There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

The main problem I'm facing is: who would keep two leopards at home?

Is this a cough syrup factory? I've never heard of MGM Studios keeping lions.

Speaking of cough syrup, many people didn't notice that in the advertisement, the one chasing people at the beginning is a cheetah, but the one who drinks the cough syrup turns into a leopard, and the one standing next to a beautiful woman after drinking it turns back into a cheetah!

As we all know, leopards belong to the Pantherinae subfamily, while cheetahs belong to the Felinae subfamily. The two are so different that they are reproductively isolated and belong to two completely different species!

At this point, some might think the advertisement is on the first level, while the scrutiny is on the second. But is this really a basic error in advertising?

The advertisement, seemingly a fallacy, actually carries a deeper meaning. It depicts a cat that accidentally grew too big—a cheetah meows, while a true leopard roars. This difference illustrates that the meowing cheetah, during a chase, caught a cold and coughed due to strong winds, turning into a roar. However, after drinking cough syrup, it recovered and was able to meow again!

So the microscopes are in the second layer, and the cough syrup is in the atmosphere!

...Never mind, I can't make this up anymore. Just remember to send me the money, cough syrup manufacturer.

Theoretically, it's just a cat that's grown too big. When I waved, it jumped out of the bushes, snuggled into my arms, greeted me affectionately, and even meowed and purred loudly. The feel of petting it was amazing. If you have the chance, you should definitely get one!

As I petted the cats, I was worried. Although these two were cute in front of me, they had a bad temper when they bit people. If I let them run wild in the woods, who knows, one day when I woke up and opened the door, they would bring back some strange things like motionless Sebala, Muchi, or Thomas. It's not a problem if they bring them back, but what if they accidentally get an upset stomach?

To prevent serious crimes from happening in my home, as the sheriff, I need to find them a place where I can stay without worry...

Hmm... I don't know if this method will work...

…………

"Marcus, have you seen Gray? Didn't he come back with you?"

Old Sebala's slurred voice came from the ranch gate, and you could tell he was drunk again just by looking at his swaying, drunken shadow under the streetlights.

Speaking of Gray, he disappeared around noon with his weird bandages on, leaving me wondering if he'd been living a wild life in the tribe for too long and couldn't adapt to town life, so he chose to go into hiding.

Wait a minute, this plot...

Years of tribal warfare have left Gray unable to reintegrate into society. Returning to his hometown, he faces constant criticism and unreasonable accusations from the drunkard Sebala. Finally, he can't take it anymore. He will stand up against the drunkard's provocations and the horde of drunkards he's summoned. Gray will use his hunting skills, honed on the plains, to fight this group—no one, no law, no weapon can stop him except his respected Sheriff Marcus. Tune in tonight at 8 PM for the classic action film *First Drop*!

I continued with my work, casually replying, "Huh? Gray hasn't gone home yet? He's not here with me either."

Upon hearing my reply, old Sebala mumbled incomprehensible drunken words and staggered onward into the ranch. "Marcus, I heard you went on a trip. Did you bring back any souvenirs for your good neighbors?"

The old man shamelessly touts himself as a good neighbor in Mineral Town. Spider-Man, the good neighbor in New York, not only has Aunt May who is getting younger and younger, Uncle Ben whose role is getting smaller and smaller, but also Tony's father who is getting richer and richer. What can an old drunkard like you compare to him?

I said irritably, "All you brought back was a portable reactor to power the ranch! You can ride that bicycle back yourself; it might cool down your alcohol-induced brain while you're at it!"

Old Sebala's white beard twitched slightly: "Portable reactor? Those things, along with nuclear fusion batteries, are goods subject to federal embargo!"

Of course I know that! As a second-generation product of miniaturized reactors, nuclear fusion batteries are smaller and more powerful. They are also well-known military supplies in space, so the government naturally imposes an embargo on them.

But the problem is...

"An embargo... Do you think someone like me, who was airdropped here, would be afraid of an embargo? Or do you think Harris, who was on the wanted list yesterday, would care about an embargo?"

When Harris told me that a certain faction was selling self-made power mechs on the Stargate Marketplace, my first thought was, "I'm not fixing the toilets in Tenpine Manor anymore!" And where is the Brotherhood of Steel's "Pridwin"?!

However, Harris explicitly warned me that this item was a prohibited substance jointly controlled by the Covenant and the Earth Federation government, and that I would be immediately imprisoned if discovered, so I gave up the idea of ​​skirting the law.

Sebala thought for a moment, reeking of alcohol, and said, "That's true," before moving closer to me and asking curiously, "Marcus, what are you doing? Why are you painting in the middle of the night?"

I finished the last stroke, hid the natural paint I had mixed behind my back, and proudly introduced my masterpiece, saying with satisfaction, "You're seeing things! I was clearly grooming a dog! Look, this is my newly acquired police dog! Isn't it majestic!"

"police dog?"

Old Sebala was clearly drunk and his eyesight was failing him. He blinked hard to make out what was happening, but to no avail. So he simply squatted down and began to feel around at the animal in front of him.

"Hmm... its forelegs are long and its muscles are well-proportioned, it's definitely a good police dog!"

I said happily, "You know what you're doing! From now on, I'll take them with me when I patrol the town. I guarantee they'll bring a fresh start to the town's security! If I find any guy abusing his grandson, drunkard causing trouble, or selling counterfeit batteries, these two will bite him to death."

Sebala, his scalp tingling, said, "Aren't they all talking about me?! Then just kill me already!"

I rubbed my hands together, eager to try, and said, "Since you've made this request, I won't argue with it..."

If you don't want to die, get out of here! These two "police dogs" haven't finished their on-duty training yet. If they bite me to death, I won't be responsible!

"No, no, no! I didn't say anything!" Sebala quickly denied, but showed no intention of leaving. Instead, he continued to grope the police dog from its feet up. "Its waist is slender and flexible, its joints are high, and its spine is tightly interlocked like a spring... Could it be an ancient greyhound?"

I said with dissatisfaction, "This breed is much rarer than a greyhound... Hurry up and leave after you've petted it!"

Stop touching it, it's about to get all prickly!

“This kind of greyhound is already rare, and this is even rarer? Could it be a royal breed with a precious bloodline? There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize it…” Sebala clicked her tongue in amazement as she continued to examine it, but she also had some questions. “However, its fur is a bit stiff and rough. It needs to eat less salty food and get more sun.”

“They’re sunbathing all day long; they’re always sunbathing on the roof. I can’t control things with high salt content. They’ve almost eaten all the salted salmon I had at home, and I doubt they’ll change their ways anytime soon. Pull your hand back!” I said.

Unaware that she had almost put her hand in their mouths, Sebala professionally explored them and exclaimed, "Marcus, your police dogs are quite friendly!"

I calmed the two "police dogs" whose fur had been ruffled from being petted, and looked at the fangs that were only two centimeters away from Sebala's eyes, saying, "They're...not bad...they just seem to like people a little..."

Actually, they like to eat people, and there's nothing wrong with that, right?

"It's good that they like people; that's a good habit for police dogs! Most greyhounds don't have the instinct to guard the house or protect their owners, and they don't like to bark or attack strangers, which is a big problem..."

"Be careful!"

"Hehe, it's alright. I was an animal taming expert back in the day!"

Clearly sensing the animals' commotion, Sebala assumed the "police dogs" were playing with him and chuckled as he stroked their heads, while asking in bewilderment, "Hmm? Why are their faces so short!"

"It got smashed flat from hitting the wall!"

"Why are those ears so small and round?"

"The former owner, Van Gogh, cut it!"

"Wait a minute! Those claws are way too sharp!"

"This is made of Adamantium!"

"Marcus, why isn't your dog barking?"

"It will bark, of course it will!"

I gestured to the "hunting dogs" with my eyes to make a sound, but after they opened their mouths and held back for a long time, they only managed to utter a strange "gurgling" sound.

"Your voice sounds off, are you sick...?"

Sebala opened his hazy, drunken eyes and struggled to see the scene before him. One glance nearly made him lose his mind. He saw me gripping two restless, large gray cats tightly, their claws and fangs just a hair's breadth from his throat.

“Marcus, what… what are these things! Get them away from me!” Sebala cried out.

I said helplessly, "Police dogs. If you keep refusing to believe me, I'll just have to let them prove it themselves..."

"Ahhh! Don't let go! You're clearly trying to silence me!"

Chapter 541 Betting My Career

I woke up in the early morning.

The familiar ceiling, the familiar bed, no tall grass beneath me, no howling sandstorms outside the window, the temperature of 30 degrees Celsius and the humidity of moderate humidity—it was a good day.

Full of energy, I kicked aside the leopard blocking my way at the head of the bed, excitedly pushed open the door, and strolled along the pasture road in the morning light.

Before the door could be closed, two gray-painted police leopards rolled up and rushed out of the house, following me for a while in a seemingly respectable manner—unfortunately, they couldn't shake their habit of climbing trees, and soon they darted onto the roof to stretch.

Where should we put the magical creatures?

Newt Scamander has personally proven to us that magical creatures must be carried in a suitcase.

I also think that no matter how you handle them, it's not as reassuring as having them by your side. With me watching over them, there's absolutely no chance of anything going wrong, as long as I remember to feed them every day. After the townspeople get used to them for a while, these two strange-looking police leopards should be fine, right...?

I originally wanted to paint these two cheetahs red and blue warning colors to cover up their original striking spots.

For example, when encountering bad guys, other police chiefs would drive their police cars, step on the gas, flash their red and blue lights, and blare their horns as they chase after the criminals; but I only need to whistle from the spot, release my red and blue police leopards, and the leopards will meow as they chase after the criminals...

It's a pity that the two colors of dye are hard to find, otherwise this scene would be amazing!

I led them to the center of the ranch and solemnly lectured them: "Remember, as police leopards, you must learn to lie in wait and stealthily approach the criminal before striking to subdue the enemy! Your basic skills are decent, but you lack experience, so follow my instructions first..."

I put my finger to my lips and gestured to them, "From now on, when I whistle like this, you hide! When I whistle again, you reappear! Understand?"

Two police leopards: (^?ェ?^)*2

"Very well, it seems you don't understand at all... I might as well let you be undercover agents for three years first..."

In response, I had no choice but to risk being condemned by leopard lovers and resort to Pavlov's training method: I would whistle once and kick them into the roadside bushes, and then whistle again and pull them out.

After repeating this process several times, they gradually learned my intention and began to move away from me when the whistle sounded, but they still couldn't disappear instantly.

I've summarized my experience and I feel that the problem is that the reflection of sound is not intuitive enough, so we should add the assistance of body movements!

Body movements are concealed, suitable for covert operations; whistle signals are clear, making it easy to summon the police leopards. If they master both of these skills, I think the police leopards will be ready to go out into the wild.

So I added training movements of raising and pressing hands, waving my arms like doing gymnastics, directing them back and forth among the roadside bushes, until I heard two consecutive comical arpeggios.

"System notification: Cheetah 1 training successful (success rate 71%), current progress: taming skill 5/5, next step is to train attack skill."

"System notification: Cheetah 2 training successful (success rate 71%), current progress: taming skill 5/5, next step is to train attack skill."

The first step was a success! My synchronization rate with the police leopards has increased!

However, animals don't have the intelligence to remember everything they see, and they certainly can't easily engrave useless information into their DNA and carry it into the next life like I can! So, the next step is to train them periodically to prevent their skills from deteriorating.

"Let's go! I'll take you to the beach for training!"

I took a basket and a fishing rod and headed out of the ranch, intending to continue training the soon-to-be-appointed police leopard on the beach.

I walked along the path, periodically testing their reaction speed with whistles and gestures.

I:

((?(???)?))=>((?(???)?))

Police Leopard:

-==((((^?ェ?^)ノ(I slipped away!)

I:

((?(???)?))=>((?(???)?))

Police Leopard:

ヘ(^?ェ?^))))Σ≡=─（I'm back!）

...What's with the "it's kind of funny" thing?

As I strolled along, I passed by Sebala's blacksmith shop and gradually approached Lady Lilia's chicken farm. Suddenly, I heard the creaking of a door opening and closing and clear footsteps; it seemed someone was about to come out of the chicken farm…