boxes stacked. The wooden boards on the wooden boxes have not been ordered yet, and in the strict sense, they have not been finished. Perhaps because of this, no one snatched them away.

Sam patted the wooden box and smiled at Dean: "How is it, are you okay?"

Dean nodded pale, and looked left and right more nervously. And while his lights were shining, Sam suddenly saw a note pressed under the wooden box.

"The small town of Dirotcliffe..."

Sam looked at the handwriting on the note, frowning tightly.

At this moment Dean retreated Sam suddenly, and said in a deep voice, "Someone is coming."

Sure enough, there was a dazzling light outside the window of the broken workshop, and someone did indeed come.

Someone came to this horrible place at this time, and they certainly didn't want to do a good job.

Sam hurriedly pulled Dean into a machine tool and looked out carefully.

Fortunately, when I parked my car, I parked the Chevrolet Black Antelope on the small road opposite the road. The black light was so dark, it is estimated that no one should have noticed it.

With a "bang", the workshop door was pulled open with a kick.

One person walked in staggeringly, and then the car lights came in from the window, and Sam could see the other person clearly.

It turned out to be the town sheriff.

He saw his clothes all in tatters, and there were wounds with nails everywhere. He was holding a shotgun in his left hand and a gasoline can in his right hand.

"He wants to destroy the corpse and destroy the scene?"

Sam shook the shotgun in the handshake. His gun was filled with salt blocks that could repel spirits, not real bullets. If he squirts against the sheriff, he must not be able to squirt him.

"This is how to do?"

Sam looked at the sheriff who came in and poured gasoline around, gritted his teeth, reached out to Radion, prepared to attract the sheriff's attention, and let Dean take the opportunity to shoot down the sheriff.

However, he pulled a few times, and Dean, who was hiding behind him, did not respond. Sam looked back helplessly, but saw Dean staring blankly in the other direction, his mouth wide open, and he couldn't make a sound in shock.

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