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

"A hero! This is a true hero!"

The mayor immediately realized what was happening, led the applause, and his face was once again filled with that feeling of being moved:

"Well said! Our police force is indeed a selfless and dedicated team!"

The flashbulbs went off again, and this time even the reporters who were looking for fault couldn't find anything to criticize.

The next few questions were much less interesting, mostly routine questions like "How are your injuries?" and "What advice do you have for the public?"

Lyon handled the situation flawlessly, leaving no room for anyone to find fault.

Half an hour later.

"Thank you for coming, friends from the media. This press conference is now concluded."

With an announcement from the public relations secretary, this grand show, full of political calculations and traps, finally came to a close without any major incident.

Mayor Reynolds rushed forward immediately. This time, he didn't dare to hug him, but instead gripped Lyon's hand tightly, his face flushed with excitement.

"Well done, Lyon! Well done!"

"Your performance just now was absolutely perfect! If you ever decide you don't want to be a police officer anymore, you could easily become a spokesperson in my office!"

Mayor Reynolds was practically overflowing with enthusiasm; he had even started planning in his head how to get Lyon into the city hall's security advisory group, or even just stuff him into the public relations department as a mascot.

Lyon looked at that big face and felt a wave of disgust.

Go to work at the city hall?

Wouldn't that mean having to smell this cheap cologne every day and work with a bunch of idiots who keep talking about "diversity" and "inclusivity"?

He'd rather go back to the slums and exchange trash talk with uncultured gangsters like Big T.

"Mr. Mayor, I appreciate your kindness."

Leon subtly withdrew his hand, a flawless professional smile plastered on his face.

"But I am..."

"I don't want to go."

Just as Leon was about to brush the matter off with a "we'll talk about it later," a warm arm suddenly reached out from his side and back, wrapping its arm around his shoulder in a very natural and domineering manner.

Victoria Sterling leaned forward slightly, pressing half of her chest against Leon's back without any hesitation. The soft touch was clearly transmitted through her shirt, a gesture that seemed to assert her dominance.

"Mr. Mayor."

"Isn't that a bit unfair of you?"

"Poaching my people right in front of me?"

Mayor Reynolds' smile froze on his face.

His gaze lingered for two seconds on Sterling's hand resting on Lyon's shoulder and on the almost zero-distance physical contact between the two.

As a seasoned politician who had been navigating the political arena for many years, he immediately sensed something was amiss in the air.

This is not the kind of distance that should exist between superiors and subordinates.

"Chief Sterling."

Reynolds' smile faded, his eyes darkening, and he said meaningfully:

"I'm just thinking about the future of young people."

"After all, frontline work is too risky. Talented people like Officer Vance should shine on a broader platform, rather than wasting their lives in some resource-poor branch."

"Yeah?"

Sterling showed no fear whatsoever; she gently rubbed against Leon's back.

"Some people are born lions. It would be a waste to lock them in a cage and keep them as pets."

"Besides, I think the West District Precinct is pretty good."

"Although the budget is a bit tight, and some cars can't even afford gas, at least we can still win battles and provide you, Mr. Mayor, with this great opportunity to shine, right?"

These words were spoken in a sarcastic tone, almost literally throwing the words "You deduct my pay and I still have to clean up your mess" in the mayor's face.

Reynolds' eye twitched.

Looking at Sterling's confident and fearless demeanor, a surge of anger rose within him.

This woman...

Relying on the connections his dead father had left in the police union, he's increasingly disregarding his position as mayor.

She's clearly just a pretty face who got ahead through nepotism, yet her ambition is astonishing.

The air between the two seemed to freeze, the tension so palpable that even passing bodyguards couldn't help but shrink back.

Lyon, caught in the middle, was utterly speechless.

He lowered his eyes, looking at the patterns on the floor as if they held the ultimate secrets of the universe, completely ignoring the soft, delicate body pressed against him behind him and the mayor in front of him.

Immortals fight, mortals suffer.

He could roughly guess some of the political maneuvering behind these two men; it was nothing more than the filthy affairs of power.

"cough……"

As the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, and the mayor was about to retaliate, Lyon finally cleared his throat at the opportune moment, interrupting this war without gunpowder.

He shifted his shoulder slightly, neither pushing Sterling away nor acting overly intimate, but simply said in a helpless tone:

"Gentlemen, regarding my career plans..."

"I think we should talk about it later."

"I'll definitely do it next time."

Lyon pointed to his side:

"My only plan right now is to go back to bed and then find a place to have a good meal. I'm still injured, right?"

This step was provided at just the right time.

Mayor Reynolds took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his anger, and put on a compassionate face for his subordinates.

"Of course, of course. Health is the most important thing."

He nodded, gave Lyon a meaningful look, and then glanced at Sterling:

"We'll talk about that later. Vance, take good care of your injury. The doors of City Hall are always open for you."

After saying that, he didn't linger any longer, turned around and left with his bodyguards, his steps somewhat hurried.

The moment he turned around, Reynolds's face darkened completely.

You refused?

Do you really just want to rest?

impossible.

No rank-and-file patrol officer could resist the temptation of a direct promotion to city hall; it could be considered a leap in social class.

unless……

He thought of Sterling's ambiguous gesture earlier, and his possessive attitude towards his food.

"That bitch..."

Reynolds cursed inwardly.

He didn't think Lyon truly loved his frontline work.

In his view, Sterling must have some kind of leverage over Lyon, or he must have used some improper relationship with a woman to ensnare the kid.

It's even possible that this kid is a trained assassin by the Sterling family.

"Hmph, we'll talk about it later? Fine, Sterling, we'll see."

Reynolds got into the armored car, his eyes cold.

He had no idea that Lyon's rejection of him was neither because he was seduced by Sterling's beauty, nor because he had any leverage over her.

It's simply because the system doesn't give him any points if he goes to work in the city hall office.

If you can't farm points or get stronger, what's the point of playing?

……

The smoking area at the side entrance of Seattle City Hall.

The rain was still drizzling down, and several staff members wearing "FOX News" badges were gathered around a huge satellite broadcasting van, packing up equipment and puffing on cigarettes.

Grant, the slightly overweight male reporter who asked the question earlier, was leaning against the carriage, a cigarette between his fingers, his expression extremely amused.

"That kid is a master."

Grant put the cigarette in his mouth and mumbled something indistinctly.

"An expert? I don't think so."

A young cameraman who looked like he had just started out was winding up cables nearby and retorted with a puzzled expression:

"Boss, didn't he just shut you up?"

"Regarding the budget, he kept going in circles, saying he didn't understand politics. I think he's just scared of the mayor and is trying to smooth things over."