Super Detective in the Fictional World

(Thanks to allied reader 20200713171543009147044 for his support of the book)

Come to think of it, what happened today when Max jumped into the sea and ran away might be the reason why she had just made a fortune, and that money was the profit from the yacht gang's order of party desserts.

Max has a good talent for making cakes and a certain interest in them.

She's made too many cakes with Luke, and although many times it's a cry for God to leave the scene, Luke has "traded off" and filled her consciousness with the skills of a regular dessert maker.

It's a long process, and it's a little bit of a transfer from the ground up, essentially the same as if Max had been studying his craft in earnest for over a decade.

There are still dozens or hundreds of villains that Luke has killed that have the ability to be a dessert maker, and those that have one or two personal "secret techniques" are hard to count.

These techniques are fused together with free skill modules to become primary dessert maker abilities.

Max, who has been "topped up" by the primary ability for many years, is definitely capable of working as a dessert chef in a top restaurant.

Although she can't cover the money due to her possession of a poor god, the number of people who are looking for her to make desserts for parties is increasing.

It is not necessary or affordable to hire a third-rate chef for the occasional holiday for an average American family.

Customized desserts plus a few live shows of the most fancy cream pulls start at a net profit of a thousand dollars a time.

For the sake of money, Max would still accept some custom live show business as appropriate.

Of course, dressing up in a real chef's outfit and accepting praise as a dessert chef is one of the reasons why it's "so little".

Today, her custom-made business and performance venue would have been another mansion a few hundred meters away.

The organisers, including some of the rich kids, decided to go out to sea and get high on the yacht.

The veteran driver Max didn't even have to think about it, she knew that the guys must have wanted to get high on some weed.

She'd been clean for years, but it was none of her business if people got high.

Luke had pumped her full of Life One over the years, and in his spare time would personally teach her intimate joint techniques, all of which were the kind that could break (dislocate) limbs in seconds.

Without a super-powered rich kid, Max would have no trouble crippling ten of them at a time.

When she met a super-powered person, then the nano-breast guard he gave her was enough to protect herself for a while.

There were obviously no powerful people on that yacht, at least not on her, or else the nanobrace that sensed the danger would automatically activate, take her on the run, and send an alert to Luke.

It was at this point that Luke remembered his other "female counterpart": "Where's Caroline?"

With Max's behavior of going ashore and singing RAP right there and not immediately calling for help, Caroline couldn't have been on the yacht.

But...wasn't this formerly rich white woman's favorite way to dabble in this kind of bespoke live show for rich people's parties?

Even though Caroline is as talented in the culinary arts as her pectoral muscles - unimpressive - she knows all the rules and unspoken rules of high society.

She also has a very strong flair for showing off and performing (valley yawn), with a top-notch oratorical skillset, and Max can be very cool with only a third of her skills explained next to her.

On the other hand, without Max's craft, the hardware she can show off would be missing the most crucial part.

Therefore, she should usually be near Max at these parties.

Max held Luke with his hands behind his back, feeling the strong ocean breeze on his face, and sniffed just loud enough to, "She's in charge of the finished dessert delivery and commentary at the villa."

Luke: ...Well, Caroline is actually pretty miserable.

If you don't take into account the two rich people's mess, Max can go to the yacht show craft as a "star", but Caroline can only watch the "booth", how to look like an odd-job tool people.

But then, that's the only way to take Max to do the job and then go to the "tool man" Caroline.

The motorboat, Luke thought, was about a kilometer to the east when he found the yacht.

The three-decked yacht, more than twenty meters long, was crowded with people and sometimes cheering and shouting.

With his eyesight, he could also see a few young girls wearing only the bottom half of their little cloth belts holding glasses of wine and spinning and dancing around a group of men, feeding it into their mouths on the way.

The little brats were having quite a good time. Luke had a grin on his lips.

The motorboat skidded to a halt with a lurch, just parallel to the yacht, ten meters off the stern.

Using inertia, Luke grabbed Max and soared up, over the board guardrail, and landed lightly into the yacht's rear deck inside the sea fishing deck.

The weightlessness scared Max into biting down on the towel covering his face and making frantic whining noises in his mouth and nose: this was too damn exciting, who could stand up to it.

The two black T-shirt security guards on the back deck were originally chatting over beers.

The boss's son's high is envied by them, but they can't do anything else but have a good time.

What's worse, they had to face the dark sea here to avoid some people getting high and going crazy and going for a night swim from here.

Can't even glance at the posh little models and college girls on the deck in front of them.

Until a dull whine caught their attention and they shifted their gaze just in time to meet up with Luke and Max, who were floating to the ground.

One of the security guards had reacted quickly and had spoken up, "Hey, this is a private yacht, where'd you guys come up from?"

That said, they weren't very vigilant.

Luke wasn't overdressed, but security who'd been with those dudes for a long time could tell right away that it wasn't a big roadblock.

Max? She was wrapped in a large towel not to mention, but also covered her face, and some of the fooling around but afraid of being photographed after a thousand girls do similar.

In addition, here has been nothing, they bragged when they did not pay attention to the back deck of the water, thought Luke two people jumped from the front, and climb up from behind.

Luke looked at the system panel: well, okay, it was two little red names. No big mistake, but no need to be polite.

Nonchalantly, he put Max down, making sure she could stand firm, before he walked towards the two security guards.

"Careful. He doesn't seem to be a guest." The security guard who fell behind sensed something was wrong and opened his mouth to warn his companion, his hand also reaching to his waist and pulling out a folding shiv, which he threw away with a click.

The security guard who walked past sniffed and reached to his waist with his hand as well.

The moment his hand touched the shifting stick, Luke raised his left hand and chopped his face with a big, right-handed slap to the face.

SLAP!

In Luke's eyes, Security's cheek began to fluctuate from stress out, then slowly twisted to one side before bringing his body around seven hundred and twenty degrees with him.

The eyes stood swaying blindly for a moment before the guy slammed upright onto the deck with a thud.

The more vigilant security guard in the back looked shocked, dancing slowly with a flail in his hand and backing away from the body while opening his mouth to shout a warning, "Note..."

In a blur, Luke's figure was already standing in front of him.