A week later, Jimmy returned to the county police station. As soon as he entered the main gate, Chief James called him into his office.

"Jimmy, your work has been very impressive these days."

"Thank you for the praise, Chief," Jimmy replied with a playful grin.

"Uh, I'm not praising you. Jimmy, you need to remember that we're police officers, not soldiers, not gangsters. We handle cases and protect the city, not to kill people legally.

In just four short months, you already have three incidents. You don't want to be nicknamed 'Butcher Cop', do you? Hold back, and make sure to exercise more restraint next time."

"But, Chief, every time I've fired my gun there has been a legitimate reason. The situation was truly dangerous; it was not my intention to kill them. The police academy textbooks also require that we try to avoid shooting at a suspect's limbs to prevent danger."

"It seems Noah has taught you well; you remember these lessons clearly. I'm not looking to put you in harm's way, just asking you to think more about our police station. A cop called 'Butcher' will be investigated by the county government committee, and they might even force you to take a leave of absence. You know I'm trying to protect you, not shift the blame."

"OK, I got it. I'll do that."

Jimmy felt helpless; ever since Golden Finger had been credited to his account, his mentality had changed too much. Now he was slightly reckless, believing that eliminating the opposition was the best way to protect himself in situations where he had already fired or was certain to fire his gun.

Leaving the Chief's office, Jimmy collected his equipment and set off on patrol again.

His promotion hadn't really brought much convenience to Jimmy; his daily duties remained the same—patrolling, which made the detectives in TV shows and films, who dressed in plain clothes and roamed around looking for clues, seem very distant from him.

In the county police system, only larger counties have such detective positions. The two systems with the most detectives are the city police system and the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI).

Unless he planned to change careers or relocate, even if he were promoted to sergeant, he would still be patrolling the streets.

While on patrol, Jimmy's phone rang. After checking the caller ID, he saw it was Frank Moses. He had saved the number after their last conversation.

"Hey, Frank. What's up?"

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

"Sure, when is it?"

"This Saturday afternoon, in my backyard."

"OK, no problem."

"I'll see you then. Goodbye, Jimmy."

"Goodbye, Frank."

After hanging up, Jimmy pondered why Frank would invite him. Although the reason given was that he had just moved to the area, such a barbecue event would typically involve neighbors and people from the block.

From all perspectives, it didn't seem like Jimmy should be on Frank's radar. Jimmy thought back to the two times he had interacted with Frank, wondering if there were any details he might have missed.

After wracking his brain without coming to any conclusion, he decided to let it go and would deal with it as it came.

Jimmy continued his monotonous patrol. Given that the Chief had serious reservations about him, he decided to adjust his approach and focus on highway activity.

A pickup truck ahead was hauling cargo, with boxes stacked neatly but seemingly not very securely tied down, as one of the ropes fluttered in the wind. Jimmy promptly turned on his siren and lights, signaling for the pickup to pull over. The truck driver activated the turn signal and slowly pulled over to the side of the road.

Jimmy got out of the car and walked over. The truck driver was an elderly white man with thinning hair, dressed in a brownish-yellow uniform that Jimmy recognized; it was the uniform worn by rangers at Pinnacle Mountain State Park nearby Little Rock. There was also a Pinnacle Mountain patch on his arm.

"Hi, good morning, sir. I stopped you not because you committed any violation; you're driving just fine. The primary reason is that the securing rope on top of the truck bed has come loose. For safety reasons, could you please get down and secure it?"

"Oh, thank you." The old man got out of the truck to take a look and noticed that one of the ropes had indeed come loose, hanging by the side.

"Thank you, officer, I'm glad you mentioned it. It would have been bad if something had happened."

"What are you hauling? Do you mind if I take a look?"

"NO, NO, NO. Please, be my guest. They are faucets, supplies for the park," the old man replied while tying the ropes.

Jimmy checked the cargo box and didn't find anything else in the gaps, so he concluded his inspection.

"Make sure it's secure before you hit the road, drive safely, goodbye."

Having said that, Jimmy got back into the police car and continued patrolling the road.

The old man looked familiar, but Jimmy had forgotten his name. He was certain he was from a movie he had seen before. If he remembered correctly, this man was related to Frank Moses, another person of interest.

Jimmy felt that with enough sightings, he would naturally recall the content of those movies and be able to identify them, so it was important to keep an eye on these types of individuals. So far, he had come across three familiar faces: Frank Moses, a guy who looked remarkably like Thor, and this old man, whose identity he knew—park ranger. He planned to find out more about him when he had the chance.

Jimmy conscientiously carried out the Chief's orders, content with his job as a patrol officer, managing traffic, issuing tickets, and decidedly staying out of trouble. In the blink of an eye, Saturday arrived.

Jimmy had the day off and drove to Somerfield that afternoon to Frank's house, where he presented his gift—a bottle of Silver Creek Red Wine. Jimmy didn't really know much about wine; it was Amy's suggestion, and she even bought the bottle on Jimmy's behalf.

"Hi, Jimmy."

"Hi, Frank."

Jimmy offered the gift, and Frank raised an eyebrow, saying, "Not a bad choice, Jimmy. Good taste."

"Hahaha, I don't know much about wine; I had a coworker pick it out. I hope you like it."

"Of course, Silver Creek Winery's red wine is of very good quality and has been quite popular in recent years."

Frank welcomed Jimmy inside, placed the wine on the rack, and then took out two bottles of beer.

"You're off work today, have a bottle."

Jimmy took it; one bottle of beer was no problem.

"Who did you invite today?"

"Some neighbors and old friends who live around here. Come on, let's go to the backyard."

It was Jimmy's first time in Frank's backyard. He had what looked to be a pool less than 20 square meters, and a grill and sunshade were already set up next to it.

Frank and Jimmy sat under the sunshade, casually chatting and passing the time.