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

As the staff member's announcement faded, the door to the lounge was suddenly pushed open by two men in suits who appeared to be bodyguards.

Seattle Mayor Douglas Reynolds strode in.

The mayor, who always appeared energetic on television, now showed obvious signs of fatigue; his eyes were puffy and his forehead was covered with a fine layer of sweat.

But his face still showed a warm smile as if he were seeing his long-lost son.

"Ha! This is our hero! Seattle's savior!"

Mayor Reynolds dramatically spread his arms and lunged straight at Lyon, clearly intending to give him a showy bear hug.

Lyon stood still, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

Just as the mayor's arm was about to wrap around him, Leon naturally took a half-step to the side, extending his right hand and placing it in front of the mayor's chest, turning the embrace into a handshake.

"Mr. Mayor, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Lyon spoke politely but distantly, while holding his breath.

He wasn't particularly nervous; it was mainly because the old man smelled so pungent.

A complex, synthetic chemical smell, a blend of expensive cologne, cigar tobacco, and some kind of antiperspirant, assaulted my senses and was even more intoxicating than the bloody stench of the dismemberment scene from last night.

Mayor Reynolds froze in mid-air.

His smile froze on his face for half a second, and a hint of displeasure flashed in his shrewd little eyes.

Normally, which junior policeman would dare refuse his hug? He'd be sent to guard the reservoir tomorrow.

But not now.

So he swallowed his displeasure, and the stiffness on his face quickly melted away, returning him to his warm demeanor.

He took Leon's hand and shook it vigorously, then patted Leon's shoulder affectionately.

"Great! Very energetic!"

"I really appreciate professionals like you who stay alert at all times. You're truly a talent under Chief Sterling!"

He turned his head, gave Sterling an approving look, then quickly turned his attention back to Lyon, his expression becoming slightly more serious, and lowered his voice as he said:

"Listen, kid. The preceding remarks are just formalities; the main event is the Q&A session that follows."

"Those reporters...you know, some are our people, and some are troublemakers who come specifically to cause trouble."

The mayor moved closer, and the pungent smell of cologne became even stronger:

"No matter how angry they get at you, no matter how stupid the question sounds."

"Please, please don't let your hot temper as a frontline police officer show."

He held up a finger and waved it in front of Lyon, his tone extremely solemn:

"Never say things like 'Those scum deserved to die,' 'I was just cleaning up the trash,' or 'They fired first, so I sent them to hell.'"

Even if that's what you think in your heart, even if it's the truth, you can't say it out loud.

"The current situation is very sensitive."

The mayor nervously wiped the sweat from his brow.

"The Black Lives Matter (BLM) group is watching, as are those human rights organizations (ACLU)."

"Among those dead drug dealers were African Americans and Latinos. Even though they were armed, if you say one wrong word, tomorrow's headlines will be about white police officers committing racial cleansing or the Seattle Police Department's lynching."

"At that time, we'll all be in trouble."

"You need to appear regretful and helpless. Remember! We need to be 'tolerant'."

Mayor Reynolds tried his best to put on a compassionate expression, setting an example for Lyon:

"You should say: This is a heartbreaking tragedy, and we are equally filled with pain when we have to take action."

"Do you understand? You need to make them feel that you fired to protect more people."

Lyon wanted to roll his eyes inwardly at these words; American political correctness was truly disgusting. But outwardly, he nodded and gave a standard fake smile.

"Understood, Mr. Mayor."

"I will act like a poet who has just lost a beloved person."

"Very good, I knew you were a smart person!"

Mayor Reynolds patted Lyon's arm with satisfaction, then glanced at his watch:

"It's time, let's get ready for the flashbulbs."

……

The press conference hall at Seattle City Hall.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!"

As soon as the door was pushed open, the previously noisy chatter was instantly drowned out by the rapid clicking of camera shutters, leaving white spots on the retinas.

Mayor Reynolds walked at the front, his steps steady, a resolute smile on his face.

Director Sterling followed closely behind, his steps elegant and his expression solemn.

Leon walked at the back. Although he wasn't wearing makeup, his slightly pale face and his eyes squinting slightly in the bright light perfectly matched the media's image of a "tired hero who has just returned from hell."

The three walked onto the stage and stood in front of a huge blue backdrop covered with the Seattle city emblem and police badge.

For the next ten minutes, Mayor Reynolds began his long and rambling performance into the microphone.

He began by condemning the recent violence in a somber tone, downplaying the chaos in the North District as "the infiltration of external gang forces." Then, he abruptly changed the subject and began to passionately praise the West District Police Station's swift and decisive action.

Big words like "tenacity," "uncompromising," and "rule of law" are being thrown around like they're free.

Finally, he placed his hands on the podium, leaned forward, and faced the countless cameras, speaking in a tone that seemed to hold back tears:

"We are a diverse and inclusive community. Violence has never been our first choice for resolving problems."

"We deeply regret the lives lost in last night's conflict... even though they chose the wrong path and stood against the law."

"...Please believe that the mission of this municipal government has never changed."

"That means sparing no expense and using every resource to defend the safety and dignity of every Seattle citizen! In our city, no one will be forgotten!"

Leon, who was standing to his side and slightly behind, suddenly felt a little nauseous when he heard these words.

Leaving aside the inclusive nature unique to democratic parties, the main point is the last sentence.

In Mayor Reynolds's, or rather in the dictionary of this country's elite, there are thresholds for citizenship.

It does not include those who live in tents, those who do not have health insurance, or even blue-collar workers who live in slums, pay taxes on time, but earn meager incomes.

"...Now, let's welcome the on-site commander of the operation the night before last, the true hero of Seattle, Officer Leon Vance!"

Sterling's voice interrupted Lyon's further thoughts.

Mayor Reynolds stepped back half a step, led the applause, and looked at Lyon with anticipation.

Lyon took a deep breath, concealing the disgust and mockery in his eyes, and then strode forward.