David Smith glanced up and down at the boss: "You'd better not be lying..."

　　Watching the two leave the store, the boss let out a sigh of relief and muttered under his breath, "fuck! Two @#￥％..."

　　……

　　Inside the black Dodge Challenger.

　　David Smith chuckled, "Sting operation, that's what you call using your brain? That's so old school. My grandpa used to pull that trick when he was a cop."

　　Luke Johnson laughed, "Human history is just endless repetition. There's no such thing as new or old—what matters is how it's used, and by whom."

　　"Planning to switch to philosophy now?"

　　"Yeah, you caught me. From now on, call me Professor Luke Johnson."

　　"Come on, you'd better focus more on the case." David Smith rolled his eyes. "I got Tony Williams's address from Matthew Johnson. Should we go pay him a visit? Maybe this guy is the suspect in the 'Taser Robbery Case.'"

　　"Grrr..."

　　Luke Johnson's stomach growled. "I suggest we eat first."

　　"Are you serious?"

　　"Of course. I don't want to work on an empty stomach." In his previous life, Luke Johnson often skipped meals for work, which gave him stomach problems at a young age.

　　Now that he had a second chance, he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

　　The two went to a Mexican restaurant. Luke Johnson ordered a beef burrito, a chicken burrito, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.

　　The burritos were made with corn tortillas, golden and appetizing, filled with shredded purple cabbage, carrots, lettuce, grilled chicken or beef, topped with salad dressing or sweet chili sauce. One bite was pure happiness.

　　It was a bit like the Chinese "everything-in-a-pancake," except here they gave you way more meat, so it was much more filling.

　　Very satisfying.

　　After lunch, Luke Johnson felt a bit sleepy and got into the passenger seat.

　　David Smith looked exasperated and had no choice but to drive.

　　"If I were the captain, I'd use you as an example too."

　　Luke Johnson didn't even lift his eyelids. "That's exactly what I was going to say."

　　David Smith started the car. "With your work attitude, I doubt you'll ever get promoted to captain in this lifetime."

　　"David Smith, the world isn't fair. Hard work alone doesn't guarantee success."

　　"Don't lecture me like some old silver-haired guy. You're not even older than me."

　　"You're right. From now on, I'll count on you to have my back. I'm going to nap—wake me up when we get there." Luke Johnson reclined his seat.

　　David Smith shook his head and drove toward Tony Williams's address.

　　Luke Johnson dozed for over ten minutes, and as the ride got bumpier, he sat up and looked out the window. The scenery on the street had changed dramatically.

　　The streets were dirtier and older, the sidewalks crowded with colorful tents, homeless people everywhere, and a noticeably higher proportion of Black and Hispanic residents.

　　Luke Johnson asked, "Looks like the suspect isn't doing too well."

　　"If he was, he wouldn't be robbing people. There are a lot of drug users around here. My guess is this guy's probably an addict." David Smith sighed, frowning.

　　"You seem to know the area pretty well."

　　"I wish I didn't." David Smith turned on the right blinker and pulled over. "We're here."

　　Luke Johnson checked his sidearm—a Glock pistol, seventeen-round magazine, lightweight, good grip, no external safety, so he could fire immediately in an emergency.

　　David Smith pulled out a SUB-2000 carbine, looking disdainful. "Hey, boy, you should get yourself a big gun."

　　Luke Johnson patted his inner thigh and grinned. "I've already got one."

　　David Smith looked speechless.

　　They walked up to a run-down wooden house, pushed open the broken picket fence, and found the yard overgrown with weeds and cluttered with junk.

　　David Smith made a hand gesture, signaling Luke Johnson to cover the back door.

　　Luke Johnson held his gun in both hands, circled to the back door, and peered through the glass, but saw no sign of anyone inside.

　　At that moment, David Smith's knocking came from the front yard: "Knock knock..."

　　No response.

　　"Knock knock..."

　　Another round of urgent knocking.

　　David Smith called out, "Hey, Tony Williams, open up! I know you're home."

　　Still no response from inside.

　　Luke Johnson could hear everything from the back—if anyone was inside, there was no way they hadn't heard.

　　The house was single-story and not large. Looking through the windows, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

　　The suspect was either not home or hiding somewhere inside.

　　Luke Johnson returned to the front yard. "David Smith, the suspect probably already ran."

　　David Smith was silent for a moment, then made a shushing gesture. "I think I heard something inside... Yeah, sounded like someone calling for help."

　　Luke Johnson had a bad feeling. "What are you up to now?"

　　"I heard someone calling for help inside. As cops, it's our duty and right to check it out." As soon as David Smith finished, he kicked the door open with a bang: "Bang!"

　　"LAPD!"

Chapter 12: The Street Racers

　　"FUCK!"

　　Luke Johnson had the urge to shoot this bastard.

　　Other people screw over their dads—he screws over his partner.

　　Luke Johnson made up his mind: when he got back, he was definitely switching partners.

　　But for now, he had no choice but to cover him.

　　David Smith rushed in first, searching the left side. "Clear."