Putting on an act for a moment, Eric Foster knew that the brute was also one of Emily Brooks's admirers, and was deliberately provoking Michael Bolton, making him frown and glare. If it weren't for Discipline and the two recruiters being present, he probably would have chased after Eric Foster for another fight. The two of them rushed into the classroom and, as usual, sat in the corner of the last row. This pure-hearted brute, Michael Bolton, kept glancing at Emily Brooks from time to time, and honestly, he did look a bit heartbroken. But when he saw her whispering with Adam Parker, he sighed in frustration. This behavior was noticed by Eric Foster, Mouse, and Ethan, and naturally, the three of them snickered quietly.

“Classmates, this afternoon I already spoke with your Chief Instructor. Everyone who signed up will gather to watch several case-solving videos of major crimes. You’re not just watching—you’ll each write a reflection tonight after viewing. There are no requirements, just write whatever you want. You can discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the investigative methods, analyze from a criminal psychology perspective, or focus on prevention and control. Stand up and follow Chief Grant to the multimedia room. Who’s the class monitor? Lead the group... Those who didn’t sign up, stay in the classroom.”

As soon as he entered, Paul Carter got straight to the point. The sound of shuffling footsteps followed, and in the blink of an eye, most of the class had left, with some even glancing back smugly as they walked out. Mouse was dumbfounded, suddenly feeling awkward standing out from the crowd, and complained to Eric Foster, “See? I told you to go with the flow, but you insisted on being different. Now they’ll say we lack awareness and ambition again.”

“Your awareness is all talk—would you die if you kept your mouth shut?” Eric Foster replied irritably. These two were fine in every way except for their chattiness. Ethan was about to speak, but Eric Foster was quick—he tore off a piece of paper, crumpled it, and stuffed it right into Ethan's mouth.

“Come on, everyone, sit up front.”

Paul Carter saw off his colleagues and was left alone. The remaining eleven students who hadn’t signed up seemed a bit reluctant but were called to sit in the front row. Paul Carter glanced over them—two girls, nine boys, and among them was the boy who had left such a strange impression on him. He had noticed the little move of stuffing someone’s mouth with paper just now and instinctively felt this guy was a troublemaker. Now that he was sitting closer and observing, even with his seasoned detective’s eye, he couldn’t quite describe the boy’s features—maybe because there were no features to describe: crew cut, average height, eyebrows neither thick nor thin, eyes neither big nor small, nose neither high nor low—nothing distinctive at all. Unlike the two beside him, who both had a bit of baby fat and looked amusing.

“This student, can you do me a favor?” Paul Carter played a little trick, reached into his pocket, took out a room card, and handed it to the standing Eric Foster, saying, “Go to the guesthouse, room 201, and fetch my bag... Sorry to trouble you.”

“No problem.” Eric Foster took the room card, eager to get out.

As soon as he left, Old Carter started asking questions. The first was a girl; he looked at the list and asked, “You’re Grace Howard, right? I’m curious—why didn’t you sign up? Can you tell me the real reason?”

“My family already arranged a job for me. I’m their only daughter, and my parents don’t want me to go too far away,” Grace Howard answered honestly.

“Good, you have your own ideas. Your expertise in trace evidence will definitely be useful locally.” Paul Carter praised her, making Grace Howard very happy—she hadn’t expected to be commended by a superior for this.

With that precedent, the rest was easy. Four were children of police officers, already guaranteed jobs, and three others already had their futures decided. Whatever the reason, Old Carter praised each one—not for having their own ideas, then for having a promising future. Mouse and Ethan were a bit dumbfounded. Wasn’t this supposed to be about selecting elites? Why was he so interested in those who weren’t, and praising them so much, almost to the point of overdoing it?

Finally, it was their turn. Paul Carter changed seats and sat with Mouse, kindly asking, “Samuel Reed, what about you? Have you already decided your future path?”

“No, I haven’t,” Mouse shook his head.

“Then why give up this opportunity?” Paul Carter asked.

“Well...” Mouse hesitated.

“Oh, there’s something you can’t say. Then I won’t ask.” Paul Carter said generously, and this brush-off made Mouse feel a bit disappointed. But unexpectedly, Paul Carter continued, “I just looked at your detailed personal file. Your ranking in professional subjects is 91st, and in physical fitness and marksmanship, you’re even lower.”

Seeing Paul Carter's smiling eyes, Mouse couldn’t keep a straight face and said awkwardly, “Mr. Carter, since you already know, there’s no need to say it out loud, is there?”

A few classmates chuckled. Mediocre in his major, often failing physical tests, Mouse had long gotten used to being at the bottom of the department. But Paul Carter didn’t laugh; instead, he said seriously, “You’re wrong. The more shortcomings you have, the more hidden strengths you possess. As the saying goes, everyone has their own value—each has their strengths and weaknesses. You definitely have extraordinary strengths; you just haven’t discovered them yet.”

“Ow.” Mouse straightened up as if encouraged, gratefully saying, “Mr. Carter, if you were my teacher, maybe I’d already be an elite.”

The classmates laughed, and Paul Carter kindly put his arm around Mouse, saying, “Elites among detectives aren’t just those who study well, shoot accurately, or are physically strong. Back in my day, I wasn’t a good student, even got disciplined, and almost got kicked out of the police force.”

“Really? No way!” Ethan didn’t believe it.