Chapter 15: Spare Gun

Of course, times had changed, and this six-shot revolver, even with a speed loader, took several seconds to reload and had become obsolete. However, the blued Colt Python with a six-inch barrel in front of him was simply too attractive. Jack carefully held it, feeling its hefty weight, almost double that of his Glock 22.

As he caressed the ivory grips, Jack couldn't help but fall in love with the weapon. Men often have an affinity for powerful objects, and Jack was no different. He had fond memories of the detective from "City Hunter" always showing off with one of these.

"Take it and use it. My old backup gun had a three-inch barrel and will go with me to the grave. This one was custom-made for me by Colt when I retired, thanks to my colleagues chipping in. I only fired five rounds through it, and it's excellent."

Hunter's eyes were firm, his cheeks flushed. Seeing the determination and trembling of his only functional left hand gripping the box, Jack swallowed his refusal and made a decision.

"Uncle Hunter, have you heard of Chinese medicine?"

Jack knew nothing about Chinese medicine, save for making herbal broths for Zoe and adding goji berries to his tea as he got older. However, spouting some theories about yin-yang and balance to Americans would be enough to mask the miraculous effects of his healing spell.

Over the next half hour, Jack used his silver tongue to persuade the elderly couple to try his massage technique. To bolster his argument, he fabricated a story about a great-grandfather who had served as a royal physician in ancient China.

The prospect of walking again was too tempting, and Hunter agreed to give it a try. Jack asked Hannah to fetch a bottle of medicinal oil from Chinatown from his attic. Jack couldn't help but laugh at himself. The last time he used this oil was for foreplay with Zoe; now, he was using it to massage a septuagenarian. Life was indeed strange.

With his mastery-level healing skill, Jack's movements were more controlled than ever. After two hours of strenuous effort and releasing his power discreetly, he managed to restore some sensation to Hunter's paralyzed right side by healing his brain damage and atrophied muscles.

"It's incredible! How did you do this? It's unimaginable." Hunter's voice trembled with disbelief as he lifted his once-numb right hand, attempting to bend his fingers.

"Uncle Hunter, Aunt Dee Dee, I must clarify something. I don't have a medical license, so I won't acknowledge anything I did here today. Please keep this to yourselves, especially from your family doctor. If Uncle Hunter recovers from his stroke, it's all thanks to his willpower and relentless rehabilitation."

Jack felt the need to issue this warning. While he trusted the couple's integrity, the American legal system was notorious for protecting the wealthy. If a doctor took notice and reported it, who knew what consequences might follow. He didn't want his good deed to result in legal troubles or a criminal record.

"Oh, my God, Jack, you must be an angel sent to save us. You have no idea... We've even been looking for a suitable nursing home. I don't know how to thank you." Aunt Dee Dee hugged Jack, sobbing. It was clear that this tough former detective had been worn down by Hunter's condition.

The visit, initially planned for half a day, lasted the entire day. When Jack and Hannah finally prepared to leave with the gun box, it was already evening.

"I'll come back next week for another treatment. Uncle Hunter should be fully recovered in about two months. Please keep this confidential." Jack reiterated his warning, still concerned.

Dee Dee, now calmer, nodded repeatedly, reluctantly bidding them farewell.

As Jack started the Mustang, Hannah's exuberant expression puzzled him.

"Why do I feel like you're happier than Dee Dee?"

"Because I finally know one of your secrets. You actually know mysterious Chinese medicine, something even Zoe doesn't know."

"Heh." Jack sighed, unable to comprehend Hannah's thought process.

"So, as the price for keeping this secret, will you tell me what that mysterious perfume you've been using is called?" Hannah grinned mischievously.

"Huh? What perfume? I'm an evolved human with no body odor; I don't even need deodorant, let alone perfume."

"Don't lie to me. Ever since you became a cop, you've had this really nice minty smell. Come on, tell me. I've been looking for that scent everywhere."

Jack's brain stuttered for a moment before he recalled, "You mean the Liu Shen Florida Water I use?"

"And you said you didn't use perfume?"

"Uh..." It took Jack half an hour on the way home to explain to Hannah that Liu Shen Florida Water (correctly translated as Six Gods Floral Water) wasn't a perfume but a Chinese product used for repelling mosquitoes and refreshing the mind. However, Americans were familiar with Florida Water as a type of light perfume.

He had no choice. In the sweltering August heat of LA, with daytime temperatures easily reaching 37-38 degrees Celsius, wearing the LAPD's long-sleeve wool uniforms was unbearable. Without the floral water, he'd be more than just sweaty.

What he found most outrageous was that this product was only sold in some pharmacies and at a whopping ten dollars a bottle. It was a racket, worse than street vendors selling flour as cocaine. If only he could return to China without the system's incessant warnings. Instead of risking his life as a cop in LA, he could make a killing selling small goods from China.

The next day at work, Jack registered his finely crafted Colt Python with the police station. Stepping out, he found Hannah surrounded by female officers, all clamoring for the floral water she wore, which she had generously shared the source of, much to Jack's amusement.

That day turned out to be especially lucky for Jack. Commander Gray, usually all business, extended a rare gesture of goodwill to his savior, announcing that Jack could choose to wear short-sleeve uniforms, leaving rookies John and Lucy green with envy.

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