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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 · Ti vi
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
177 Chs

Chapter 120: Beating Up the Enemies

It turns out that the system's skill upgrade requirements include hidden conditions. Jack had always been puzzled why his poker skill remained at the entry level, despite his diligent practice and his two teachers' proactive cooperation.

However, just a moment ago, his skill suddenly upgraded from entry-level to proficient. Could it be that the upgrade conditions for some skills include not just proficiency but also the number of people involved?

Pulling his thoughts back, Jack got up from the bed, tucked the blanket around the still sleeping Hannah, and went to take a shower.

He prepared breakfast in the kitchen, finished his portion, and checked the time. It was still not even seven in the morning. Estimating that the sweet girl wouldn't get up before noon, he left a note by the breakfast and headed out to work.

---

"Looks like you're in a good mood today. What's up? Had a fun time with Hannah these past few days?" On their routine patrol, Lucy, who was getting bored in the passenger seat, started prying for some gossip.

Jack glanced at her sideways and admitted frankly, "Yeah, it was great. Have you decided on the new precinct you're transferring to?"

Lucy shot him a fierce glare, annoyed that he brought up the topic she was dreading. It was strange how every LAPD precinct, which previously seemed short-staffed, suddenly didn't need anyone anymore. The closest available option was a tiny precinct with fewer than twenty officers.

If she transferred there, she and Tim would only be able to see each other on weekends, which was unacceptable for the love-struck couple.

"I'm stopping the car; there seems to be some trouble up ahead."

Jack saw some familiar figures slipping into an alley at the street corner and slowly pulled over.

"What's going on?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"Just spotted some old acquaintances. Going to say hello." Jack smiled oddly.

Indeed, they were old acquaintances—some gang kids wearing hoodies who used to hang around the south downtown area. For some reason, they were now in the Wilshire District.

Before Jack officially entered the police academy, these kids used to bully him. During that time, he was worried about getting a criminal record and being unable to become a police officer, so whenever he saw these punks, he would avoid them.

Back then, with his scrawny frame, even Hannah could easily pin him down. Sometimes, when he couldn't dodge and got caught, all he could do was curl up defensively, and each time he'd have to fork out some change to lessen the beating.

After joining the LAPD, Jack didn't forget the grudge but realized that crossing districts to seek revenge would only cause trouble for himself. Moreover, as his skills improved and his future looked bright, dealing with respectable people, his perspective naturally shifted.

But now, just as he was about to leave the LAPD, fate had brought these guys in his path again. It was time to settle the score.

Seeing Jack stop the police car and start taking off his uniform inside, Lucy looked both anxious and curious, staring at him intently.

"What are you doing?"

"Those three gang kids used to hang around where I lived. Now that I've run into them, cover me while I go undercover for a bit."

Jack stripped off his uniform and police gear, revealing a T-shirt underneath. He tugged at it casually to make the loose shirt less likely to show his physique and to cover the badge at his waist.

He then removed his shoulder holster and handed over the heavy FK7.5 and his Glock to Lucy for safekeeping, keeping his head low as he entered the alley.

Lucy, nervously trailing him, peeked into the alley from the entrance to observe what was happening.

Jack walked into the alley, head down, pretending not to notice anything, until he was just a few feet from the three guys engrossed in their shady business. Then he stopped abruptly as if suddenly realizing something was off.

The guy with a spiky mohawk dyed red and yellow noticed Jack first. Seeing Jack's terrified look, the gang leader seemed a bit confused, as if Jack's face rang a bell.

"Hey, boss, isn't this the kid from the street who used to run the grocery store?"

The gang leader's sidekick had a good memory, recognizing Jack instantly.

The second guy, a curly-haired black youth, licked his lips disgustingly and pulled out a butterfly knife from his pocket, flicking it open and shut as he and the first guy flanked Jack from behind, cornering him.

"Jack, right? Long time no see. I heard you sold that little grocery store and skipped town. Looks like you're doing well now?"

With the sidekick's reminder, the leader also recalled who Jack was. He pulled out a dagger from his waistband, smirking coldly as he walked up to Jack.

Seeing that the three were close enough, Jack dropped his act. He grinned savagely and suddenly launched himself at them. His right hand came down like a hammer, flattening the second guy's nose.

The second guy screamed and collapsed to the ground. The first guy, still processing what happened, was kicked in the gut and flew backward, smacking into a wall before sliding down, barely conscious.

The leader, taken aback, saw his two buddies crumpled on the ground, one groaning in pain and the other knocked out cold against the wall, head lolled to one side as if dead.

"You know martial arts?"

The leader's hands shook like he had Parkinson's disease, his knees buckling as if about to give out. He wanted to run but didn't dare. He brandished the dagger at Jack, waving it erratically.

Jack, expressionless, stepped closer, mimicking Bruce Lee's iconic stance, yelling, "Yaaaah!"

The leader flinched, almost dropping the knife in fear.

Before he could blink, Jack delivered a perfect spinning side kick, sending the knife flying out of the leader's hand.

"Help! I'm sorry! Please, spare me!"

The leader's legs gave way, but before he could kneel, Jack grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up.

"Damn it! If apologies were enough, what would we need the police for?"

Jack pounded the leader's face repeatedly, holding back just enough to avoid killing him. Even so, the leader's face soon became a bloody mess, his eyes and mouth askew, blood streaming from his nose.

Satisfied, Jack exhaled deeply, then lifted the leader upside down, shaking him by the legs like a rag doll.

Lucy, worried Jack might go too far, had already caught up. She picked up a bunch of scattered bags from the ground, filled with pills, leaves, and even a small packet of white powder.

Glaring at the still-smiling Jack, Lucy called for backup over the radio.

Jack had taken out his frustration, but he'd exercised restraint. Despite their brutal appearance, the three were only lightly injured, not even needing an ambulance. They could be hauled back to the station directly, and being street thugs who couldn't afford lawyers, there was no worry about complications.

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