North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 11: Ultimate Fighting Tournament

After taking just one bite, Rorschach decisively distributed all the Korean dumplings to his colleagues at the police station.

After filling his thermos with coffee, he bit into a donut and prepared to leave the office to continue his work as a patrol police officer.

In fact, strictly speaking, a patrol officer like Rorschach shouldn't even have a desk in the lobby, let alone a separate office.

But Rorschach was a chief detective specializing in murder cases not long ago. Even though he was demoted this time, his office was still retained by the police department's top management for some special reasons.

After all, based on past experience, who knows when Rorschach will take on another big case and get promoted again. Keeping the office also saves the trouble of moving.

Ginny, who was waiting for Rorschach in the police car, had urged her several times on the pager. It seemed that since yesterday, the rookie's attitude towards Rorschach had changed. He no longer had the fear and resentment he had before, and even showed some caring behavior towards him.

"What the hell happened yesterday?" Rorschach was puzzled.

But just as he was about to close the glass door of his office, an unexpected figure blocked his way.

Director Griffin stared at Rorschach with a beer belly like a pregnant woman. The bottom edge of his white shirt was tucked into his trousers and tightly tied with a black belt, making his belly look even rounder and more protruding.

"Have you become addicted to being a patrolman recently? It's been so long, and you haven't solved a single case." The director asked him dissatisfiedly.

Rorschach spread his hands speechlessly after hearing this. "That's not the case, Boss. I've only been demoted for over half a month. I'm just a patrol officer now. Can't I let the homicide squad solve the case? I'm busy patrolling the streets every day."

"You're so busy! Don't think I don't know that you just sit in the car every day, eat and wear clothes, and order Ginny to do everything for you."

"Yeah, I'm busy teaching the new guys."

Rorschach replied confidently. Seeing the director's face grow increasingly grim, he chuckled and said, "I've really been busy lately. How about this? After I'm done with these few days, I'll go help out at the Homicide Squad. Is that okay?"

Hearing this, the director's expression looked a little better. It wasn't because he wanted to exploit Rorschach's labor, but simply because this kid's ability to solve cases was too strong.

Many times, even before all the evidence is complete, this guy can identify the criminal at a glance, and after digging deep and carefully in the direction he has identified, he will always find the conclusive evidence in the end and arrest the criminal who has been identified by Rorschach.

The chief sometimes wondered if this guy was some kind of micro-expression expert, otherwise how could he be so sure whether the suspect was the murderer after only seeing him once?

"You're a smart kid. Don't worry, after you finish a few cases this time, the position of detective will still be yours. I've already said it, and no one can take it away from you."

The chief patted Rorschach's shoulder encouragingly and was about to leave with satisfaction. But before he left, he suddenly remembered something and turned to Rorschach, saying, "But it's a waste of talent to leave an elite like you patrolling the streets of the South Side. There's a UFC heavyweight championship fight in Chicago in three days. Both teams have already arrived at the United Center for warm-ups. The city attaches great importance to this match. You will be responsible for security issues there on behalf of our police department for the next few days. Don't keep hanging around in the South Side!"

Rorschach was immediately displeased when he heard this. He had been planning to stir up conflict between Gus and Salamanca in the South District as soon as possible in the next few days. Now that he was transferred to the gymnasium as a security guard, wouldn't the plan be delayed?

As if sensing the resistance in his eyes, the chief explained earnestly, "This competition is sponsored by a number of entrepreneurs in the city. Their goal is to expand the city's influence and attract tourists. Several of them are regular donors to our police department. Chains like Chila's Restaurant and Nick's Retail are also involved. If you do a good job on this, it will only benefit your future."

Rorschach, who had originally insisted on refusing, heard one of the familiar names and his eyes moved slightly. After thinking quickly for a few seconds, he nodded with a somewhat displeased expression.

"Okay, since you've spoken, Director, what else do I have to say? I'll be there soon."

"Shit, what's with that expression on your face? I'm paving the way for you, do you think I'm harming you?" The director slapped Rorschach's chest twice in dissatisfaction.

After he left, Rorschach rubbed his chin and quickly went over the director's words in his mind.

If he remembered correctly, Chila's seemed to be a chain of Mexican restaurants that the Salamanca family had started to launder money.

"The Ultimate Fighting Competition? Interesting."

--------

It's no exaggeration to say that the United Center is probably the first stop for any tourist visiting Chicago. The reason is obvious: it's the home of the Chicago Bulls and there's a statue of Michael Jordan at the entrance.

Before Mamba's plane crash, this place had always been the most popular check-in spot for star statues.

In front of the stadium, Ginny seized the opportunity and took out her cell phone quietly while no one was paying attention. She took a selfie of herself and the statue of Jordan.

"Is this your attitude when you work?"

Before I could take a few more pictures, the annoying sound started.

Rorschach snatched her phone away and reprimanded her in a dissatisfied tone, "When you put on your police uniform, you'd better put away all that idolizing and star-chasing mentality!"

Ginny watched Rorschach naturally put his phone into his pocket. She was already used to his style and didn't bother to argue. She just asked in confusion, "Aren't you from Chicago? Don't you like Jordan? Or are you a fan of James?"

Rorschach, who had been expressionless, suddenly looked humiliated. He frowned and glared at Ginny. "I admire Jordan's tough style on the court, but I can't say much about his character. As for James Farke, I'd rather be a Rodman fan than him."

"Because Rodman is also tough?" Ginny looked curious.

"No, because I want to fuck that bitch Madonna just like he does."

"."

Ginny took a deep breath and secretly vowed to herself that she would never ask Rorschach another question again.

It was the NBA off-season, and although there were not many tourists in the stadium, there were quite a few business people in suits.

These wealthy local Chicagoans were gathered around the ring, chatting and laughing with a shirtless, burly black fighter wearing shorts.

No one noticed Rorschach and his companion coming in. They were just a pair of patrolmen and not worth their special attention.

But when he saw the black fighter on the ring, Rorschach's eyes instantly turned cold.

Not only did he know this black guy, but he was also very familiar with him.

Bob Sapp, Chicago's most famous no-holds-barred fighter, has won heavyweight championship belts in UFC and Bellator MMA respectively, and is an iconic figure in the Chicago fighting world.

But Rorschach's understanding of him did not come from his fighting achievements, but from a case of intentional injury caused by domestic violence.

Rorschach still remembers that when he arrived at the scene after receiving the alarm, Bob had already beaten his wife almost to the point of shock, simply because she forgot to add Bob's favorite kale to her steak dinner.

Rorschach and his colleagues had repeatedly persuaded his wife to file for divorce, but the woman, whether out of fear or complete brainwashing, continued to serve the domestic violence man like a servant after being discharged from the hospital.

Unexpectedly, one of the contestants in this ultimate fighting competition was actually this domestic violence man. Rorschach sneered disdainfully and began to look away.

Soon, he discovered the target of this trip - the head of the Chila restaurant chain, a well-dressed middle-aged man with Mexican curly hair.

This guy is responsible for all the money laundering operations of the Salamanca family and is considered the financial accountant of this drug trafficking family.

However, just as he was thinking about how to go up and make himself familiar, a voice full of gunpowder suddenly came from the ring.

"Hey, look who this is? Isn't this Detective Butcher, the pride of our Chicago Police Department? How did he become a patrolman now?"

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(End of this chapter)