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

Lyon's face instantly darkened, and he looked at Danvers with a twitching smile:

"Has Sterling gone mad?"

"I'm going there to be the ACU team leader, not to run for Miss America."

"What kind of department is ACU? It's the Anti-Crime Special Task Force. We have to play dirty tricks on gang members, conduct undercover investigations, and carry out infiltration."

"Is she posting my face in high definition and without any blurring on Toutiao because she's afraid that Blood Gang assassin won't be able to find me?"

As the leader of the special operations team, maintaining an air of mystery is the first essential element for survival.

Now all of Seattle knows what the ACU boss looks like. How can he carry out sting operations now?

Wherever he goes, drug dealers scatter like startled birds.

Logically, frontline personnel handling classified information should at least have their faces blurred or be given a pseudonym in news reports.

Now, the only thing missing is printing his home address and social security number in the newspaper.

Sergeant Danfoss shrugged helplessly at Leon's murderous expression, the chair beneath him creaking in protest.

"Don't just focus on criticizing Sterling; this time it's probably not just her idea."

Danfoss snorted and reached for his phone, his voice full of helplessness:

"The North District was in complete chaos last night; it's said that several villas in the wealthy area were almost set on fire. The mayor desperately needs a fig leaf, or rather, a superhero to divert public attention."

"So you're that unlucky... oh no, lucky Batman, or Superman? Whatever."

"If you are really retaliated against, they can still give you a grand state funeral and reap another wave of sympathy."

At this point, Danfoss paused, seemingly finding the words too discouraging, and shifted to a slightly more relaxed posture, softening his tone somewhat:

"However, don't be too anxious."

"To be honest, given the big heist you pulled last night, if those gangs really wanted to get you, even without it being reported in the news, they could buy your whole family's address from the dark web for $500, and they could even find out how many times you wet the bed as a child."

After listening to these words, Lyon remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

Although it sounds like fallacy, upon closer examination, it is indeed the current situation in America.

Therefore, the preparation for the safe house must be put on the agenda as soon as possible.

"Alright."

He sighed and leaned back.

A brief silence fell over the ward.

Danfoss didn't respond immediately. He lowered his head and shifted uncomfortably, as if he had something to say but felt it was pretentious.

After a long pause, the old sergeant, who always presented himself as a tough guy, suddenly rubbed his face, his voice becoming somewhat unnaturally gentle:

"Listen, Lyon."

"Although you're no longer one of my soldiers and have gone to a god-like place like ACU to become a mountain king, you're still temporarily eating from the pot of the West District Police Station."

"If you ever encounter any trouble in the future, or if there's a shortage of manpower... as long as it's within your job responsibilities and doesn't make my work schedule look too bad..."

"You can call me directly."

Lyon raised an eyebrow in surprise.

This old man is notoriously protective of his own and averse to trouble. Making his subordinates do the work of other groups is worse than killing him.

Danfoss seemed to have read Lyon's mind, coughed somewhat awkwardly, and looked out the window:

"Don't get me wrong. It's mainly because of that old guy Bob... he's pretty popular in the department."

"He's such a pushover. Who hasn't gotten a donut from him? Who hasn't borrowed his spare handcuffs?"

"You risked your life to save him that night, and you went head-to-head with that FBI pretty boy in the rain this time... In the eyes of my brothers, that's what it is."

Danfoss gave a thumbs up.

"Cops are human too, Leon. Who wouldn't want a brother who would truly take a bullet for them?"

"Especially Ward."

Danfoss's lips twitched as if he had remembered something funny:

"That kid used to be a mute who only knew how to work; you couldn't get a word out of him even if you hit him three times."

"But ever since that rainy night when I rode in a car with you, you've completely changed."

"Last night they even asked me when you were going to be discharged from the hospital, and whether I wanted them to bring you some fruit baskets or something."

"While I have no idea what kind of damn friendship you two formed over that Ford Explorer, he seems to be a die-hard fan of yours now."

Lyon recalled the way Ward had handed him a cigarette while vomiting that day, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"I guess I took him to experience the thrill of speed and passion."

"In short, you now have a high level of prestige in the patrol team of the West Precinct."

"Why……"

Looking at Leon's smiling face, Danfoss suddenly let out a long sigh, and his whole body visibly collapsed.

"Damn it, the more I think about it, the angrier I get."

He counted on his fingers, his face filled with utter despair:

"You left, and became a great hero."

"You even took the newcomer Mia with you."

"That old bastard Bob is lying upstairs pretending to be dead. He probably won't be back for at least six months."

"Ward's got wild ambitions now, he's keeping an eye on your every move."

How many people do I have left to use?

"If this keeps up, I'll be all alone, and I'll have to go out on the streets myself handing out parking tickets!"

"Damn it, these young people these days are all so hard to manage."

He glared at Leon resentfully, stood up, grabbed his hat, and pulled it over his head.

"Take good care of yourself and recover well, great hero. The outside world is bustling with activity right now. You'll have plenty to do once you get out there."

As Danfoss's footsteps faded at the end of the corridor, the ward finally became quiet.

Lyon reached for his phone from the bedside table.

The screen lit up, and wow, a whole bunch of unread message notifications.

Several of these messages came from a number that Lyon had labeled "AAA Body Donation - Alex".

23:45 last night

"Dude? What's going on? I just loaded the scraps of meat from that tent into the truck, and now there's movement again? Didn't anyone tell me there's a team fight tonight?"

At 03:40

"It's insane, absolutely insane. I got the call and just went in to check—it's full of corpses! The floor is covered in them!"

"Normally, I shouldn't be being put in charge this quickly in this kind of situation. I don't know what went wrong, but I just received the notification!"

"That guy Carlos told me to hurry up and clean the floor, but my truck is already full. How many more trips do I have to make?"

06:40 AM

"This is my last trip; I'm practically a porter now."

"The cold storage facilities in the suburbs are overflowing, bro. Do you know what it feels like to shove corpses onto shelves like building blocks?"

"It's a bit disrespectful to the deceased, but I really have no choice; I don't have time to deal with it today."

07:15 am

"I saw the news. Your face is all over the front page. You're something else, you're still alive? If you're still alive, let me know. If you are, I'll save you a big freezer."

Lyon looked at the words, which were filled with deep resentment, moved his fingers, and typed two words:

"He's not dead."