I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

After the fight, football team captain Jack Davis's drunkenness subsided somewhat.

But a burning rage still lingered in his chest, along with a nauseating feeling as if he had swallowed a fly.

Harris, still shaken, kicked a soda can hard from the roadside.

"Damn it, that bastard is a real piece of work!"

Miller glanced back at the direction of the bar with some concern.

"Are we going to be in trouble? That Chinese kid looks pretty shady."

Just then, the piercing, high-pitched sound of police sirens suddenly appeared from afar, shattering the night sky of the community!

Two police cars, flashing blinding red and blue lights, slammed on their brakes like sharks smelling blood, precisely blocking the intersection in front of them and their escape route behind.

The car door opened quickly, and several police officers in dark blue uniforms got out of the car and walked straight toward them.

Jack has sharp eyes and spotted the breathalyzer in the policeman's hand immediately.

"Hey guys, good evening. We've received a report that you're drunk and causing a disturbance."

The middle-aged police officer in the lead had sharp eyes that quickly swept over the faces of Jack and his three companions, who were obviously young and even childish.

His tone was relatively calm, but carried an unquestionable authority.

"Also, please show us your identification documents."

Jack's heart sank.

Oops!

None of them are under the legal drinking age of 21!

A chill instantly shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.

The effects of the alcohol completely vanished.

The others also panicked and turned pale.

According to the federal Minimum Drinking Age Act of 1984, New York State sets the minimum drinking age at 21.

It is illegal for minors under the age of 21 to drink alcohol.

Moreover, Jack had just assaulted Zhang Han, and it's unclear what charges he would face as a result.

……

River Valley Community District, NYPD.

The air was filled with the smells of disinfectant, coffee, and some indescribable stale odor.

The guys from the River Valley College football team—Jack, Collins, Harris, and Miller—were seated separately on the hard benches.

Each of them had a handcuff on their wrist.

The results of the alcohol test were no surprise.

All four of them had blood alcohol concentrations exceeding the legal limit for minors under 21 in New York State.

That is, the "zero tolerance" standard of 0.02%.

A uniformed, serious-looking police officer is taking a statement from Jack.

Jack's mind was buzzing.

Half of it was the lingering effects of alcohol, and the other half was the chilling fear of having committed a terrible crime.

He stammered as he tried to explain that Zhang Han had provoked him first, attempted to drug him, and insulted him and the team.

"He provoked me! Officer, he deliberately provoked me!"

The officer didn't even look up, his pen scribbling away on the paper, his tone flat as he said:

"Mr. Davis, whether the other party provoked you is a matter the court needs to consider. But the fact is, you, a college student under the age of 21, were drinking in public and assaulted another teenager, causing him injury. These facts have been established."

Just then, the door to the interrogation room was pushed open.

A middle-aged white man wearing a dark suit and carrying a briefcase walked in.

Following behind him was Zhang Han, the instigator of this conflict.

Zhang Han's left cheek was noticeably red and swollen, and there was a band-aid on the corner of his mouth.

He even deliberately limped slightly when he walked.

He looked like a victim.

But when his gaze swept over Jack, a hint of undisguised smugness flashed across his eyes.

"Good evening, officer."

The man in the suit spoke in a steady, resonant voice as he pulled out a business card and handed it to the officer in charge.

"I am Richard Clarke, Mr. Zhang Han's attorney. My client has just undergone an initial examination at the hospital, and this is the medical report."

As he spoke, he placed a document on the table.

The officer took the business card and report and quickly glanced at them.

Attorney Clark continued in that unquestionable tone:

"According to the report, my client suffered soft tissue contusions to the face, lacerations inside the mouth, and mild concussion symptoms. This constitutes bodily harm."

"We demand that the most severe charges be brought against the attacker, Jack Davis. At the same time, his three accomplices, as witnesses present, may also be investigated for possible complicity or cover-up."

Jack suddenly looked up, staring at Zhang Han in disbelief, and blurted out:

"Concussion? You fucking joking! I only threw one punch!"

"Watch your words, Mr. Davis."

The officer gave Jack a warning look, then turned to the lawyer and said:

"Mr. Clark, the level of the charges needs to be determined by the district attorney's office based on the evidence."

"Currently, Mr. Davis faces primarily a violation of drinking alcohol in public while under the age of 21, as well as a misdemeanor charge of third-degree assault. Of course, if the injury assessment you provide ultimately supports more serious injuries, the charges can be upgraded."

"Level 3 attack?"

Lawyer Clark raised an eyebrow slightly and exerted pressure in a firm tone:

"Officer, my client is an outstanding international student. This unprovoked violent attack has caused him severe physical and psychological trauma, and its impact is extremely negative."

"Given that the attackers were motivated by such retaliation simply because my client refused to participate in their despicable plot against another teammate, it demonstrates their dangerousness and extremely low moral standards."

"Therefore, we insist on charging him with second-degree assault (felony) and recommend that the court consider his status as a student-athlete and impose a severe sentence as a deterrent."

"Level 2 attack?"

Collins, standing next to him, gasped and turned even paler.

Harris and Miller, both looking completely bewildered, exchanged glances.

They were not very clear about the specific legal provisions.

But the term "secondary attack" sounds intimidating enough.

The officer frowned and said in a businesslike manner:

"Mr. Clark, the level of an accusation requires supporting evidence. At this point, the injury report appears to fall more into the category of a misdemeanor. Of course, we will record your comments and submit them to the prosecutor."

He turned to Jack and said in a serious tone:

"Davis, listen to this. Third-degree assault is a Class A misdemeanor in New York State, which carries a maximum penalty of one year in prison."

Sentenced to one year in prison?

Jack felt a chill run up his spine.

Will a one-year prison sentence leave a criminal record?

Was this year's competition completely ruined?

What will the Duke coach think of him?

And then there were the college scouts who had high hopes for him…

Thinking of this, Jack was almost suffocating with despair.

Fortunately, the police continued:

"Of course, given that you are a first-time offender and a college student, you will likely be sentenced to probation, community service, a fine, and mandatory attendance at anger management courses."

Zhang Han, standing behind the lawyer, slightly raised his chin.

Seeing Jack's face instantly drain of color, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curved upwards.

But he quickly put on an expression of mixed pain and anger, and deliberately spoke loudly to the lawyer:

"Mr. Clark, I must emphasize that my personal safety has been seriously threatened. They are a small group; this time they are targeting me, and next time they may target other students. I hope the police will take this seriously and, if necessary, apply for a restraining order to prevent them from approaching me and my school."

Attorney Clark nodded and said to the officer:

"My client's demands are very reasonable! Considering that the attacker and his companions are all physically strong athletes with obvious violent tendencies, we are formally applying for a restraining order against Jack Davis and his three companions, prohibiting them from approaching Mr. Zhang Han in a certain area, including schools and public places."

The officer took notes, then said to Jack:

"I acknowledge that the victim's demands are reasonable. So, young men, you can't go home tonight. You need to notify your parents or guardians to bail you out."

"In addition, you will be temporarily detained before the judge's hearing. As for the restraining order, you need to apply to the family court, but based on the current situation, the chances of it being granted are very high."

"Notify...my parents?"

Jack's voice was hoarse; he could almost picture his father's rage and his mother's disappointed gaze.

And the teams...

And there's the game against Lincoln College on Friday...

it's over...

It's all over...

"That's right."

The officer closed his notebook, stood up, and said:

"Now, come with me."

"Where are you going?"

"Go make the call. Then go to the detention room and wait. Sir, your client can leave now. The prosecutor's office will contact you regarding any follow-up matters."

Accompanied by his lawyer, Zhang Han turned and left.

As he passed Jack, he paused slightly, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, with undisguised malice:

"Heh, Captain Jack, you asked for it!"

After saying that, he stopped looking at Jack's regretful, ashen face and followed the lawyer out of the police station with his head held high.