The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 171 A Born Killing Machine

Hearing Daves's sudden hesitation, Eric teased, "Sir, you're not saying the police station can't function without me, are you?"

Daves glared at him, annoyed. "You think that's possible? Stop trying to make yourself look good!"

Eric shrugged: "Anyway, I'm definitely going to take these three days. If the investigation team needs me to call and provide more details or cooperate with the investigation, I'm available anytime."

Daves stared at Eric for a few seconds, and finally sighed: "Okay, go to the system and fill out an eLeave Request, write 'urgent personal matter' as the reason, and I will approve it online."

Remember to fill in your emergency contact information and the approximate time periods when you can answer calls. For the next three days, your walkie-talkie channel will be blocked; if the police call you, they will transfer you directly to your mobile phone.

“Yes, sir!” Eric shouted.

“Go fill out the form and then go back to sleep. You look like you’ve been run over by a truck,” Daves said impatiently, waving him away.

Eric ignored Daves's complaints and turned to leave, though he knew his mental state was probably unchanged.

Since he added points to his physique, his body seems to have undergone some kind of transformation, and now he can easily stay up for one or two nights without any problem.

Eric quickly slipped to the terminal on the first floor, logged into the personnel system, found the leave application module, and filled in the dates for three consecutive days starting tomorrow, the type of leave (personal leave), the reason (as Daves had instructed), and for the emergency contact, he directly filled in Will's phone number.

There's nothing we can do; he's all alone now.

Click Submit, and the status will show Pending Supervisor Approval.

The next moment, the system refreshed, and the status changed to "Approved".

Get it done.

Eric nodded to the few female officers who were secretly glancing at him, causing a small commotion, before walking away.

Back in his Ford Raptor, Eric, though not tired at all, habitually stretched, glanced one last time at the police station building, started the car, and drove away.

-

At 7:00 a.m. sharp, the city of Los Angeles, like a giant machine, began to mesh and accelerate.

Traffic has become denser. It's no longer the sporadic roar of traffic at night.

Eric thought for a moment and decided to go check on the Burmese children first, just in case they had inadvertently done something serious again.

We arrived at the hotel.

Eric sensed that everything was normal even before he went inside.

I went upstairs and quietly opened the door.

Eric's gaze swept across the room, a barely perceptible emotion flickering across his face. Four Burmese children lay sprawled on the floor, fast asleep.

Clearly, they were exhausted.

Eric shook his head inwardly, gently closed the door, and decided to go home to rest and pack his luggage for his trip to Quantico, Virginia.

I went downstairs, left my phone number with the hotel owner, and told him to let me know if anything came up.

And whatever the children in Myanmar need, please provide it.

Upon returning to the Ford Raptor, Eric didn't immediately start the engine; instead, he pulled out his phone to book a flight.

He plans to leave today.

I didn't tell Tifa, but gave her a strong surprise as an apology.

After booking his flight for 12:10 PM today, Eric drove home and began tidying up.

Firearms like these probably can't be brought in without special preparation.

So he only brought the essentials, such as clothes.

After all, it only takes about five hours to fly from Los Angeles to Washington Dulles International Airport in Virginia.

quickly.

"As long as the plane doesn't crash, it'll be fine," Eric thought to himself.

To be honest, he had very little confidence in American aviation safety, especially considering the "glorious" record of a certain company. If something happened at 10,000 meters, even with his current physical enhancements from Deep Blue, he would still be finished.

Unless you really become a superman.

"Please, please, nothing bad happens!" Once this thought popped into Eric's head, it lingered in his mind like a curse.

He shook his head, stuffed the last few items into his backpack, and decisively rushed into the bathroom to take a cold shower to calm down.

After taking a shower, Eric quickly checked the home security cameras again to make sure everything was working properly.

Judging that it was about time, he picked up his backpack and went out.

Before leaving, he had already called Lei to come pick him up.

Not long after, a Ford F-150 pickup truck pulled up on the side of the road. It was the kind of vehicle that was most popular in America, combining practicality and power.

Ray looked at Eric waiting on the street, pulled over and stopped the car, rolling down the window: "You look great, buddy."

Ericla opened the passenger door and got in: "That's the advantage of being young. How's Mia doing?"

When this topic came up, Lei's face relaxed, and she said easily, "She's fine. She said those people just locked her up and didn't do anything to her. Maybe those scum are waiting for the next batch."

"Thank goodness." Rick also breathed a sigh of relief and casually adjusted the center console.

Ray nodded, glanced at Eric, and steered the car toward the hotel.

So where are you going?

Eric adjusted his settings and found the radio station he wanted to listen to: "Virginia."

Upon hearing this, Lei seemed to realize something and raised an eyebrow.

Eric clearly saw the change in his micro-expression and added, "Don't overthink it, buddy, he's just going to see his girlfriend."

Lei let out a soft "Oh".

At this moment, it was the radio broadcast that caught his attention: "Seven more people were murdered in this house last night. Police sources indicate that all signs point to a turf war between gangs. The list of the dead has not yet been released."

Ray and Eric exchanged a glance and both smiled.

The process unfolded exactly as they had anticipated; after acquiring so many spoils, the police station in Lynwood would handle the aftermath for them.

In reality, even without drugs or anything else, most police reports about gang members are treated as gang fights.

No police officer would help gangsters investigate a case because it's a thankless and pointless task.

-

The Ford F-150 pickup truck came to a stop in front of the hotel.

“I’ll go up and bring them down,” Eric said to Ray, and after receiving a nod in response, he got out of the car.

He walked straight to the front desk and even asked the owner sitting there, "Is everything alright?"

Seeing the boss shake his head in response, Eric went up to the room that had been opened.

The door had barely been pushed open a crack when a sense of crisis suddenly washed over them! A small, thin, dark figure burst out of the door with astonishing speed!

In a flash, Eric recognized it as Zhizhimin, and helplessly said in Burmese:
"it's me!"

The small black figure suddenly stopped in front of them, its raised hand frozen in place.

Zhizhimin opened her eyes wide, as if she had been frozen in place, staring fixedly at Eric.

Eric's gaze fell on her tightly clenched right hand, which was a toothbrush with an unusually sharp end.

Eric's lips twitched involuntarily. The little guy clearly knew that a stab was far more deadly than a slash.

Looking at the small figure in front of him who was beginning to show unease, a thought clearly surfaced in Eric's mind.

"This is simply a born killing machine!"

(End of this chapter)