Little Jack let out a soft sigh. “Is this guy really my biological brother?”

“Even though I don’t want to admit it either, that’s the truth.”

Little Jack showed a maturity beyond his years. “Yeah, that’s the saddest part.”

Linda Smith pointed a shovel at Little Jack. “Jack Johnson, put your mind to the right things. If you don’t get above a B this time, you can say goodbye to your game console in your next life.”

……

Luke Johnson lived in a middle-class neighborhood with a nice environment.

Their house was one of the smaller ones in the community, with a yard of only twenty or thirty square meters. To the east was a green lawn, to the west a garage, and in front of the garage was a patch of concrete.

A ‘muscular’ black motorcycle was parked there—a 2021 Harley Fat Boy.

Schwarzenegger rode a Harley Fat Boy in the movie “Terminator II.”

Luke Johnson took off the bandage on his head; it was completely useless.

He put on his helmet, straddled the motorcycle, shifted into first gear, and gently twisted the throttle, trying to keep the roar of the engine as quiet as possible.

He definitely didn’t want to end up sleeping on the street.

The motorcycle slowly entered the community road. The farther he got from home, the higher the gear, the faster the speed.

“Vroom vroom…”

The feeling of riding a Harley—solid!

The bike was heavy, the seat low. It felt more like driving than riding.

The scenery along the highways of Los Angeles was beautiful. On one side was the vast, blue Pacific Ocean; on the other, steep cliffs and mountains. Many people came here just for a road trip.

Of course, no matter how beautiful the road, there was always the same problem: traffic jams.

Luke Johnson had no choice but to stop and wait.

Next to him was a red convertible. Inside, a brown-haired woman was touching up her makeup in the mirror.

She was very attractive, wearing a wine-red crop top, her ample chest drawing plenty of attention.

Luke Johnson took off his helmet and waved. “Hey, beautiful, sorry to bother you.”

The brown-haired woman pressed her red lips together, glanced at Luke Johnson, and said coolly, “I already have a boyfriend.”

Luke Johnson smiled. “Okay, I just wanted to tell you your tire is flat.”

The brown-haired woman put down her lipstick and looked down—the front tire was indeed flat.

She looked back at Luke Johnson and managed a smile. “Sir, could you help me change it? There’s a spare in the car.”

At that moment, traffic started moving again up ahead.

“I’m in a hurry. Ask your boyfriend to help.”

Luke Johnson twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle roared away…

Chapter 2: Colleagues

The Los Angeles Police Department has 21 districts, which are divided by region into four command areas, called divisions.

Central Division, South Division, West Division, and Canyon Division.

In addition, there are two extra divisions: the Detective Bureau and the Special Operations Bureau.

The Detective Bureau is responsible for investigating criminal cases, somewhat similar to the Criminal Investigation Division of a municipal public security bureau in China, except the Detective Bureau is more independent.

Luke Johnson is a detective in the Detective Bureau’s “Robbery-Homicide Division.”

Commonly known as the Major Crimes Unit.

“Vroom vroom…”

A black Harley motorcycle pulled into the Detective Bureau.

Luke Johnson took off his helmet and looked at the Detective Bureau building, feeling a bit complicated.

Chinese police and Los Angeles police are two completely different concepts, and the change in identity isn’t easy.

In China, being a police officer means honor and a secure job for life. Luke Johnson was part of that group and felt a strong sense of belonging.

In Los Angeles, being a cop is just a job. The pay is good, but you have to face the risk of getting shot.

Luke Johnson wasn’t prepared to sacrifice himself for the citizens of Los Angeles.

For him, it would take some time to fully integrate into this city.

At 8:59 a.m., Luke Johnson stepped into the Robbery-Homicide Division’s Team One office.

The office was divided into five areas: the workspace, lounge, conference room, break room, and the captain’s office.

Luke Johnson walked through the workspace piled high with files to his own desk in the southwest corner, keeping a low profile, but still drawing his colleagues’ attention.

“Hey, the superstar who always makes a grand entrance—right on the dot.” A balding white man in his thirties pointed at the clock on the wall.

Luke Johnson shot him the finger.

If you want to survive in the LAPD, you can be a jerk, but you can’t be a pushover.

“Creak…”

The Captain's Office door opened, and a middle-aged white woman with black-rimmed glasses came out, a stack of files under her right arm. “Everyone, meeting in the conference room.”

Susan Smith, captain of Team One, Robbery-Homicide Division.

Ever since Luke Johnson transferred to the LAPD, he’d never seen her smile—her face was always serious.

Luke Johnson didn’t like her much, which was one of the few things he and the other team members agreed on.

Luke Johnson was the last to enter the conference room, taking a seat at the end of the table.

Susan Smith placed the files on the table and pulled over the whiteboard, on which was written in large letters: “Taser Robbery Case.”

“Everyone, since February 18th, there have been two robberies in Los Angeles, both on Friday nights, both involving a Taser.

The two cases have many similarities and were likely committed by the same suspect.

Vincent Johnson, deputy captain, give us an update on the investigation.”