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

Chapter 195 Three Sticks and One Spear

All three parties were on one side of the lake.

If any one party causes a comprehensive impact, then the middle position will inevitably be the most affected.

On Steve and Jenny's side, they had both changed into their swimsuits, ready to play in the water and enjoy sunbathing before sunset, when they encountered this group of boys who looked rather uncivilized.

Especially considering the disgusting sight of the Rottweiler defecating on the spot, the two exchanged a glance, both showing helplessness; their carefully prepared mood had vanished once again.

Steve glanced at the RV and saw that the couple had already lay down to rest, whether asleep or chatting, he couldn't tell.

"Good."

He said, then looked at Jenny: "Want to take a dip before that dog makes a mess of the water? We still have some time, we can still make it."

Jenny shook her head; her desire to soak in the water had long since vanished. She lay down on the drape and said, "No, you go ahead. I'll watch the things."

Steve sighed, "Okay, I'll go play for a bit and be right back."

He probably needs some cold water to cool down his current agitated mood.

Today was a disaster; nothing went right.

With that, Steve picked up his diving mask, put it on, and jogged toward the lake.

He lunged forward and plunged into the lake.

Over at the RV, Tifa, who had been quietly observing the situation, suddenly said, "That dog couldn't hold back anymore."

Eric nodded, for thanks to his superhuman eyesight, he saw much more.

After watching the group of boys stare at Jenny lying there and show corresponding expressions, he patted Ronaldo at his feet and shook his head inwardly.

The dog's behavior was not autonomous; it was guided.

He was certain that these boys were definitely the evil side.

Micro-expressions are the most authentic expressions because they are unconscious or subconscious emotional responses.

It is usually triggered directly by the emotional center of the limbic system of the brain, and occurs before consciousness and the cerebral cortex have a chance to intervene and modify it.

Moreover, they are difficult to fake because they only last for a fleeting moment, between 0.04 and 0.5 seconds, which is much shorter than the time it takes for a human to consciously control their facial expressions.

Therefore, he now has a much deeper understanding of people's hearts than before.

He discovered all the boys' seemingly secretive behavior.

Their rapid, subconscious scans, like searchlights, were extremely fast and greedy as they scanned Jenny's face, especially her lips, chest, waist, hips, and legs.

In his view, this is not appreciation, but an instinctive scan to assess the value and weaknesses of the prey.

The pupils dilate slightly, a brief physiological response indicating the woman's attractiveness to them.

Some even have one corner of their mouth turned up, a classic expression of contempt, arrogance, and superiority.

A brief, fleeting lick of the lips is not a sign of tension, but rather a subconscious signal of desire and impending predation or destruction.

So they've taken action now, and it's hard to say whether these boys' purpose isn't with them.

Moreover, these boys are by no means good people; they harbor strong malice and aggressive intentions towards women.

Eric glanced at Tifa instinctively.

Ah, very good.

Although it won't hurt me to look at them, I still find those stares quite disgusting.

Fortunately, Tifa was fully clothed and nothing was exposed.

"Hmm?" Tifa noticed the gaze, and her professional instincts instantly told her what was going on. She crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and leaned closer to whisper:
"Honey, I never knew you had such a cute side!"

Eric coughed lightly, turned his head and continued looking in that direction: "It's starting."

Tifa smiled and looked over as well.

Just as Eric had said, the Ronaldo began to trot toward Jenny, who was lying there.

Combined with its robust physique, it still has a great impact.

Jenny felt it especially strongly. Startled, she instinctively stood up, grabbed the blanket next to her, and stared wide-eyed as Ronald ran over and barked wildly beside her.

Wang!Wang!Wang!
They were so close that Ronaldo's saliva sprayed right next to her.

Jenny was stiff all over and dared not do anything.

But just as her heart was about to sink into despair, thinking Ronald was going to bite her, the boys whistled.

"Hey, Bonnie, come here, come here."

At the same time, Steve, who had just plunged into the water, witnessed this scene and felt his whole body explode.

He stared intently as Ronaldinho barked, then quickly returned.

"Good girl, Bonnie."

Especially after the boys kept praising him, Steve took off his diving mask and started swimming ashore.

"Hey, I'm fine."

Ignoring Jenny's head-shaking protest, Steve glanced at the cheering boys, picked up his diving goggles, and strode over.

In the coffee shop, the two men who harassed him were twice his size, but he tolerated it.

These damn boys, who have no parents to raise them, are even smaller and thinner than him. He just couldn't take it anymore.

-

Things were developing so quickly that Tifa couldn't help but ask Eric, "Honey, do you think he can handle it?"

“Difficult.” Eric shook his head: “What happened in the coffee shop and the fact that he asked for our opinion already shows that this person is only suited to survive in urban civilization.”

His good living environment taught him that one should be well-mannered and reasonable.

Such people often back down when faced with unreasonable people and unreasonable places.

They don't know the limits of human potential.

Tifa understood what he meant; the man had lost some of the courage and spirit that men should have due to the influence of his living environment.

However, Eric didn't mention one more thing: there's a saying that goes, "The soft fear the hard, the hard fear the stubborn, and the stubborn fear the reckless."

And these kinds of boys who are neither fully grown nor too young are the most dangerous.

After all, the other side wasn't just one person, but five.

Under the watchful eyes of Eric and Tifa, and with Jenny's worried gaze, Steve finally walked up to the group of boys.

The two of them sat, while the three of them stood and all stared at Steve with a hint of mockery in their eyes.

Hearing the loud music, Steve said, suppressing his emotions, "Hey guys, can you do us a favor and turn the music down a bit?"

However, the boy sitting on the ground, who was clearly the leader and also the more muscular, laughed mockingly: "Can't hear me, buddy."

Steve immediately shouted, "Turn the volume down! Thanks!"

However, the boy was not afraid at all and continued to laugh, "Still can't hear me, buddy."

Upon hearing this, the group all burst into laughter.

This left Steve somewhat bewildered, unsure of what to do for a moment. Looking at the jarring speaker, he simply bent down and pressed the button to turn it off.

"Can you hear me now?"

"Hey, do you know what you're doing?" The boy's smile vanished as he stared at Steve.

“I know, keep an eye on your dog, buddy,” Steve said.

"It scared my girlfriend."

Steve thought sending a warning would be enough, but to his surprise, the other party suddenly changed their tune:
"So she's your girlfriend? Your girlfriend is a slut, she's a complete bitch."

Steve's breath hitched, and he stared intently at the boy.

"What? Are you going to hit me?" the boy asked in a teasing tone.

Upon hearing this, Steve subconsciously glanced at the boys whose eyes were starting to look strange. Despite his anger, he suppressed his emotions and said...

"Don't act like an idiot. This beach is big; there's plenty of space for everyone."

But before he could finish speaking, the boy who was in charge interrupted him, his smile fading as he stared coldly at the slightly stunned Steve.

"Fuck! Who are you calling an idiot? Damn it, say it again and see what happens!"

Steve's chest began to heave. He met the boy's gaze, wanting to say something but finding himself completely speechless.

He noticed that another boy sitting next to him suddenly pulled out a gleaming knife, stuck it hard into the sand, and stared at him.

Even the three boys standing there looked at each other with hostility.

The tense atmosphere made him feel the danger.

So Steve pursed his lips, shrugged, not daring to provoke them, and said, "I'm just asking you to keep your dog under control. We don't want any contact with you. Let's all mind our own business and not interfere with each other, OK?"

After saying that, he took a deep breath, turned around and left, cursing under his breath as the other person raised their middle finger.
He swore he would never come back to that godforsaken place again.

The next second, the loud music started again, causing Steve to stop halfway. But remembering the knife, he could only suppress his anger and walk back to Jenny.

-

“Darling, you’re right,” Tifa said.

“Alright, it’s my turn to go.” Eric shook his head and sighed as he watched Steve return, seething with anger. He then sat up and turned to Tifa.

“Anyway, we need to gain their favor, and this is also an opportunity to test them.” Despite her confidence in Eric, Tifa still spoke with concern:

"Be careful!"

"Ah."

Eric smiled and nodded. He was never careless. He casually picked up a wooden stick about the thickness of his arm and began to walk slowly toward that direction.

The boys remained arrogant, even shouting behind Steve:

"Look, this madman, madman get out of the way."

To be honest, Eric was very curious whether the boys' behavior and actions were spontaneous or orchestrated by someone.

His movement instantly attracted the attention of Jenny, who was sitting there, and Steve, who hadn't returned yet.

The two of them stared blankly as Eric approached, most of their attention drawn to the wooden stick in Eric's hand.

“Uh.” Jenny watched Eric stride past her, opened her mouth as if to say something but couldn’t get the words out.

Only Steve looked at Eric, took a deep breath, and said:

"Buddy, what do you want to..."

Eric interrupted him before he could finish: "Reasoning isn't how we communicate here."

After saying that, he walked past the stunned Steve and continued striding towards the group of boys.

Eric's actions were naturally observed by the five boys.

Compared to Steve's humble demeanor and seemingly weak eyes and physique, Eric's aura was significantly more prominent.

Because they are young, their senses are more acute than those of other adults.

So what they saw first wasn't Eric's handsome face, but his eyes.

As the most unusual part of his face, Eric's eyes were not fierce or sharp, nor did they have the obvious raging anger that Steve was displaying, nor were they empty and lifeless.

Instead, it was a bottomless calm, like the deathly still, leaden-gray sea before a storm, or a deep, sunless, icy pool deep in the forest.

When that gaze fell upon them, the five boys felt a subtle, inexplicable sense of wariness, like a cold snake, creeping silently down their spines, making them feel uneasy.

That's not all. Coupled with Eric's burly physique and the thick wooden stick he was holding, the aura he exuded was not an overt threat, but a heavy, chilling low pressure.

All of this formed a strange and striking contrast with Eric's handsome face, and it was this contrast that amplified their unease.

The five boys exchanged glances, their previous nonchalance towards Steve gone, and instead they frowned as Eric approached.

The boy who had planted the folding knife on the lakeshore instinctively and silently withdrew it. A wariness and a hint of barely perceptible surprise instantly replaced his previous sinister demeanor.

Everyone immediately went into a state of full alertness and vigilance, looking at Eric with wary expressions.

Completely different from his arrogant and domineering demeanor just now.

Eric walked a few steps away from the speakers and stopped, standing between the boy holding the folding knife and the boy who was clearly in control.

A huge, dirty portable Bluetooth speaker was blasting distorted bass and piercing electronic screams at maximum volume. The drumbeats pounded in the air like heavy hammers, and even the sand underfoot seemed to vibrate.

Eric's gaze swept over the five people, finally settling on the roaring speaker.

His lips moved, his voice not loud, not even deliberately amplified, yet strangely piercing through the cacophony, carrying an undeniable, cold calm, striking clearly into the eardrums of every boy:
"Turn it off."

The commanding tone made the boy, who was already intimidated by Eric's imposing manner, shout like a cat whose tail had been stepped on:
"What did you say?" His voice had become sharp and shrill compared to before.

"Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you order us around!"

“So you can hear me.” Eric said calmly, showing no emotional fluctuation in the face of the boy’s sudden outburst, his gaze still fixed on the speaker that was making the noise.

"Hey! Are you deaf, you big dummy? Can't you hear the fucking music going? Get the hell out of here! Don't get in my way!"

With one of the leaders stepping forward, one of the three standing boys, wearing a hat, spoke in a bluffing tone, cursing.

Others chimed in, "Exactly! Where did this stray dog ​​come from? Get lost!"

However, when faced with this barrage of insults, Eric simply did something that left all the boys momentarily blank and their thoughts completely frozen.

It involves using a wooden stick to lift the handle of the speaker, then easily tossing it into the nearby lake.

The entire lake beach instantly returned to calm, and the air seemed to freeze for a moment.

“Now it’s quiet,” Eric said with a smile.

"If you need one, I can replace it for you, um, a new one."

This completely surprised Jenny and Steve, who were surprised that Eric would dare to do such a thing. They felt a little nervous looking at the stunned boys.

But just as they expected, that's exactly what happened next.

Eric's actions completely ignited the powder keg.

The boys completely lost it.

The boy holding the folding knife was the first to react and the first to be set on fire.

At Jenny's gasp, his expression instantly twisted into rage. With a screech, without any warning, he jerked his arm, gripping the folding knife, the tip gleaming with a malevolent light, and viciously stabbed it towards Eric's abdomen. The movement was swift and ruthless, carrying a wildness.

"Die, you bastard!"

But just as the blade was about to touch Eric's clothes, Eric's right wrist, which was holding the stick, twitched slightly. His forearm muscles tightened instantly like steel cables, causing the heavy wooden stick to become a blurry shadow. It struck the opponent's wrist holding the knife with perfect accuracy from bottom to top, accompanied by a short and sharp whooshing sound!

He hates guys who threaten to kill people at the drop of a hat.

"Crack!"

A sharp, clear cracking sound rang out! The rage on the knife-wielding boy's face was instantly replaced by unbelievable, excruciating pain.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, and the folding knife flew out of his hand, arcing through the air before embedding itself in the sand not far away.

His right wrist was twisted at an odd angle, and his whole body looked as if his bones had been removed. He screamed and knelt down on the scorching sand, clutching his broken wrist.

All this happened in a flash of lightning.

The boy who was in charge, who was sitting on the other side, hadn't even fully recovered from his shock when he saw his companion fall down like a rag doll.

The initial shock was instantly replaced by a furious rage.

"FUCK YOU!"

Like an enraged bull, with bloodshot eyes, he roared and abandoned all technique, charging headlong at Eric like a runaway truck!

He spread his arms, intending to use brute force to tackle and subdue Eric, and then resolve the issue with his fists.

"He's still just a little kid, his movements are full of holes. Wait, did I bully him a bit?" Eric's mind raced, and he shook his head. Faced with the collision, he didn't even move his body much.

He simply took a half step back with his left foot very naturally, lowered his center of gravity, and instantly stabilized his rock-solid lower body.

At the same time, the right hand holding the wooden stick retracted, while the left hand shot out with lightning speed, not to block, but to precisely grab the arm that the opponent was swinging as he charged, clamping it down like an iron clamp.

At the same time, using the huge momentum of his forward charge, Eric pulled back his right arm and used the wooden stick to draw a short and powerful arc. The stick, carrying a heavy wind pressure, swept solidly across the outside of the opponent's supporting leg's knee!

"Oh!"

Another heavy thud, like a mallet hitting a sandbag.

The thick wooden stick snapped in half on the spot, and the boy who was leading the charge came to an abrupt halt, replaced by a scream of pain even more agonizing than his companion's.

He felt as if his kneecaps had been smashed by a hammer, and the excruciating pain instantly drained all the strength from his legs.

The rage on his face was instantly replaced by a twisted pain. His body lurched forward uncontrollably, but Eric held him up by the arm. Like a bird with broken wings, he fell heavily to one knee in the sand, clutching his aching knee and letting out a suppressed groan of pain.

Woof! Woof!
The next second, a deep, furious roar suddenly exploded! A black shadow as strong as a calf, like a black cannonball, tore through the air at an astonishing speed, heading straight for Eric's throat!
It was that protective Ronnaeus; the most dangerous animal on the entire scene was still this beast.

Eric, who had been watching the dog's movements closely, remained expressionless. With a sudden flick of his right wrist, the thick wooden stick, now only half its original length, lashed upwards with a sharp whistling sound, striking the Ronawe's jawbone precisely and fiercely as it lunged to bite!
"Crack! Bang!"

A chilling cracking sound and a heavy thud erupted simultaneously! The immense kinetic energy contained within the broken wooden stick exploded instantly.

The Ronawe's ferocious attack was abruptly interrupted. It let out a short, shrill cry as its heavy body was whipped and flipped sideways in mid-air, like a tattered sack that had been knocked away, slamming heavily onto the scorching sand a few meters away, rolling around and whimpering in pain.

Its powerful jaw was visibly crooked and deformed as it struggled to get up instantly.

Three blows, swift as lightning.

He tumbled over, clutching his wrists, and let out a piercing wail.

One of them knelt on the ground, unable to get up, and roared in pain repeatedly.

A dog whimpered and struggled to its feet, still trying to pounce on Eric with its deformed jaw.

But in the very same millisecond that the stick sent the vicious dog flying, Eric dropped the stick, which was now only a small piece, and his right hand flashed out behind his waist.

A cold, heavy, deadly matte black object instantly appeared in his hand: a Staccato 2011 P pistol.

The dark muzzle of the gun was steadily pointed at Ronaldo, who was running towards him and letting out a threatening growl.

The best way to deal with a dog that has no sense of pain is to kill it decisively, and Eric pulled the trigger without hesitation.

boom!
Gunshots rang out on the empty, silent beach, striking the hearts of everyone except Tifa!

A scorching bullet, moving at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, pierced with unparalleled precision between the eyebrows of the Rottweiler's massive head.

The hideous head snapped back, and a horrific, bowl-sized, mangled gash burst open between its brows! Red, white, and fragmented bone mixed with thick liquid sprayed out.

Ronneway's strong body slammed back onto the sand as if all the bones had been removed. His limbs twitched violently a few times before stiffening completely.

The atmosphere on the beach instantly changed drastically; the remaining three boys froze, stopping their corresponding movements.

Looking at Eric firing the gun, for the first time, the eyes above his pale face clearly revealed undisguised shock and a hint of...fear.

(End of this chapter)