Jimmy and Cage finished their lunch in the shade of a tree and lay down to rest directly. The sun was too fierce, and heading to the boat now would be torturous. They were out for relaxation, not fishing for a living.

As the sun gradually shifted, what was once a shady spot now shone directly on Jimmy. Woken by the heat, he had no choice but to get up and find another place to lie down and continue sleeping, which in turn woke up Cage as well.

"Right, Jimmy, you've been at the station for a few months now. Why don't I see you hanging out with the others? Is it because we're so much older than you that there's no common language?"

"No, there's just one reason, poverty."

"That shouldn't be the case. You're now getting a second-tier Deputy Sheriff stipend, which should be more than enough for a bachelor like you," Cage, Jimmy's direct supervisor, was aware of his salary scale. The so-called second-tier Deputy Sheriff stipend meant two chevrons, Jimmy had been promoted recently, remember? He moved up from one chevron to two.

"The salary is definitely enough for living, and then some. But these past few months, I bought a gun, a car, and even applied for a patent, so I've spent it all. Now I'm just waiting for administrative leave to end and to get back to the station to collect my paycheck to pay next month's rent."

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

"Yeah, I used my free time to redesign the lightbar system. With a stroke of luck, I got support from the Bowen School of Law at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, who helped me apply for the patent. It's currently in process."

"Holy shit! Our station actually has an inventor. How's your lightbar? Is it any good? Do you have a finished product?"

"It's just a prototype, not yet outfitted for actual use, but I did make a single barrel lightbar. I'll bring it to the station to show everyone later."

"That's really great news, quite unexpected. I look forward to your new lightbar, and if it's good, I can talk to Chief James about it, see if we can purchase a batch for testing. You know what I mean."

"Thanks. I haven't figured out how to produce it yet. Making one by hand is easy enough, but mass production will be troublesome. No big problem, though; I'll just find some other factory to do custom manufacturing when the time comes."

"Well, since you're so broke, let's wait on it. But once you're back, you really should mingle more with everyone else. You're the youngest in the station, the next youngest is over 30. You know, don't let yourself be isolated from the team."

"That's the reason you agreed to take me bowfishing, right? I understand."

As the sun angled west, the two climbed back onto the boat and continued with bowfishing. This time, Jimmy picked up Cage's Compound Bow. At first, he wasn't used to the 40-pound draw weight, but the release aid and cams made it easier. Once the bow was drawn, he could aim comfortably, trigger the release, and the arrow would shoot off.

"Cage, are these kind of bows common in the United States?"

"Yeah, many people like to buy Compound Bows for hunting. They're light, compact, and powerful. A very handy hunting tool indeed."

"It sure seems to have a lot of advantages, but the power's a bit too much. It's extremely dangerous for people."

"I get what you mean, but you have to understand, we live in a world where freedom is paramount, and with the prevalence of guns being a serious issue, a Compound Bow is hardly cause for concern anymore."

Jimmy was somewhat speechless. His past life experiences had almost no relevance in the United States; the definition of danger here was significantly lower than in his home country.

"Jimmy, don't worry. We're police officers. As long as we eliminate dangers in their infancy, we're safe. Noah must have taught you how to avoid risks. As long as we follow those measures, our safety is secured," Cage said reassuringly, then his thoughts turned to something else.

"Right, speaking of which, now that you have a nickname, don't bring shame to it. I'm only saying this here: in our line of work, to kill a criminal is to make the greatest contribution to this world. It not only reduces the risk of attacks on others but also saves government resources."

"Wooooo, I really didn't know you were so cynical, Cage."

"I'm nearly 50, I've been in the military, fought in wars, and now I have a suitable job, a family, a wife, kids. I'm not the hot-blooded me of the past. Now I just hope to live peacefully and wait for retirement in a few years."

"In the military, a nickname is quite important. When someone has their own nickname, it represents respect from others, whether it's 'Lone Wolf' or 'Butcher.' Of course, names like 'Soft Egg' or 'Rookie' don't count."

"OK, Cage, I get it. But in the police force, 'Butcher' isn't exactly a commendable nickname; residents might equate me with certain individuals."

"Don't worry, as long as our own people recognize you, we can ignore the rest. Also, try to avoid interviews with the newspapers and television; they're not exactly the good guys."

"Got it, I'll remember that."

After playing around for a while, they packed up. Cage took Jimmy back to the club, returned the fishing boat, cleaned up, and then drove back.

After returning home, Jimmy stewed at home for a day, still without any calls from the station. Due to the restrictions of administrative leave, he couldn't go anywhere else, and idleness was unbearable.

Jimmy went to the supermarket and bought some non-perishable foods and canned goods, then drove back to the first place he arrived at, the homeless camp.

Jimmy was there to find Jerry. Since he started working at the restaurant, every now and then, he would come to chat with Jerry and bring some food for a change of taste.

Jerry and the others didn't want to go out and work, relying mostly on food banks for their meals, and occasionally scavenging other stuff, though the means were less savory. Jimmy couldn't bring them perishable food as they lacked refrigeration means, so non-perishables and cans were the most suitable gifts.

Jimmy chatted with Jerry for a while before leaving. Jerry of course knew about Jimmy's job transfer from the restaurant to the county police, but he didn't want Jimmy coming around often. It wasn't that Jimmy was in any danger, but the homeless naturally distrusted the police. Even though Jerry knew Jimmy was a good kid, the others weren't quite as friendly.

This wasn't something Jerry could change alone; it was practically impossible to shift the mindset of those people. Jerry felt elated to see a young man escape this "Hell" that he helped out of.

Jimmy felt helpless, not understanding why Jerry simply refused to find a stable job and preferred to live as a homeless drifter.