Chapter 49: Another Newcomer

A week later, Jimmy returned to the county sheriff's department. As soon as he stepped through the front entrance, Chief James summoned him into his office.

"Jimmy, your performance during this period has been exceptional."

"Thanks for the compliment, Chief," Jimmy replied with a cheeky grin.

"Well, I wasn't complimenting you. Jimmy, you need to keep one thing in mind: we are police officers, not an army, and not a gang. We handle cases and protect the city; we are not in the business of legalized killing. In just four months, you've already racked up three fatal incidents. You wouldn't want to be called the Butcher Cop, would you? Tone it down, and make sure you use less lethal force next time."

"But Chief, every time I fired my weapon, I had a valid reason. The situations were genuinely dangerous; I didn't kill them intentionally. The police academy textbooks even instruct us to avoid shooting suspects in the limbs to prevent fatal accidents."

"It seems Noah educated you well, and you remember those lessons vividly. I'm not trying to put you in harm's way, I'm just asking you to consider our department a bit more. A cop labeled a butcher will attract an investigation by the county commission, and I wouldn't rule out a forced suspension. You know I'm trying to protect you, not shirk responsibility."

"Alright, I understand. I'll make sure of it."

Jimmy felt helpless. Ever since his golden cheat system arrived, his mindset had shifted dramatically. Right now, he was somewhat letting loose; in any situation where he had already fired or was bound to fire, completely wiping out the opponent was simply the best way to protect himself.

Leaving the chief's office, Jimmy collected his gear and headed out on patrol once again.

His promotion had not brought him much convenience; his daily routine remained patrolling. Those detectives in TV shows and movies who wore civilian clothes and searched everywhere for clues to solve cases seemed destined to have nothing to do with him.

Within the county sheriff system, only large counties maintained such positions. The departments with the most detectives were municipal police systems and federal law enforcement agencies like the FBI.

Unless he planned to switch careers or relocate, even if he were promoted to lieutenant, he would still be stuck patrolling the streets.

While Jimmy was on patrol, his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, it was Frank Moses. Ever since their last call, he had saved the phone number.

"Hey, Frank. What's up?"

"Hey, Jimmy, nothing much. I just got back from out of town. You know I recently moved here, so I'm planning to host a barbecue. Would you like to come?"

"Sure, when is it?"

"This Saturday afternoon, right in my backyard."

"Alright, no problem."

"See you then, then. Goodbye, Jimmy."

"Goodbye, Frank."

Jimmy hung up the phone and pondered why Frank would call him. Although the stated reason was that he was new to the area, for someone who had just moved in, a barbecue like this would naturally be meant for neighbors and local residents.

By all accounts, Jimmy didn't seem like the kind of person Frank should be focusing on. Jimmy recalled their previous two encounters and wondered if there were any details he had missed.

After wasting quite a few brain cells without reaching any conclusions, Jimmy decided to drop it for now and handle whatever came his way when the time arrived.

Jimmy continued his boring patrol on the road. Since the chief had strong opinions about him, he might as well change his approach and focus on stirring up trouble on the highway.

Ahead of him, a pickup truck was hauling cargo. The stacked boxes were arranged very neatly and squarely, but they didn't look tightly secured, and a piece of rope was fluttering in the wind. Jimmy immediately switched on his emergency lights and siren, signaling the pickup to pull over. The truck driver signaled and slowly parked on the shoulder.

Jimmy stepped out of his cruiser and walked over. The truck driver was an elderly white man with thinning hair, wearing a brownish-yellow uniform. Jimmy actually recognized it—it was the ranger uniform of Pinnacle Mountain State Park, located near Little Rock, and the patch on his sleeve clearly bore the words "Pinnacle Mountain."

"Hi, good morning, sir. I didn't pull you over for a traffic violation—you drive quite well. It's mainly because the safety rope on top of your cargo bed has come loose. For safety reasons, please step down and secure it."

"Oh, thank you." The old man got out and took a look. One of the ropes had indeed loosened, with the end dangling over the side.

"Thanks, Officer. Good thing you pointed it out, or an accident could have been disastrous."

"What's loaded in the truck? Do you mind if I take a look?"

"No, no, no. Please go ahead. Inside are faucets, parts for the forest service." The old man replied as he tied down the rope.

Jimmy glanced at the cargo boxes, and finding nothing else hidden in the gaps, he wrapped it up.

"Get everything secured before you hit the road. Drive carefully, goodbye."

With that, Jimmy got back into his patrol car and resumed patrolling the road.

This old man looked familiar, though his name escaped him. He was definitely from a movie he had watched in the past. If he remembered correctly, the man was connected to Frank Moses—yet another person worthy of attention.

Jimmy figured that the more he ran into these movie characters, the easier it would be to recall their original plots and figure out which films they belonged to. Therefore, such people required vigilance. By now, there were already three familiar faces: Frank Moses, the guy who looked strikingly like Thor, and this old man. The only one whose identity he actually knew was the old man—a park ranger. He would find an opportunity to look into his background later.

Humbly executing the chief's will, Jimmy dutifully acted as a patrol officer, handling traffic, issuing tickets, and strictly avoiding unnecessary complications. Before he knew it, Saturday arrived.

Jimmy took a day off, and at noon that day, he drove to Summerfield. Arriving at Frank's house, he presented his gift—a bottle of Silver Creek red wine. Jimmy certainly knew nothing about such gifts; this was Amy's suggestion, and Amy had even gone out and bought the wine for him.

"Hey, Jimmy."

"Hey, Frank."

Jimmy handed over the gift. Frank raised an eyebrow and said, "Good choice, Jimmy. Nice taste."

"Hahaha, I don't know anything about wine. I had a colleague help me pick it out. I hope you like it."

"Of course, Silver Creek's red wine is of very high quality, and it's been extremely popular in recent years."

Frank ushered Jimmy inside, placed the bottle on the wine rack, and pulled out two beers.

"You're off duty today, let's have a beer."

Jimmy accepted it; a single bottle of beer wouldn't be an issue.

"Who all did you invite today?"

"Some neighbors and old friends from around the area. Come on, let's head to the backyard."

This was Jimmy's first time in Frank's backyard. He had a swimming pool back there that looked to be under twenty square meters, with a grill and a patio umbrella already set up beside it.

Frank and Jimmy sat beneath the umbrella, chatting casually and passing the time.