Chapter 63: Jimmy the Pauper

Jimmy and Kag finished their lunch under the shade and lay down to rest immediately. The sun was too fierce, and going out on the boat right now would just be suffering; they were out for leisure, not to make a living by fishing.

The sun gradually shifted its position, and the area that was once entirely in the shade was now directly shining on Jimmy. Awakened by the heat, Jimmy had no choice but to get up, find another spot, and continue lying down to sleep. His movement ended up waking Kag, who woke up along with him.

"By the way, Jimmy, you've been at the police department for a few months now. Why haven't I seen you hanging out with the others? Is it because we're much older than you and we don't have common topics?"

"No, there is only one reason: I'm broke."

"That shouldn't be the case. You're currently a deputy sheriff with a Grade II allowance. For a bachelor like you, the living allowance is more than enough." Kag was Jimmy's direct supervisor and knew his salary tier. The so-called deputy sheriff Grade II allowance meant two chevron stripes. Remember when Jimmy got promoted earlier? He went from the initial single chevron stripe to two.

"My salary is definitely enough to live on, and there's extra. But over the past few months, I bought a gun, bought a car, and applied for a patent. That wiped out all my savings, and now I'm just waiting to go back to the station after my administrative leave to pick up my paycheck to pay next month's rent."

"What patent? What did you invent? I remember you only graduated from high school."

"Yeah, I redesigned the police light system during my time off. I was lucky enough to get the support of the University of Arkansas at Little Rock Bowen School of Law; they helped me apply for the patent, and it's going through the process now."

"Holy shxt! We actually produced an inventor in our police department. How are your police lights? Are they good? Do you have a ready-made one?"

"It's just a prototype, not decorated yet, but I made a single-bucket police light. I'll bring it to the station to show you guys later."

"That's fantastic. This is really surprising news. I'll be waiting for your new police lights. If they're good, I can talk to Chief James and see if we can procure a batch for testing. You know how it is."

"Thanks. I haven't figured out how to manufacture them yet. Making one of these by hand is relatively simple, but mass production would be troublesome. No big deal, though; I can find other factories to customize and OEM them when the time comes."

"Well, since you're so broke, you'll just have to wait. But after you get back, you'd better mingle with the others more. You're the youngest in the station, and the rest are all over thirty years old. You know, don't let yourself get isolated from the team."

***

"This is probably why you agreed to bring me bowfishing, right? I understand."

When the sun tilted westward, the two got back on the boat and continued bowfishing. This time, Jimmy picked up Kag's compound bow. At first, the forty-pound draw weight felt a bit awkward, but with a mechanical release aid and eccentric cams to reduce the tension, once the bow was drawn, it required very little effort. He could focus on aiming, squeeze the trigger of the release aid, and the arrow would fly out.

"Kag, is this kind of bow very common in the United States?"

"Yes, a lot of people like buying compound bows for hunting. Lightweight, compact, powerful—they're extremely useful hunting tools."

"It certainly seems to have many advantages. But this power is also a bit too much. For humans, this thing is very dangerous."

"I know what you mean, but you have to understand that we live in a free world where the proliferation of firearms is so severe. Compared to firearms, compound bows are no longer an issue."

Jimmy was somewhat speechless. His life experiences from his past life were almost completely meaningless in the United States. The threshold for defining danger here was obviously much lower than in his home country in the past.

"Jimmy, don't worry. We're cops. As long as we nip danger in the bud beforehand, we're safe. Noah should have taught you how to avoid danger before. As long as you can do those things, our safety is still guaranteed." Kag comforted Jimmy for a bit, then thought of something else.

"Right, since you already have a nickname, don't bring shame to it. I'm only saying this here: for us, taking down a criminal is the greatest contribution we can make to this world. Not only does it reduce the risk of others being attacked, but it also saves government resources."

"Wooooo, I really didn't know you were such a cynic, Kag."

"I'm almost fifty. I've served in the military, I've been to war, and now I have a suitable job, a family, a wife, and children. I'm no longer my old, hot-blooded self. Now I just hope to live a peaceful life and retire in a few years."

"In the military, a nickname is very important. Once a person has their own nickname, it represents the recognition of others. Whether it's Lone Wolf or Butcher, it externally signifies that the person has earned the respect of others. Of course, weaklings and rookies don't count."

"Okay, Kag, I get it. Still, in a police community, Butcher isn't a good nickname. Residents might equate me with certain types of people."

***

"Don't worry, as long as our own people approve, you can ignore the rest. Also, try not to participate in those newspaper and television interviews; those people are no good."

"Got it, I'll keep that in mind."

The two played for a little longer before calling it a day. Kag took Jimmy back to the club, returned the fishing boat, and after cleaning up, they drove back.

After returning home, Jimmy holed up for another day without receiving any calls from the police department. Due to the restrictions of his administrative leave, he couldn't leave to travel anywhere else right now, and being idle was truly agonizing.

Jimmy went to the supermarket to buy some non-perishable food and canned goods, then drove to the place where he had first arrived—that homeless camp.

Jimmy was there to look for Jerry. Ever since he started working at the restaurant, he would come to chat with Jerry and the others every once in a while, bringing some food along to give them a change of pace.

Jerry and his companions were unwilling to go out to work, and their daily food relied mostly on food banks, occasionally scavenging for other things to eat—though of course, the methods weren't always pretty. Jimmy couldn't bring them perishable food because they lacked refrigeration or other preservation methods, so non-perishable food and canned goods were the most suitable gifts.

After chatting with Jerry for a while, he left. Jerry certainly knew that Jimmy had gone to the county sheriff's department shortly after starting work at the restaurant, but he didn't want Jimmy to visit too often. It wasn't because Jimmy would be in any danger, but rather because of the homeless community's natural hostility toward police officers. Although Jerry knew Jimmy was a good kid, others still weren't very friendly when they saw him.

This wasn't something Jerry alone could fix; reversing the mindset of these people was basically impossible. For Jerry, watching a young man pull himself out of this hell brought immense joy to his heart.

Jimmy felt helpless too. He didn't know what had happened to Jerry; the man simply refused to find a stable job and only wanted to live as a vagrant with no fixed abode.