You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

The man in the red hoodie turned green with fright and scrambled to hide behind the man in the big T-shirt, pointing tremblingly at the alley entrance and shouting:

"That's a monster! He's the Terminator!"

"A police officer? A T-800?"

Big T frowned and threw his cards on the table.

"Look at you guys, all scared out of your wits. A few cops can't possibly put you like this. This is my territory, and nobody dares to just barge in..."

Before he could finish speaking...

Click, click, click.

Lyon, carrying his AR-15, strolled leisurely into the yard as if taking a leisurely walk.

He wasn't even out of breath or red in the face, and his neatly combed hair wasn't messed up at all.

"Wow, it's quite lively here."

Lyon glanced at the money and cards on the table, smelled the air—a strong odor of opium—and finally his gaze settled on the large, fat man.

Did I interrupt your afternoon tea time?

Big T didn't immediately recognize who the white police officer in front of him was.

After all, in his opinion, all the white cops in Seattle looked pretty much the same, and Leon had been missing for several days. Besides, he was just a small-time gang leader who only cared about his own little corner of the gang.

He only saw that the policeman came in alone.

Even if a person is holding a long gun, in the eyes of gang members, he is not much better than a sheep.

"Yo, slow down, officer."

Big T took a step forward, relying on his 300-pound weight and the presence of his seven or eight henchmen, and struck a pose as if he were the boss of the area.

He spread his hands, trying to appear both intimidating without escalating the situation directly:

"This is private property, understand? Private party."

"You can't just barge in with that big gun and scare the kids. These little guys just got lost. Whatever they did, it's a small matter."

"Give me some face, officer. Don't make things unpleasant for everyone. Go back to your car, let's keep to ourselves."

As he spoke, Big T winked at his underlings, signaling them to slowly surround him.

These white police officers are most afraid of being labeled as racially discriminatory and of mass riots. As long as they outnumber the people, a few words of intimidation are usually enough to drive them away.

Lyon's smile widened, and he deliberately lowered the muzzle of his AR-15, pointing it directly at Big T's leg.

"A private party? Big T, if I remember correctly, you're still on parole, aren't you?"

"Don't glare at me like that. Everyone knows you're just a watchdog for the King's Gang on 23rd Street."

"Just because I haven't bothered you before doesn't mean I don't know about your messy affairs."

"If your mad dog Aug knew you were planning a shootout with the police and raided the entire hideout for these three idiots who stole potato chips from the convenience store..."

Leon paused, his tone suddenly turning cold:

"Do you think you'll be sent to jail to pick up soap first tonight, or chopped up and fed to the dogs by your boss?"

"Currently, this compound is suspected of illegal gambling, illegal possession of controlled substances, illegal possession of drugs, harboring fugitives, obstruction of justice, assaulting police officers, and violent rioting."

"Now I just need to press a button on the walkie-talkie, and in twenty minutes the SWAT team can tear your lousy barbershop to rubble, and they can even legally search your underwear."

"You're the one who doesn't want things to escalate, not me. Understand, Fatty?"

"If you have any brains at all, you'd better figure out who's the one who should back down."

Big T was so enraged by the string of "dishes" Lyon rattled off that the veins on his forehead bulged.

His hand reached down, but he held back. After all, the other person was a policeman; the underworld didn't operate like that.

It's important to understand that American police officers are very united. No matter how much he provokes them, as a minor leader, he can't actually kill a police officer; otherwise, things would get out of control.

He glanced at Lyon's calm demeanor and became even more uncertain.

This policeman's attitude was too tough, so tough that he didn't seem like a patrolman on a fixed salary, but more like a colleague trying to take over his territory.

Just as Big T was hesitating whether to stand up for himself again, the black buddy next to him who had been reading pornography leaned close to Big T's ear:

"Big T Bro! Big T Bro! Don't be impulsive!"

"That's Vance! Leon Vance!"

"Who?" Big T was stunned for a moment, clearly not matching the name with the cop in front of him who was making him furious.

"That's the guy from outside the bank the other day! Rumor has it he single-handedly took on five thugs wielding submachine guns with a Glock, and shot them all without batting an eye!"

"He killed five people, but the police didn't even investigate; they just gave him three days' leave and he came back!"

"According to my cousin's neighbor, he was at the scene at the time. He felt that killing five people wasn't enough, so he almost shot him as well."

"This guy has a terrifyingly powerful background; even the Ministry of Internal Affairs doesn't dare touch him! We can't afford to mess with him, boss!"

Rumors spread incredibly fast, especially in the United States where conspiracy theories are rampant.

What was originally just a drug addict with a baseball bat and a revolver has now been transformed into "five ruthless thugs wielding submachine guns," with speculation even suggesting that Leon has connections within the police force.

ha?

Killed five? And he's back to work in three days?

He then looked at the white police officer in front of him who had run hundreds of meters without breaking a sweat.

This kind of physical ability, this kind of aura...

If I really fought with him, it wouldn't just be a matter of going to jail; I'd probably be found dead in some sewer tomorrow, shot seven times in the back.

So what else can we do? Hurry up and curry favor with them.

Since it's the police officer in charge of my area who's come knocking, this is actually a good opportunity. Establishing contact with them will benefit both myself and everyone else in the future.

As for those three brats, let's just offer them up as a sacrifice. Consider it a contribution to the boss. Anyway, these brats won't be punished much if they're locked up.

Big T immediately backed down and slid to his knees at lightning speed.

"Damn it, you bunch of ill-mannered brats!"

Big T suddenly shouted and turned around to deliver a powerful blow to the man in the red hoodie who was still hiding behind him.

"Snapped!"

The slap sent the man in the red hoodie spinning around on the spot, his face turning bright red and his vision blurring.

Big T touched his hand; he'd hit it so hard it was numb. He continued cursing as he touched it.

"Who gave you permission to come this way?!"

Then, Big T suddenly stretched out his big foot, tripping his accomplice who was trying to slip away in the chaos, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud.

"It's a misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"

Big T kicked several people to the ground, his face beaming with smiles. He approached Leon and pulled out a pack of unopened premium cigarettes from the side.

"Officer, are you smoking? These little brats are so ignorant, I hate bad kids like them the most."

"Please don't do it yourself, you'll get your hands dirty. I'll take care of this small matter of disciplining the child!"

"Hey! What are you all standing there for? Hold these three brats down! Apologize to Officer Vance!"

The henchmen next to him were also stunned; this was the first time they had ever seen their boss back down.

Although they hadn't figured out the situation yet, they had no choice but to do what their boss had given them.

Some people had already drawn their sticks, but they couldn't bring themselves to use excessive force when arresting their own people, so a group of big men surrounded a few children and pretended to put on a fake fight.

There's no other way. We're all neighbors and acquaintances. If you hit someone else's child today, how will you get along in the underworld?

Lyon watched this scene, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

He had originally thought that if this guy had any backbone, he would just confront him directly. He wondered what kind of high-value mission the system would issue. In the end, he just admitted defeat and backed down.