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

Chapter 98 Developments

Eric didn't embellish the story, only stating the accurate information available at the moment.

After speaking, he looked at the silent Tifa, facing the window, and told her to absorb the information first.

Not long after, heavy breathing could be heard.

Eric glanced at Tifa, who was taking a deep breath, and asked, "What are you planning to do?"

Tifasser chuckled, “My father will probably use his connections to put pressure on the police department.”

Eric understood what he meant: to put pressure on the police department through various means, whether political or media-related, to crack down on the Rusty Harbor gang.

But here's the problem: if the Rusty Harbor gang really is a small branch of the Grizzly Gang here, then it must also have related interests involved.

If you come from an elite family, you might know a powerful person who could speak on your behalf.

However, relatively speaking, isn't it also true that gangsters who can live comfortably are not without connections?

Here, black and white coexist because money is a good thing; it can do many things.

As mentioned before, there are corrupt police officers even down below, so what about up above?

So many of the endings are the same as the previous patrol officers: the gang admits defeat, backs down, and just finds someone to take the blame.

The only difference between the two is whether the person taking the blame has any social standing.

Either the gang sacrifices some of its own interests to give someone a chance to vent their anger, which has always been the gang's way of surviving.

"So, is it revenge or just venting your anger?" Eric asked gently.

"No matter what choice you make, I will stand by your side."

For him, revenge meant annihilation, while venting his anger was simply venting his anger.

However, Tifa looked at him, shook her head, and said firmly, "No! This has nothing to do with you, Eric."

Eric paused for a moment, then chuckled, instantly understanding Tifa's thoughts.

It's simply because we're worried about him. After all, no matter what, he's just a low-level patrolman, and common sense tells us he's not really useful.

To put it bluntly, he kept many things from Tifa that were difficult to talk about, so Tifa's understanding of him was still only superficial.

"I'm a little tired, Eric."

Hearing Tifa's slightly tired voice, Eric reached out and pulled her into his arms to comfort her.

"With me here, I'll help you investigate this matter first."

No! You still shouldn't do anything.

"Alright alright."

----------

Ward.

Genos remained unconscious as usual.

Tifa looked at her father and asked, "What did the doctor say?"

The stern father, Jeo, had softened considerably and sighed, "The examination results are alright. They said Genos should wake up during the day."

Tifa nodded and looked at Eric.

Eric noticed her look, patted her hand, and made an excuse to go to the restroom before leaving the ward.

Since Tifa already knows these things, her family will naturally know them as well.

There was a click.

The door closed, and Eric glanced back at Tifa, who had already begun explaining, and her family, who were shocked by the incident. He then looked away, sat down on a bench by the hallway, and took out his phone to find Manny's and the others' phone numbers.

"Hey Manny, can you help me look into this?"

Experienced patrol officers who patrol from midnight to morning know more people than the average person imagines, including prostitutes, street thugs, and even gang members, and have their own connections.

“Okay, I’ll look into it for you, Eric.”

Manny replied quickly, and Eric put away his phone and remained silent.

The veteran patrol officers on the night shift are indeed the wolves in the police station.

After all, in the dead of night in Los Angeles, everyone on the move could be a federal criminal, and the intense tension of being enveloped by darkness is something that ordinary patrol officers can't handle.

"shit!"

Eric heard Jor's voice coming from the ward intermittently. He shook his head inwardly and glanced subconsciously at the ward next door.

To this day, the other party has not asked about the girl's condition and does not know that the girl's ward is actually next door.

Compared to Tifa's brother, this girl seemed to have been abandoned by the whole world, remaining quiet and withdrawn.

Not long after, with a click, Tifa walked out of the ward in front. Eric watched her close the door and then walked over and sat down next to her.

"Are you okay?"

Tifa shook her head, leaning close to Eric's side: "We've decided to put pressure on the police. We don't care about anything else, but at least we have to catch the killer who beat Genos."

Eric nodded and said, "I support you."

Even so, for some reason he thought of Genos, who might wake up during the day.

He felt that this was the only variable.

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

Eric opened his eyes, glanced at Tifa, who was nestled against his right side, and carefully moved her a little before getting out of bed from the makeshift hospital bed.

Looking back at Tifa's family, each with their own arrangements, sleeping around the hospital bed, I carefully walked out of the ward.

Then take out your vibrating phone.

It was already past 5 a.m., a time when people are most tired or asleep.

It was a message from Manny.

"Sleep?"

Eric replied, "No."

Manny: "We'll be waiting for you downstairs."

Eric put away his phone, went straight downstairs, and found a patrol car parked on the side of the road outside the hospital.

Meanwhile, Manny and his old partner Ron were smoking in their patrol car.

There were also several bags on the roof of the vehicle that looked like they contained sandwiches and toast.

As he walked over, Manny reached up and grabbed a bag from the roof of the car and threw it at him.

Good morning, Eric.

Good morning, Manny, Ron.

Eric took it and opened it to find a hot Mexican burrito filled with eggs, beans, peppers, cheese, and more.

Without saying thank you, he casually picked up one of the eggs and started eating, then looked at Manny.

“I asked a few people for information,” Manny said.

"Yes." Eric nodded.

"so?"

"I heard that Aiguer from the Rusty Harbor gang sent a girl named Terry to serve a really bad client, and then the client probably hit her, and she fought back."

Manny's voice reached his ears, but Eric just slowly ate the burrito in his hand.

"Aigul?"

“The boss of the Rusty Harbor gang,” Manny responded to the question, then continued.

"Then your girlfriend's brother found out and tried to take her away, just in time to run into Aigur's gun."

"To make an example of you, Agul might also target your girlfriend's brother."

Eric nodded to indicate that he had taken it to heart, finished his sandwich in one bite, and didn't ask about the credibility of the matter, because it was probably true, that simple.

Watching Eric packing up the bags, Manny said in a deep voice, "That's basically how those scum operate: pick a troublemaker, throw acid in her face, and then leave her alive to warn everyone."

Eric remained silent.

-

It's almost 6:30 in the morning.

They parted ways with Manny.

Eric didn't go up immediately. Instead, he stood there for a moment, then bought some things outside before turning and entering the hospital. Speaking of which, according to Manny, the girl's situation was quite tragic; she had been controlled by Aiguer of the Rust Iron Harbor gang since she was very young.

"and many more."

Eric, who had just entered the hospital, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Very small?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly and suddenly thought of this sentence, feeling a little uneasy, but this sudden feeling quickly passed.

Eric tilted his head, temporarily suppressing his thoughts, and took the breakfast he had bought upstairs.

His basic maneuver immediately won over Tifa's family.

Even Jay, who initially disliked him, thanked him.

Eric said gently, "You're welcome."

Then he handed the last, still-warm breakfast to Tifa, who had just woken up, and sat down next to her.

"You'll take my mom and Rella back later," Tifa whispered.

Eric did not refuse: "Okay."

She added, "Get some rest. I'll contact you when I'm done with my work."

Eric understood her thoughts and nodded as usual; he, too, wanted to see how things developed.

If Tifa and the others can handle this on their own, then he doesn't need to do anything extra.

It's about ten o'clock in the morning.

Eric took Tifa's mother and sister home and settled them in before returning to his own home alone.

at this time.

The renovation on the second floor is also nearing completion.

It's roughly the same as before, but the entire partition wall and related furniture have all been replaced.

It looks brand new compared to before.

After receiving the renovation and furniture invoices again, Eric sent all the invoices to the home insurance manager that afternoon and waited for the compensation to be processed.

However, before this compensation came through, another compensation for his vehicle, which had been damaged in Koreatown, was quietly received.

high speed.

After hanging up the call from the West Canyon Police Department, Eric checked the incoming text message and saw a total of $79975 in deposits.

Just like that, I got a new car.

This really means he didn't suffer any loss.

"It's alright," Eric thought to himself, putting away his phone.

--------

At 10:30 p.m., while Eric was still silently waiting to see how things would develop.

A middle-aged Black man with a shaved head, wearing a light blue shirt and black casual pants, walked across the street with a book in his hand and eventually entered a long bridge restaurant at the street corner that was open 20 hours a day.

"Hey, good evening, McCall," the restaurant owner inside greeted.

“Good evening, old Flint,” McCall, the ride-hailing driver who had given Eric a ride, nodded.

Judging from the tone of their conversation, the two are quite familiar with each other.

So familiar with the place that McCall didn't even have to say anything to order; the restaurant owner was already preparing it.

McCall glanced subconsciously at the empty bar, and then subconsciously remembered the girl who always sat there eating sweets every night. His eyelids fluttered slightly.

This seemed to be the first time he had ever seen an empty bar counter. In the past, there would always be a girl sitting there eating sweets and talking to him.

He found a corner seat on his own, sat down, and meticulously aligned the book in his hand with the edge of the table. Then he aligned the tableware on the table one by one and placed them side by side under the book.

Then he took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slowly unfolded it.

Just as I unfolded the small tea bag inside, the restaurant owner walked over with a cup and a kettle, placed the cup on it, and then poured water.

McCall casually tossed the tea bag in, glancing at the bar again out of the corner of his eye.

"Your little friend didn't come tonight, and I doubt he'll be coming today either," said restaurant owner Flint as he filled a glass of water.

McCall looked up at the restaurant owner.

"I heard she got into trouble, and it's causing quite a stir," the restaurant owner said.

"I don't know the specifics, but I'll try to find out for you."

McCall paused for a moment, then finally nodded.

Restaurants that operate 24 hours a day naturally have many regular customers.

Besides, the old Flint has been running for decades without incident, which speaks volumes.

He had heard that old Flint had a history with organized crime and still had some connections.

Flint didn't say anything more, but slowly left with the kettle, leaving McCall alone watching the bar.

He had accidentally seen the tattoo on McCall's arm and knew from experience that McCall, this regular customer, was not simple and should be able to provide some help to poor Terry.

Poor little Terry.

--------

The fifth day of my vacation.

On the brand-new bed, Eric opened his eyes at the appointed time, looked at the curtains illuminated by sunlight, and reached for his phone on the bedside table.

Eight o'clock.

I set his biological clock to 8 o'clock last night, and he woke up right on time.

Eric put down his phone, stretched casually, sat up, and stared blankly into the empty space in front of him. His eyes, which had been somewhat lively, suddenly became vacant.

Eric found himself feeling incredibly empty when he had nothing to do.

Especially when he had practiced all the relevant skills to their maximum potential, and further practice would no longer yield any progress.
"Ah~"

Eric rubbed his face, grabbed his phone, and got up to make himself breakfast using the refrigerator's stock, as was his usual habit. Then, sitting at the table, he ate while calling Tifa to ask about the situation.

They enlisted the help of people like prosecutors and other classmates to put pressure on the Los Angeles Police Department. Now, the North Hollywood Police Department has agreed to raid Rusty Harbor gang territory and find the killer who beat Genos.

There should be new developments sometime in the afternoon or evening.

Listening to Tifa's explanation, Eric looked at the phone playing on the speaker on the table, still feeling uneasy.

I don't know if it's because after adding points, my five senses and that sixth sense have become more sensitive than before, which is why this is happening.

He kept thinking about what Manny had said: that girls are controlled from a very young age.

"Eric?"

Eric snapped out of his daze: "I'm here. Your brother Genos is awake?"

“No,” Tifa said.

"But she should wake up soon."

Eric thought for a moment: "What about the girl?"

Tifa said, "I just went over to check on her. She's still unconscious, but there's a very young girl by her side. I think she's her friend or sister."

I'll keep an eye on her; after all, she's Genos's no matter what."

Tifa's voice trailed off as she spoke.

Eric frowned slightly. Were the internal injuries quite severe? But upon hearing this, a thought struck him.

"I'll bring you some food later. Don't think about sending me away. Right now, I should be by your side."

Tifa paused for a moment but did not refuse, her voice becoming very soft: "I love you, Eric."

Eric smiled slightly: "I love you too."

That's the end of the sweet talk.

Eric started packing and personally prepared some food to take over.

His old mode of transportation was a thing of the past, and there was no time to bother with his car anymore, so Eric could only continue to get to the hospital by calling a taxi.

I pulled out the Uber app.

Eric instinctively thought of the Black driver, McCall, and tried to find him, but the Black driver wasn't online. So Eric just randomly found another ride-hailing driver with decent reviews to take him to the hospital.

(End of this chapter)