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

"Alright, everyone stop what you're doing. I have a couple of things to say."

Lyon clapped his hands, the crisp applause sounding particularly jarring in the now quiet office.

Carlos and Kevin, those two heartless opportunists, reacted the fastest, immediately coming over with ingratiating smiles on their faces.

Jacob, who had just gotten up from the ground and was still rubbing his chest, looked apprehensive. Faced with the suppression of power, he obediently stood by the table.

As for the other muscular men, they were clearly still a bit unconvinced, having just lost money. They looked at each other, their eyes still showing some hesitation and repulsion, before finally turning their gaze to the deputy leader, Harrison.

Harrison sighed, not wanting to embarrass Lyon by speaking up. He stubbed out his cigarette and gave the group of stubborn guys a look that said, "Don't be stupid, listen to me."

Only then did the group of people stand up sparsely, and although their posture was crooked and awkward, at least they gave them face.

Lyon glanced around at the group of oddballs, feeling nothing at all.

He didn't care at all whether he accepted it or not.

Is it best to be obedient, or disobedient?

From then on, whenever there was a task requiring breaching a door or facing heavy firepower, these big guys became the best meat shields.

Anyway, ACU has a high casualty rate, so replacing it with a batch of obedient people is just a matter of filling out a few forms.

"I'll keep it short. I just met with Director Sterling and chatted with some friends from the Federation."

"The FBI has a big job. They need to conduct joint law enforcement operations on our turf. To put it simply, they need to keep watch in the Seattle industrial area and find one or more warehouses."

"I'll give Harrison a detailed mission briefing once the FBI sends over the information."

"It might be boring, it might involve staying up all night, or it might be very lucrative."

Upon hearing the word "profit," the eyes of several people visibly lit up.

"As for now..."

Lyon raised his wrist and glanced at his watch:

"Everyone has been sitting here all morning to give me, the new team leader, face. It's been quite a long day for them."

"Everyone, go home and catch up on your sleep, or find a place to relax."

"Your attendance time this afternoon will be postponed by three hours. Please come to the meeting point at 7 p.m. today."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with the evening's work, these few hours are on me, and attendance will still be paid."

"Delayed by three hours? Really?"

Jacob's eyes lit up instantly, and the resentment he felt from the fall visibly dissipated by more than half.

The muscular men who were barely alive suddenly raised their heads, their hostility lessened, replaced by a pleasant surprise that "this boss is manageable."

A boss who proactively grants paid leave to his subordinates is a rare breed, no matter where he is.

"Really? Long live the boss!"

"Thanks, sir! I'll go back and catch up on my sleep now!"

Seeing these guys scatter like birds, looking all grateful, Leon couldn't help but feel speechless.

So these seemingly fierce troublemakers are actually so easy to bribe? A few hours of paid slacking off can completely change their attitude?

That's asking too low.

As for whether they will take advantage of us later?

It doesn't matter, I'll just beat them up again later.

"Alright, Mia, you should go back and rest too. See you tonight."

Leon waved away the little tail that was still following him, then picked up his car keys and turned to walk towards the elevator leading to the underground parking lot.

……

A few minutes later, in the underground parking lot.

Lyon twirled the car keys between his fingers, preparing to walk towards his Dodge Challenger.

In that very instant.

"Buzz—"

A chilling sensation, like some slippery, cold-blooded animal crawling across his spine, made the hairs on his body stand on end.

Danger perception (passive)

[Description: A life-saving skill that costs 2000 points. When there is potential malice directed at you, or when there is a potential threat in the environment, your intuition will react before your eyes.]

Just now, during a break from his office visit, Leon finally made up his mind, made a bold move, and spent a whopping 2000 points to exchange for this passive skill.

Although it's tempting to stack attribute points to 20 and transform yourself into a humanoid Gundam or One-Punch Man.

But he was well aware that he was in modern America.

The saying goes, "No matter how high your martial arts skills are, you're still afraid of a kitchen knife; no matter how good your kung fu is, one shot can take you down."

In America, a land teeming with snipers and snipers, the ability to foresee danger is the key to survival.

The fact that this feeling of palpitation is not intense indicates that the threat level is not high, or that the other party has no intention of taking action for the time being.

It has a tail?

Lyon calmly opened the car door and, using the rearview mirror and the reflection in the glass, discreetly glanced around the back.

A shadow flickered behind the pillar in section C.

There was indeed someone following him.

From the moment he left the police station building, this gaze had been fixed on him.

Leon narrowed his eyes, a cold smile playing on his lips, and pretended not to notice anything as he bent down and got into the driver's seat.

The instant he closed the door, his right hand naturally reached for the Glock 17 at his waist. If the other party dared to show their face, he was confident he could blow their head off in 0.5 seconds.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from the side and behind.

Someone came running over.

"Hey! Boss! Wait a minute!"

Leon's eyes narrowed, and he had already drawn his gun halfway, but when he saw who it was, he stopped abruptly and instead adjusted the hem of his coat.

It's Carlos.

His face, sporting a flamboyant mustache, was pressed against the car window, his smile as bright as a chrysanthemum.

The murderous intent in Leon's eyes vanished instantly, but he didn't completely release his grip on the gun handle and lowered the car window by a third.

"What? You think you didn't earn enough just now? Want to bet me if I dare to fire a gun in the parking lot?"

"I asked in an unfriendly tone."

"No way! Boss, you're joking!"

Carlos rubbed his hands together, and with a fawning expression, pulled out a roll of US dollars from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. Judging by its thickness, it must have been at least a thousand or two dollars.

This action almost caused Leon to draw his gun on him.

"Boss, this is the prize money from that betting round."

"In our underworld, the dealer gets the meat, but the boss should at least get some soup, right?"

Carlos handed the money through the car window, lowering his voice and looking rather mysterious:

"Here's half; please take it and buy some cigarettes. Don't think it's too little; it's just a token of my appreciation."

Lyon glanced down at the roll of banknotes that still smelled of his body heat and cologne.

This kid is quite interesting.

There were only about ten people in the office just now. Even a fool like Jacob wouldn't carry hundreds of dollars in cash to gamble with his colleagues. The bets would at most be a few hundred dollars in turnover.

Is it simply that this guy is too eager to improve?

"Oh."

However, Leon's unease did not disappear with Carlos's appearance; on the contrary, it became even clearer as the man drew closer.

There's something fishy about Carlos.

"Carlos, you're not very good at math."

Leon looked at him with a half-smile.

"That betting odds just now could have yielded a profit of three or four thousand? You included Kevin's graphics card cost in that calculation?"

"Hey boss, that's not how you do it."

Carlos blinked, his expression meaningful.

"Following a powerful figure like you, the betting pool will only grow bigger and bigger. This little bit of money is just a token."

"Okay, I understand what you mean."

Lyon casually tossed the money into the glove compartment in the passenger seat.

"Since it's a token of my appreciation, then I won't stand on ceremony. You've got potential, kid; I'm rooting for you."

"Work hard in the group from now on, and you'll get good rewards if you follow me."

Seeing this, Carlos's smile widened, but before he could say anything more to express his loyalty, Leon's next words sent a chill down his spine.

"However, Carlos."

"If you want to express your feelings to me next time, just do it in the office."

There's no need to follow me to the parking lot.

"I have a bit of neurasthenia, so I don't really like people knowing what kind of car I drive, or which direction I drive in when I'm not working."

"You know, it's easy to have insomnia in our line of work."

Carlos's smile froze on his face.

"Ah...yes, yes! Boss is right, I was inconsiderate!"

He chuckled dryly twice, then subconsciously took two steps back. "Then I won't bother you any longer. Take care, see you tonight!"

See you tonight.

Lyon gave him a meaningful look, then rolled up the window, stepped on the gas, and drove away from the parking lot.

Carlos was left alone, his smile gradually fading, replaced by a growing gloomy expression.