It was evident that although Jimmy and the Ministry of Internal Affairs seldom interacted, they held no favorable impression toward ADA Kaya, such a direct confrontation in words was quite uncommon.

Kaya likely wasn't unfamiliar with this kind of talk, she immediately stopped questioning, knowing well that the prosecutors and police were two separate systems and she did not need to give any face to Sergeant Palmer.

Jimmy watched the unfolding scene with some surprise, forming a new conjecture. If he was not mistaken, Ms. Kaya was here to express her stance, yet she had no intention of causing any trouble.

It was rumored that Ms. Kaya might be nominated as a prosecutor, and if his guess was right, her objective was to assert her toughness and unwillingness to compromise on various occasions while essentially doing no real work, merely leaving behind a reputation.

Well, this was no longer a case of bait-and-switch; it was like hanging a lamb's head and then selling air straight up.

Although it seemed like the police were being targeted from all sides, there was no real obstruction from below, business went on as usual, yet it gave the impression of being tough and uncompromising to those above.

Based on the principle of the separation of powers, the police belong to the executive branch, the prosecutors to the judiciary, and the parliament to the legislative. If the relationship between prosecutors and police was overly cordial, it could also lead to criticism.

Since Kaya was silenced, Jimmy continued to narrate his experience with the shootout. The scene of the exchange of fire was at the roadside. The road was a minor one in the suburbs, fortunately, there were no other vehicles passing by at the time, preventing additional harm.

The scene, with only a police car for cover, was such that besides Jimmy, nobody had experience. They couldn't accurately judge the danger of such close-range gunfire, but from Jimmy's description, one could almost picture his situation at that time.

For Jimmy in that situation, staying alive was the most important thing, as for the suspect dying instead of being captured, this really couldn't be blamed on Jimmy, it was completely forced by circumstances.

With that, the description of the battle scene was complete, and Sergeant Palmer picked up Jimmy's report.

Palmer, "Jimmy, I will submit this report to SWAT for verification first, and then to the prosecutor's office. I have no more questions."

Following his previous administrative leaves, Jimmy had already roughly understood that unless particularly troubling issues emerged, the Ministry of Internal Affairs usually wouldn't make a big fuss over police shootings, it was generally just procedural. This time was likely no exception.

After signing the inquiry record, Jimmy went on leave again, but now he was no longer the broke guy who could only watch TV at home. Although he wasn't very rich now, the tens of thousands of US Dollars from patent licensing was enough for him to comfortably purchase some items to pass the time, such as--a computer and a gaming console.

Jimmy went to the specialty store full of hope, only to be dumbfounded by the thick, small screen filled with mosaics in front of him; something was off about this computer, was this some antiquated relic from the last century? And that chassis, what the hell were those optical and floppy drives on it? Okay, the optical drives were normal but what about those 3.5 floppy drives?

In 20 years, the development of computers had gone through several eras already, CRT monitors had been phased out early by LCDs and LEDs, the original horizontal chassis had transformed into vertical and various custom cases, and the formerly bulky, black and bland had evolved into the brightly colored light pollution of later designs.

For Jimmy, accustomed to later models of computers, these so-called latest models were hardly impressive.

Jimmy no longer felt the urge to buy, although a computer was necessary, this so-called latest, expensive model was not.

Jimmy turned around and left, this time he didn't search around anymore, but went straight to an IBM distributor and bought a ThinkPad, the newest I series. Although it was still thick and heavy, at least it was better than a desktop computer.

With the computer, gaming consoles were put aside for the time being; Jimmy used the computer to search around, since this was a completely different world, there must be lots of fun and interesting new things to see.

Jimmy popped by the supermarket as well, to stock up on his fridge. He had also adopted the local habit of buying a week's worth of groceries in one go, tossing everything into the fridge.

As for drinks, Jimmy bought a case of beer and a case of cola. By now, Jimmy had gotten used to watching TV while drinking beer. Although he hadn't gotten particularly fat, his weight had increased from 75 kilograms, when he first started as a police officer, to 85 kilograms now. It's just that he was originally tall and slim, so now he looked a bit more robust, but not fat.

When police officers went out on patrol, their equipment weighed about 15 pounds, about 7 kilograms, you can imagine what it feels like to have such a load hanging around your waist. It was fine when driving, but running after suspects really required considerable physical strength.

American police officers always seemed unable to run during chases, energized only at the beginning but soon clearly out of steam.

Moreover, most of the local police officers were overweight, unattractively so, and some had to get their uniforms updated yearly because they had become too fat, the original size no longer sufficient to contain their bellies.

Jimmy was now working hard not to let himself end up like that, his colleague Cage being a negative example. Cage had been in the military before and certainly had been in good shape. Now, over 180 centimeters tall, about the same as Jimmy, he must weigh at least 120 kilograms. "Fleshy-faced" was not enough to describe him, and that exaggerated belly was something one couldn't bear to look straight at.

At night when he was at home, Jimmy still occasionally exercised, but only basic stretching, push-ups, sit-ups, and the like, making sure not to cause too much noise that could disturb his neighbors. He wasn't living in a detached house; the apartment had all sorts of people, and you never knew who might pull out a gun over a noise complaint.

Jimmy got everything ready for his vacation and planned to stay home for a week or two. Although it might make him feel a bit moldy, he needed to be able to return to the police station at any time during his administrative leave if an investigation called for it; basically, he couldn't go anywhere but around his house.

The next evening, Jimmy received a call from a stranger.

"Jimmy, this is Tom, you know, that Tom. Come downstairs."

Jimmy, holding his phone, was stunned. Tom had suddenly called, asking him to come downstairs, and then hung up before he could get a word in. What did he need from him? Considering recent events, there didn't seem to be any case that required his involvement.

Jimmy grabbed a T-shirt and jeans, took his phone and keys, and went downstairs immediately.

There was a car downstairs with its headlights off, but the sound of the engine was still running. The window rolled down, revealing Tom—although they had met only twice, he was memorable. In just a few months, it seemed Tom's hairline had receded.

Tom waved his hand, and as Jimmy walked over and opened the car door to get in, the car started. Jimmy didn't say anything, just watched to see what Tom had in mind.