Chapter 118: Whips, Uniforms, and Buses._1
Traductor: 549690339
"Drip-drop, drip-drop..."
An open-top patrol car slowly approached, with three smartly dressed female officers seated inside.
Once at the intersection, one of the shapely policewomen stepped out, her sharp gaze sweeping the area. Spotting Colin waiting, she moved towards him.
"Was it you who made the call?" asked the buxom policewoman as she approached, clutching a leather whip in her hand, handcuffs and a baton hanging at her waist. Her scrutiny-filled gaze fixed on Colin.
"Yes, the person is over there. I just stepped outside and saw her lying there motionless."
Colin nodded and glanced at the objects in her hand—Where on earth did this scenario come from? Which police officers actually carry whips with them?
The person who set up "Passionate Paradise" must have never seen any real officers, right?
But as much as he scoffed inwardly, he dared not look too long for fear of triggering something else; then he pointed towards the "class beauty" under the streetlight.