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Police in Los Angeles

In a stitched-together world of episodic American TV dramas, we are invited to step into the protagonist's shoes and rescue characters who were unceremoniously written off. The aim is to rationally amend the absurd plot twists concocted by capricious screenwriters. This includes, but is not limited to, shows such as The Rookie, Castle, and Hunter. Future additions may encompass Person of Interest, Knight Rider, Bones, and even various police-themed movies. Excluding the protagonist's "System", there are no supernatural elements. All cases and narratives serve the novel's storyline, with some creative modifications. Readers are advised not to take these changes too seriously.

Mutter · TV
Not enough ratings
215 Chs

Chapter 127: How to Instantly Anger a Korean

Natasha eventually decided to trust the handsome man who claimed to be a police officer. She signaled her sister to put away the gun and stand behind Jack, but they stayed close to the pickup, with Talia clutching her phone tightly.

"If I were you, I'd leave now. Believe me, it's for your own good," Jack said as he stepped forward, blocking the three men's path. He wasn't lying; his advice was sincere.

"Get lost! Don't cause yourself trouble! Ahjussi!" The leader, a squinty-eyed Korean, seemed provoked by Jack's display of muscle earlier. He stripped off his T-shirt, revealing a dragon tattoo on his shoulder.

To be fair, in America, it can be challenging to differentiate between East Asians—be they Chinese, Korean, Japanese, or South Asian—based on looks alone. Even Chinese people abroad might struggle to tell them apart after being surrounded by various ethnic groups like Caucasians, Latinos, and African Americans. It's not always easy to identify someone as Korean just because they have squinty eyes.

Moreover, many Asian cultures share similar characteristics, even down to the Chinese characters in tattoos, as not all Chinese characters have both simplified and traditional forms.

However, once they start speaking, it becomes much easier to distinguish them. The frequent use of "oppa" and "ahjussi" is uniquely Korean. Jack had quickly recognized the trio's backgrounds earlier: two Koreans and an Indian.

"Koreatown gangsters?" Jack was taken aback for a moment. Koreatown was just outside the jurisdiction of the Wilshire Police Department, where he worked. Although he didn't deal with them often, he knew exactly what these thugs were up to.

It seemed Natasha and Talia had been targeted for a while. It wasn't hard to guess their usual tactics—drugging women and forcing them into prostitution was a standard practice for the Koreatown gang.

How to instantly anger a Korean? Simply bring your index finger and thumb close together without touching, like Jack was doing now.

"Ahjussi!" The tattooed Korean yelled, charging at Jack with his legs bent awkwardly and swinging his baseball bat wildly.

With a dull thud, the man flew backward faster than he had charged, leaving the bat in Jack's hand. Jack calmly retracted his right leg as if shaking off some dirt, then made a taunting gesture towards the other Korean.

This second Korean, dressed in a floral shirt and holding a crowbar, did a spinning kick on the spot, looking smug as if he had just won an Olympic gold medal.

Jack discarded the baseball bat and gestured with open hands for the floral shirt guy to come at him.

The man in the floral shirt began to prance around, his legs switching positions like they were possessed. After a while, he seemed to muster up the courage and let out a bizarre yell, charging forward with the crowbar raised.

Jack was showing off today, using only his legs without moving his hands. Having grown up with a disdain for South Korea, he relished the chance to show off his martial arts skills, especially against someone who prided themselves on taekwondo.

Having improved his physique, Jack had picked up a few flashy moves from action movies. Initially, he intended them for playful sparring with Hannah, but now they served to entertain him while dealing with this Korean.

As the floral shirt guy rushed forward, Jack leaped into the air. He performed a spinning sidekick, followed by a 360-degree turn. His right foot knocked the crowbar out of the man's hand, and his left foot immediately landed a blow to the man's chest.

Jack landed gracefully on one hand, while the floral shirt guy and the squinty-eyed Korean lay in a heap. Only the Indian guy remained, frozen in place.

Cheers and whistles erupted from the surrounding onlookers, who had formed a circle around the scene. Clearly, enjoying the spectacle wasn't limited to any particular culture. The two attractive Russian sisters had already drawn attention, and with Jack's Firebird and the red GMC-SIERRA, they had become a focal point for curiosity.

Natasha seemed calm, a smile playing on her lips. She had realized that the trio was no match for Jack and didn't need to worry anymore.

Talia, on the other hand, was jumping up and down in excitement, her face flushed with joy as she cheered for Jack.

"Hey, why don't you all come at me together?"

With the sun almost set and the temperature dropping, Jack worried that his steaks would get cold and lose their flavor. He also planned to sauté some lettuce in the leftover steak juices to make the meal healthier.

The Indian guy helped the two Koreans to their feet. They glared at Jack with murderous intent, slowly closing in on him and encircling him.

Having lost interest in showing off, Jack no longer held back. Seeing that they were hesitant to make the first move, he decided to take the initiative. The squinty-eyed Korean with the dragon tattoo was the first to fall.

As Jack lunged forward, the squinty-eyed Korean lifted his right leg for a roundhouse kick. But before the kick could fully extend, Jack's iron grip caught his ankle. The man barely had time to react before he was thrown to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Jack moved seamlessly, sidestepping the floral shirt guy's rush and landing a heavy punch to his stomach.

The impact made the floral shirt guy's eyes bulge comically, veins popping out from his neck and stretching to his cheeks. He collapsed to the ground, unable to utter a sound beyond a few guttural gasps.

Seeing his companions' defeat, the Indian guy turned to flee without a word. Jack caught up in two strides and grabbed for the man's neck, but his hand slipped.

How many days has it been since this guy washed, or did he grease himself up with some Indian oil? Jack thought with disgust as he tripped the man, finding his fingers slick and greasy.

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The park rangers who arrived to clean up the mess took the trio away after verifying Jack's identity and taking a brief statement.

Jack still believed he had saved them from a worse fate.

The crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed. Talia, still buzzing with excitement, wouldn't stop asking Jack questions until Natasha dragged her away. The sisters climbed into the back of their pickup truck and tossed down a pile of firewood.

Jack quickly joined in to help. Soon, a large campfire was crackling between their tents.

The three of them sat around the fire, and Natasha handed Jack an ornate flask.

Instead of opening it immediately, Jack admired the craftsmanship. The flat, silver flask was intricately embossed with floral patterns and featured two ballet-dancing girls in the center.

"Is this you and your sister?" he asked with a smile.

Talia nodded. "It was a birthday gift from our father."

"So, you have one too?"

Jack unscrewed the cap and took a sip. No doubt about it—it was vodka. Classic Russian.

Talia ran back to the truck and returned with an identical flask, handing it to Jack.

Uh, is this some tradition I don't know about? Jack wondered. He took the flask and drank from it as well, tasting the same vodka.

As the night deepened, the two Russian sisters began to sing by the campfire. Their voices were beautiful, and the lyrics were familiar. Jack recognized the songs from his past life and even knew their Chinese versions.

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