You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Lyon was worried about where to get money after spending his 300 points. He thought he would be stuck at home for another month of paid leave.

As a result, Stone, this "great philanthropist," actually suggested that he go back to the streets to grind monsters earlier?

That's great!

Lyon tried hard to stop himself from laughing out loud, but he just couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

To Stone, that expression seemed very strange.

Stone's sneer froze.

He had wanted to see Lyon's handsome face fall, to see Danvers fly into a rage, but Lyon's current state...

Just like a slacker who had just been told by his boss that he had to go back to the company to work overtime for free over the weekend, his eyes were actually glistening with tears of emotion.

"Sir, do you...do you really think so?"

Leon sat up straight, placed his hands on the table, and stared intently at Stone.

"To be honest, when Commander Danfoss told me to go home and rest, I felt filled with self-blame and confusion."

"Crime rates are soaring in Seattle, taxpayers are crying, my colleagues are struggling in the mud, and I'm supposed to be hiding in my apartment drinking iced cola?"

"This is an insult to my badge!"

"Thank you, Commander Stone, thank you for seeing through my heart that yearns to dedicate myself."

"Please be sure to suggest to your superiors that, if possible, I can rejoin the unit tomorrow. I don't need a psychologist, I don't need a cooling-off period, all I need is a patrol car fully loaded with ammunition and a full tank of gas!"

"I love working overtime, I love Seattle, I even love those damn paper reports!"

Are you even human, you bastard?!

Stone's face instantly turned as black as if it had been coated with asphalt.

He stared at Lyon, his previous sense of superiority and control completely gone.

He felt that the kid was definitely doing it on purpose, using an extremely exaggerated and sarcastic tone to mock his punishment for being ineffective.

It feels like you slapped someone hard, only to find out they're a jerk who not only slapped their other cheek but also asked you, with obvious delight, if you could slap them harder.

"You...you...are very good!"

Stone gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words. He felt that every second he stayed in this room was a form of mental pollution from this kid.

"It seems Officer Vance doesn't need a psychological evaluation; what you probably need is an appointment slip for a mental hospital."

He grabbed the folder from the table, his movements chaotic and disheveled. "Let's go!"

He grabbed his colleague, who had been diligently taking notes, and without even exchanging pleasantries, hurriedly pushed open the door and fled the conference room as if his life depended on it. Stone's rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor.

An eerie silence fell over the conference room.

Sergeant Danfoss stood there with his mouth agape, his hand, which was about to slam his fist on the table, still hovering in mid-air.

He looked at Leon as if he were a monster, and finally let out a long, heavy breath.

"Leon, I've always felt you had some kind of serious illness, but today I'm sure of it..."

Danfoss rubbed his face, feeling a bit of a headache, and sat back down in his chair.

"You're a fucking genius. Stone's face just now was as interesting as if he'd swallowed a greenbottle fly whole."

Leon chuckled, slumped back in his chair, and casually pulled a piece of chewing gum from his pocket.

"Sir, I'm serious. If he can really get me back on patrol sooner, I'll definitely write a thank-you letter to the Internal Affairs Department."

Danfoss also pulled an unlit cigar from his pocket, put it in his mouth, and gnawed at it.

"Alright, stop acting in front of me, Leon. Stone is as petty as a pinhead."

"Since he made such a tough statement about shortening your vacation, he will definitely use his pitiful connections to expedite the process. The procedure will definitely be very fast, and the reinstatement notice will probably be sent to your email by the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Since you really think not having leave isn't a bad thing, then I'm too lazy to worry about it for you. This matter is basically over. With my and Bob's testimonies, plus the fact that the other side did pull out a gun, the Internal Affairs Department can't do anything about it."

"Even so, you still have to stay home these next few days. Don't go to bars and mess around, and don't let the media catch you dancing with a stripper in the street or fighting in bed, understand? Otherwise, even Jesus can't save you."

"I'll let Bob, that old rascal, handle the report. He's a master at this kind of science fiction art."

"Keep your phone accessible until you receive your reinstatement notice. Now, you're off work."

"Understood, sir. I plan to spend the next few days in seclusion reflecting on my damned sense of justice."

Lyon chuckled and deftly unbuckled his heavy duty belt.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be leaving now."

Lyon had just opened the conference room door and hadn't even taken a step when Danfoss, as if suddenly remembering something, called him back.

"Wait, Vance."

Lyon stopped and turned around with a hint of helplessness: "Sir, if you say there are any more reports for me to sign, I'm really going to apply for psychological trauma compensation."

"This isn't a report. A new batch of people will be assigned to my team for internships next week."

Danfoss lit a cigar and exhaled a puff of smoke in the non-smoking office area.

"The department has decided to have you mentor a new recruit and officially become a First Officer Trainer (FTO)."

Lyon's brow furrowed, and he immediately refused:

"Can I not bring them? I'm used to working alone, and I'm afraid my excellent style might scare those young people."

"No way. Your intuition and reaction time in this industry are top-notch. It's an arrangement from above to have a seasoned veteran like you mentor a newbie."

"Whether I take you or not is not my choice, but considering the good show you put on for Stone today, I can arrange someone to your liking."

Lyon was silent for a moment, his mind racing.

If it were a normal police officer, they would definitely want a genius who is the top student in the police academy, full of passion, and excels in both hand-to-hand combat and shooting.

After all, police work is dangerous, and if your partner is awesome, you can just slack off and do nothing.

But Lyon is different.

First of all, anything too powerful is definitely not an option.

What if a genius newcomer with an overwhelming sense of justice and formidable combat skills arrives, rushing to every call even faster than him? Wouldn't that take away a large portion of his participation in the system's missions? Points are his lifeline.

Moreover, these kinds of people usually have their own ideas, and if they challenge him at a crucial moment, Leon is afraid he might not be able to resist shooting that rookie in the butt first.

Secondly, it can't be too weak either.

Those cowards who tremble when they fire a gun and faint at the sight of blood are of no value except for holding others back at crucial moments and putting them in mortal danger.

If that's the case, then there's only one answer.

"Sir, I'd like something more average," Lyon said.

"The Doctrine of the Mean?"

Danfoss was taken aback; this was unusual, as everyone else was scrambling to hire elites.

"Yes, grades should be above the passing mark, but definitely not above the excellent mark. The student should be obedient and not have too much of a misplaced sense of justice or individual heroism."

"Ideally, he should be someone who has decent execution skills but lacks independent judgment. If I have him squat there guarding the trash can, he would never dare to rummage through the homeless people's tents next door to open blind boxes."

Lyon thought to himself: This kind of newcomer is the best. He can help me out and I can also squeeze him to do trivial paperwork.

At crucial moments, you rush in to collect points, and the other party just needs to shout "666" from behind and act as witness for him from the recorder's perspective.

Danfoss gave him a strange look, but in the end he still looked down and scribbled a couple of lines on his notebook.

"Fine, that's a peculiar request. I'll keep an eye out for an obedient mediocre person for you. Get lost, Vance."

"Thank you, sir. I wish you a speedy promotion to bureau chief."

Lyon waved his hand, picked up his equipment bag, gave Danfoss a salute, and walked briskly out of the conference room.

As I walked out of the police station building, the rain in Seattle started to fall lightly again.

The damp, salty smell hit him, making his skin, which had been parched from the air conditioning in the conference room, feel a little better.

He walked past the hurried police officers and people reporting crimes, heading straight for the parking lot.

This shooting not only didn't land him in jail, but it also earned him 300 points, infuriating Sergeant Stone, whom he hated, and even allowing him to quickly return to duty and continue racking up points.

For him, it was the most perfect morning he had ever had since he came into this world.

He climbed into his private car, a somewhat old, secondhand Dodge Challenger, the roar of its engine echoing through the underground garage.

All he wanted to do now was get back to his small but private apartment and see how to allocate the 300 points in the system.