Although Las Vegas is often referred to as the "Sin City," its crime rate is actually relatively low, especially when compared to other major cities in North America. To prevent the deterioration of public safety, Clark County, where Las Vegas is located, still enforces a ban on prostitution, even though Nevada is the only state in the USA where it is legal.
The nickname "Sin City" originated in the 1930s and 1940s. After the Great Depression hit the entire country, this city, established by gangsters, capitalized on the situation to legalize gambling. Due to its indelible gangster background and certain religious connotations (gambling being associated with greed, one of the seven deadly sins), Las Vegas naturally earned the title of "Sin City" alongside its reputation as a gambling hub.
In reality, to protect the safety of tourists—the economic lifeblood of the city—Las Vegas Police Department (LVPD) patrol cars, with flashing lights, appeared on various streets almost within five minutes after the power outage occurred.
At the same time, Jane Banner's phone rang. After a brief conversation, she turned to Jack with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Jack. We've been called back to headquarters to stand by."
What she didn't know was that Jack felt a mixture of relief and a hint of indescribable melancholy at the same time. It was clear that if not for this unexpected incident, tonight would have been a sleepless night. Jane's earlier glances had made it obvious that she was treating this as a date, and Jack wouldn't have had a good excuse to turn down the "second round."
What else could he say? Emphasize again that he already had a girlfriend? Jane hadn't cared about that before; they almost crossed a line in Wyoming. If he kept bringing it up, it might even end their friendship.
"If you're ever back in LV alone, let me know ahead of time." Sure enough, Jane planted a red lipstick mark on Jack's lips before leaving gracefully, while the dim light around them only served to highlight the envious, jealous, and hateful gazes from some onlookers.
Jack sighed lightly, wearing a smile that was a mix of wistfulness and regret. Just as he finished paying the bill and was about to put away his wallet and phone, a sudden call made him tense up.
Thankfully, the caller ID showed it was Rossi and not one of the girls. The fear of being "caught" flashed through his mind but quickly dissipated.
"Jack, I hope I'm not disturbing you. I heard you're in Las Vegas?" Rossi asked directly.
"Uh, yes. Is something up? I was just heading back to the hotel." Jack glanced at the time; it was already past midnight.
Rossi's voice carried a hint of apology. "As you might have noticed, LV is experiencing an unprecedented blackout. The crime lab there has run into some trouble—they're investigating a recently reported child disappearance case."
"The problem is that while the lab's backup generator is working, it can only keep the most crucial evidence storage operational. All their computers, analyzers, data recognition systems, and other high-tech equipment are down."
Hearing the slight schadenfreude in Rossi's tone, Jack couldn't help but smile.
"So they thought of us?"
"Yes, and I thought of you. Care to lend a hand?" Rossi enjoyed Jack's sharp intuition.
"It would be an honor."
Rossi immediately sent Jack the address of the crime scene, where D.B. Russell, the head of the Las Vegas CSI lab, was waiting for him. When Jack arrived, the storm had subsided, but the ground was still wet. Police cars and a few black SUVs from the CSI lab were parked in front of a castle-like mansion.
D.B. Russell, a silver-haired yet energetic old man, who looked a bit like an older Hunter—tall, thin, and wearing black-rimmed glasses—seemed surprised by Jack's youth when they met. Standing beside him was a short, stocky man in a suit, with a black checkered tie and a police badge on his chest, exuding an old-school detective vibe.
When Jack got out of the car, both men approached him, introducing themselves. Although they hid it well, there was a hint of disappointment in their eyes.
After all, psychologists are different from lab analysts—education alone doesn't guarantee success. In the elite educational system of the USA, true geniuses are never in short supply. But psychology, especially criminal psychology, is different. This seemingly mystical way of solving cases relies heavily on experience and accumulation, and Jack's overly youthful appearance naturally made him seem unreliable.
The short, stocky man introduced himself as James Brass, a detective in the LVPD's major crimes unit. Jack had only a vague impression of him and Russell.
No surprise there—CSI: Crime Scene Investigation had a long run, lasting 15 years and spawning numerous spin-offs, all of which were also long-running shows. CSI: Miami aired for 10 years, while CSI: New York lasted 9 years, both becoming major hits.
Because of this, CBS was once humorously dubbed the Crime Broadcasting System.
"This car is nice. I always wanted one to pick up girls when I was younger," Russell said, patting the hood of Jack's Firebird, not caring about the water droplets on it.
"Looks like we have similar tastes." Jack had just finished shaking hands with James Brass when he noticed a woman in a CSI uniform jacket walking out from the mansion's entrance toward them.
"What are you doing out here? Stargazing?" The woman, who could still be described as somewhat charming, brightened up upon seeing Jack. She raised a hand and deliberately brushed back her hair.
"Hi, handsome. Are you the angel sent to rescue me on this miserable night?"
Jack awkwardly cleared his throat, extending his hand to shake hers, and humbly replied, "Hello, Jack Tavoler. Just call me Jack. I'm with the BAU, here to provide some help where I can."
His awkwardness didn't come from the woman's playful joke but from the fact that he had seen her feeding milk to the Homelander. If he remembered correctly, the actress playing this unknown forensic expert had also portrayed a rather famous character—Madelyn, the love interest of the evil Superman in the comic-adapted series The Boys.
"This is our blood spatter expert, Julie Finlay," D.B. Russell introduced her.
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