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

Chapter 68 Victims (Revised)

Having said all that, Eric didn't immediately receive the response he expected.

It was clear that Holland and Levin's nerves were malfunctioning, and they hadn't yet figured out why Eric was there.

Or rather, why would an ordinary low-level patrol officer be in such a place?
"Uh?"

Eric could probably sense how Holland and Levin felt, so he shrugged and made an innocent, movie-like expression.

"Perhaps the first thing I should say is, what happened?"

"Shit!" Holland was the first to react, but he was a beat too slow and even forgot about the important matter of dealing with the police situation. To him, this problem was more important than the police situation.

"Eric? What are you doing here?"

"What are you saying?" Eric asked with a smile, his expression unchanged.
"Why can't I be here? This is my home."

"Your home?" Holland paused for a moment, looking left and right at the huge two-story villa. He took a deep breath and finally came to his senses. He exchanged a glance with his partner Levin on the other side and said with a wry smile.

"Shit! So you're rich!"

As they spoke, he and Levin looked at Eric, and the change in their eyes was so obvious that Eric could see it.

A rich guy working as a low-level patrolman, and even working so hard to stand up for his colleagues. Although patrolmen seem glamorous, they're actually just as miserable as rich people! Wait, is this rich guy really so righteous?
Eric said helplessly, "I think you might be overthinking it."

He does have ten million in cash, but he hasn't received it yet, so he's still poor.

"You really are..." Holland opened his mouth, then put away his gun, realizing he couldn't express the complex thoughts in his mind.

Levin, standing nearby, also holstered his gun, shrugged, and subconsciously glanced at the villa before drawing a conclusion in his mind.

Yes, this is not a house that the average person can afford.

Seeing that the two had come to their senses, Eric returned to the main topic: "So, can you tell me what happened?"

Holland and Levin exchanged another glance: "Someone called the police, saying they heard gunshots."

Eric's expression remained unchanged, and he was completely unmoved, glancing outside once more.

He saw a villa about thirty meters away, similar in size to his, that was now brightly lit.

It's highly likely that this emergency call was made by this neighbor.

As seasoned patrol officers accustomed to the streets, Holland and Levin were well aware of Eric's changing expression.

They recalled that they had just been discussing in the car the two rather suspicious Toyota Corollas parked on the side of the road.

Holland hesitated for a moment before asking, "Eric?"

Eric looked away, glanced at Holland and Levin who were hesitant, grabbed the door and pulled it open, making room for them and shrugged.

"Why don't you come in and take a look?"

"So the gunshots were real? What happened?"

Holland and Levin were completely dumbfounded. Their right hands instinctively reached for their holsters, and they walked warily past the spot Eric had cleared for them, heading into the house.

Noticing this, Eric reminded him, "It's all over."

What kind of talk is this?

Holland and Levin exchanged a glance, but they still couldn't relax. As the most important police cases for patrol officers, shootings were the most important.

But what they saw was a clean, bright, and spacious living room, a dining room, and a smooth floor.

There were no signs of a gunshot.

The two instinctively turned to look at Eric, who looked completely relaxed.

"so?"

Eric pointed towards the stairs: "Second floor."

“OK!” With Eric’s reminder, Holland and Levin slowly ascended the stairs one after the other.

Halfway there, their demeanor became increasingly unstable, and their eyes changed, because the closer they got, the more they could smell the pungent stench of blood.

The two exchanged another glance, hesitated, and walked up the stairs. They finally stopped at the top of the stairs on the second floor, looked at everything in the corridor, and opened their mouths.

"God!" Levin exclaimed in shock.

Holland couldn't help but look at Eric, who had an innocent look on his face, and murmured.

"Eric, what have you done?"

In their eyes, the hallway was filled with bloody fragments, and the walls and even the corners of the bedroom were stained with a crimson stain.

Everywhere was the aftermath of the gunfight.

Beneath this crimson expanse lay four motionless corpses.

"4 (Holenbeck Police Department) - A (Double Patrol) - 5 (Number) Call Dispatch Center, Code 1 Response Incident, Suspected Shooting Escalation, 33 Emergency, 602 Intrusion into Residence, 217 Attack on Attempted Murder, Body Found"

"."

A series of reports were not enough to express the extreme shock Holland and Eric felt. They looked at the calm Eric as if they had seen some rare person.

One against three might be impressive, but it's still within my acceptable range. However, to be completely unharmed in a one-against-ten situation is practically a legendary tale.

Yes, it's a legendary story.

Eric, however, seemed unfazed: "Why are you all looking at me like that? I was really defending myself."

These words left Holland and Levin speechless, so speechless that they looked at each other, chuckled, and shook their heads.

"Shit! Dude, look at that, his inhuman brain really seems to have no concept of anything. I really want to crack it open and see what's inside."

"So this is Eric."

----------------------

It was a little after two in the morning.

It should have been a night of rest and quiet.

However, one after another, cars bearing the Los Angeles Police Department logo and police vehicles were parked on 4801 Encino Street, almost filling the wide street area.

The red and blue lights kept flashing.

One group of technicians after another entered the villa to conduct some kind of technical survey.

Eric, the owner of the villa, is standing in front of a black man with a blank expression, looking completely innocent.

The black man was none other than his direct superior, Daves. Given the magnitude of the matter, it was naturally his responsibility to come and lead the arrangements.

Staring at Daves's still sour face, Eric shrugged and said:
"To be honest, sir, this really wasn't me deliberately causing trouble. Someone broke into my house in the middle of the night and tried to kill me!"

To be honest, Eric wasn't afraid of how much trouble this matter would bring him.

Because current California law allows residents to use force (including deadly force) to defend themselves against intruders within their residences (“castles”) without having to yield first.

This is the famous American "Castle Act".

Given the nature of the ten intruders' forced intrusion, his act of killing them one by one was a legitimate exercise of his right to self-defense.

In other words, he is now a victim.

Daves looked at Eric, who opened his mouth, but for a moment he really didn't know what to say. He had already seen the video that Eric had submitted when he came.

The recording clearly shows ten people sneaking into Eric's house, wearing black barracks hats and carrying deadly weapons.
But why would anyone want to provoke Eric? That was the thing he couldn't understand the most.

(End of this chapter)