131: Chapter 131 Professional Detective Gugu Gaga

Before Thompson could say anything, Agor continued, "Besides time reversal, we also have a series of methods like memory extraction, causal backtracking, and so on."

Thompson's mouth hung open; at that moment, he suddenly understood why Black Panther said Chen Mu was observing them.

The gap between their Blue Star Civilization and the Guga Civilization was simply too vast—far beyond what an analogy like ants versus a bulldozer could explain; it was more like ants versus the Blue Star itself.

He had once watched a sci-fi movie where aliens feared the technological explosion of the people of Blue Star, so they imposed restrictions on Blue Star or abolished its technology.

Only after hearing Agor's explanation did he truly understand that such a notion was complete nonsense, or rather, it was a concept that could only exist between two civilizations of similar strength.

As for the Guga Civilization and the Blue Star Civilization, one might sum it up in a single sentence: "I will give you time to catch up, until you can no longer even see me in the distance."

A moment later, he asked, "If time reversal can directly show the process of an incident, memory searching can directly extract images from a witness's brain, and causal backtracking can deduce all causes from the results, then why does your civilization still have crime?"

Agor tilted her head, "Because technology is just a tool."

"Tools cannot replace judgment. Time reversal can let you see what happened, but it cannot let you understand why."

"Memory searching can let you see what the suspect saw, but it cannot let you judge whether what they saw was real."

"Even causal backtracking is not omnipotent; there are many terrifying existences that can alter or even erase causal lines."

Thompson understood; this problem also existed on Blue Star, known as high-tech crime.

As a civilization's technology improves, the technology of criminals also improves, which means that no matter how much technology advances, it is impossible to eliminate all crime solely through technology.

It felt quite a bit like using one's own spear to attack one's own shield.

"Gugu Gaga!"

A sharp cry erupted from knee-height, yanking him violently from his thoughts.

The little penguin was wearing a pair of orange sunglasses and striking a handsome hero-entrance pose.

Thompson turned to look at Agor, "Where did she get those sunglasses?"

Agor leaned against the elevator doorframe, "She has her own personal space."

"Personal space?"

"A portable sub-space folding pouch. Standard equipment for Guga Planet cubs, used for storing personal items."

"She prepared a lot of fun props for this Blue Star vacation."

Thompson glanced at the little penguin posing with sunglasses, his worldview refreshed once again.

Gugu Gaga was clearly dissatisfied with his hesitation; she retracted her fin-arms from her waist, took off her sunglasses, and then pointed with one fin toward the window at the end of the corridor, letting out a short cry: "Ga!"

This time, without needing Agor to translate, Thompson understood that she was urging him to get going.

City Hall is located in Lower Manhattan, a fifteen-minute drive from the Interstellar Police Department headquarters.

They were driving the standard patrol car issued by the police department, with the Interstellar Police Department logo printed on the side; the vehicle was equipped with the most advanced AI autonomous driving on Blue Star, capable of fully hands-free operation.

Thompson sat in the driver's seat with his electronic notebook on his lap, the screen displaying basic information about Mayor Coleman.

Fifty-seven years old, serving two consecutive terms, no major political scandals, and an approval rating that had remained around fifty-five percent before A-Zu appeared.

He had an ex-wife and two adult sons, all living on the West Coast. His office was on the east side of the third floor of City Hall; he arrived at work promptly at six every morning and didn't leave until after eight at night.

A rustling sound came from the back seat.

Thompson glanced in the rearview mirror; Gugu Gaga was standing on the back seat, using her two fins to pull things out of thin air.

She pulled out a plaid deerstalker hat, a magnifying glass, and a tan trench coat.

She quickly put on the full set of equipment, pressed the magnifying glass against her right eye, looked at her reflection in the car window, and nodded with satisfaction.

"What is she doing now?" Thompson asked.

"Sherlock Holmes," Agor said, "She got hooked on a Blue Star detective novel series at your place yesterday."

The patrol car pulled up in front of the City Hall building.

It was a granite building constructed in the early 20th century, with the New York City flag and the Guga flag hanging above the main entrance.

There were three times as many guards at the entrance as usual, and a small line of officials was checking IDs, everyone looking solemn.

A man wearing a New York Police Department uniform was leaning against a pillar in the portico; seeing the white patrol car pull up, he straightened his posture.

Thompson pushed open the car door, and the man walked up to meet him.

"Thompson, you're finally here." Leon extended a hand and patted his shoulder firmly, "I'll leave this matter to you."

"Leon? Aren't you in Raccoon City? How did you get transferred to New York?" Thompson recognized him instantly; as former classmates from the police academy, the two hadn't seen each other for nearly a decade.

"Raccoon City." Leon snorted through his nose, "Most of the surrounding cities are now requesting to relocate to New York."

"After all, you know, with the Ball Chief stationed here, it's definitely safer than outside. So I applied for a transfer and just arrived the day before yesterday."

Thompson said nothing, because he knew that the so-called safety was merely New York's facade; the colosseum was its true core.

"Gugu Gaga!"

The little penguin popped out from somewhere and was now standing in front of Leon, head tilted up, the deerstalker hat sitting squarely on her head, the magnifying glass pressed to her right eye, the hem of her trench coat fluttering slightly in the morning breeze.

She scanned Leon from head to toe with the magnifying glass, then looked down at the lens, seemingly checking to see if any clues were displayed on the surface.

Finally, she looked up and let out a calm and professional "Ga."

Leon looked down at the penguin, which only reached his knees and was dressed in a full detective outfit, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Is this your detective forensic examiner?"

"She is my daughter." Agor stepped out of the car, her long hair shimmering with a black luster in the sunlight, "She is currently on vacation."

Leon looked at Agor, then back down at Gugu Gaga, his lips moving slightly, but he ultimately chose not to ask any questions.

On his first day working at the New York Police Department, he had already learned this rule of survival.

"Where's the autopsy report?" Thompson broke the silence.

"Still in the forensic department. It should be out in about half an hour."

"Send the preliminary version to my phone first. Also," Thompson pointed overhead at the surveillance cameras mounted on the exterior wall of City Hall every few meters, "send over all surveillance footage from around this building for the past forty-eight hours."

Leon made an OK gesture.

The little penguin turned to face the City Hall gate, held her magnifying glass high above her head, and let out a loud "Gaga" at the heavy oak doors.

This time, all three people present understood what she meant: follow along, and don't dawdle.