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

Chapter 172 Uncle
Zhizhi Min silently put away her right hand, hiding the sharp toothbrush behind her back, and looked at Eric with some trepidation.

"I thought."

Eric didn't answer immediately. Looking back, he saw three younger boys peeking out of the room or the bathroom one by one.

Eric roughly knew why the boys were doing this: either they could run away as many as possible, or they were using bait to lure them in.

Based on this alone, these children, who are only about ten years old on average, are clearly not ordinary children.

Eric looked at the uneasy Zhizhimin and couldn't help but tap her smooth little forehead. After she winced in pain and instinctively covered her forehead with her left hand, he said seriously.

"This is not the place where you live. It's much more peaceful than where you are. You don't need to be on guard all the time."

As she spoke, Eric pulled out her right hand, which she had been hiding behind her back, and, under Zhizhimin's blinking gaze, took out the toothbrush that she had been clutching tightly in her right hand, and continued:
"So remember to act only after you've determined the nature of the situation and the enemy's position, instead of acting without distinguishing friend from foe, understand?"

Zhizhimin nodded seriously.

“If you don’t change this behavior pattern,” Eric said, standing up and looking at the boys who had come out one after another and were now lining up behind them.

"Otherwise, I really don't know how to get along with you."

Zhizhimin whispered, "Don't give up on us. We will be obedient and won't do it again."

Sensing the seriousness in his voice, Eric let out a soft sigh and said, "Remember that uncle who was with me last night? He's the adoptive father of Mia, the girl you're protecting."

Seeing that Zhizhimin and the others nodded, Eric continued, "He will arrange a new place for you to stay and then help you find a way to resolve your identity issues."

-

Even though he could sense the children's reluctance and sudden attachment, Eric still handed the children over to Ray first.

“It’s yours, Ray,” Eric said to Ray, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, carrying his backpack.

"Are you sure you don't need me to take you?" Lei asked.

“No need, I’ll just take a taxi.” Eric shook his head and refused, glancing at the children, including Zhizhimin, who were watching him from inside the car, before instantly switching to Burmese.

"Don't forget our promise, listen to Lei."

Zhizhimin simply looked at Eric and then obediently nodded.

Seeing this, Eric took a step back, signaling that Ray could leave.

“See you later, Eric. I’ll take good care of them.” Ray understood and began to slowly steer the car away from the spot.

"Okay, see you later, Ray." Eric waved.

Even though the car was already far away from where it was, the eyes of Zhizhimin and the other children inside the car remained fixed on the figure standing there.

Ray noticed this, but he didn't understand why Eric had done anything in just one night to make these children so attached to him.

One can only say that Eric might have a kind of magic, a magic that makes people trust him and unconsciously rely on him.

"Don't worry, he'll be back in a week."

-

As the car disappeared from sight, Eric turned and left.

I hailed a taxi on another street to Los Angeles International Airport.

The car struggled to move forward in the congested morning rush hour traffic, like a giant python suffering from indigestion.

Eric wanted to rest for a while and look around, but the driver was the very talkative type. "Sigh, here we go again. It's like entering a parking lot every day at this time," the driver said, glancing at Eric in the rearview mirror.

"But I'm used to it. LAX is always busy during rush hour, there's never a quiet moment."

Especially in Terminal B, there are many international flights, and airport transfers, car rentals, hotel shuttles... everything is crammed together.

Eric simply responded with a smiley face to his complaints.

The driver glanced at Eric in the rearview mirror. "Buddy, with all that luggage, just a backpack? Going on a business trip? Or going home?" he asked casually, his tone more like trying to break the silence than genuinely inquiring about his privacy.

"Going out for a bit," Eric replied simply, his meaning clear.

But the driver probably wasn't very perceptive, and the conversation quickly jumped to the next topic: "This year's gas prices... are really killing me."

Eric looked helpless and could only close his eyes, ignoring his complaints.

Perhaps it was because he closed his eyes that the driver understood, and for a moment he calmed down and they arrived smoothly at the iconic white-themed buildings of LAX Los Angeles International Airport.

When they reached the fork in the road leading to the departure level, the driver skillfully turned on his lights and merged into the slowly moving flow of vehicles dropping off passengers.

"Let's get off here." After stopping at the destination, the driver turned back to Eric.

Have a pleasant journey.

"Thank you," Eric replied, taking out his wallet from his pocket, pulling out a few bills and handing them over before getting out of the car.

As soon as I got out of the car, the driver immediately merged into the traffic without any delay.

Eric smiled and slowly walked toward the white-themed buildings that were right in front of him.

Los Angeles International Airport is the largest and busiest main airport in Los Angeles, with routes covering almost all major cities around the world and across the United States (including a large number of direct flights to Washington Dulles International Airport).

Almost all major airlines (United Airlines, Delta, American Airlines, Southwest Airlines, etc.) operate here.

However, there is a drawback: the terminals are quite spread out, and moving between terminals requires taking a bus or walking a long distance, and the security check queues are also very long.

Before entering the station, a middle-aged man with a weathered face caught his attention.

Nothing else, this weathered-looking uncle was casually smoking a cigarette, his eyes filled with a hint of confusion, and his whole being exuded a sense of melancholy.

"This feeling?" Eric subconsciously raised an eyebrow. He seemed to have only ever seen this feeling in McCall.

Although they are not exactly the same, it seems that the feeling of melancholy and confusion is the same.

Perhaps his gaze lingered for too long, for the middle-aged man also sensed the strange gaze, and with a quick glance, it precisely landed on him.

Eric nodded in acknowledgment, and then, under the watchful eye of the older man, walked into the terminal.

"This guy's got a really sharp sense of things. I hope he doesn't cause trouble again," Eric muttered to himself as he walked in the direction he was supposed to go.

He was genuinely worried that his unlucky constitution might affect his flight.

-

The huge electronic display screen scrolled through dense flight information. Finding the status of his own flight was the first challenge. Eric quickly located Delta Airlines' area, where a long line had formed in front of the check-in counter.

Eric opted for the self-service check-in machine. He inserted his credit card, scanned the electronic boarding pass QR code on his phone, and the machine buzzed, spitting out a hard boarding pass with his seat number (27A – window seat).

Having no checked baggage saved him the most time-consuming step.

(End of this chapter)