This waiting time was truly torturous, and Jimmy's mind had been running in circles, not knowing how many cycles it had completed before Chris finally stood up and walked over to Jimmy.

Chris, "You go back to the station on emergency standby; I'll stay with the old pal for a while."

Jimmy turned his head and glanced at Vince, "Tell me something, who is this Vince? If Hughes asks, I won't be completely clueless."

Chris remained expressionless, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, "I'll notify Hughes. Just go back."

Jimmy looked at Chris, thought for a moment, and asked, "Are you going to investigate this case? I'll join you."

Chris shook his head, "This is our business. You go back; I'll handle it. That's it."

Having said that, Chris turned around and returned to Vince's side, pulled him up, and took him to the police to be escorted to the Jersey City police station. Jimmy went to the back of Chris's car, took his equipment bag and bullet-proof vest from the trunk, and Chris drove off following the police car ahead to the Jersey City Police Department.

Jimmy watched Chris leave and suddenly realized that he was unfamiliar with everything about Chris. Normally, he hadn't felt this, but now, when something had happened, he felt like an outsider. They had been partners for a while, and it seemed like he had never thought of getting to know his teammate; instead, viewing him more as an instructor guiding him through his work tasks and arrangements.

It was this feeling, Jimmy reflected, ever since coming to the New York office after his FBI academy training, the people around him were constantly changing, and he seemed never to have seriously considered getting to know someone, including Hughes, Ruiz, Peter, and Jones. Apart from meeting them at work, he always wandered around alone, rarely paying any attention to their personal lives, such as their families, hobbies, or even going on vacations together. It seemed that this kind of relationship was insufficient to call them his friends; it was more of a work relationship, a colleague relationship.

Why had this happened? In his previous life, he was very familiar with his comrades, all staunch companions, entrusting their safety to each other, everyone for each other. Why had he seemingly forgotten how to interact with coworkers and friends here?

Jimmy stuffed the bullet-proof vest into his equipment bag, called a taxi, and returned to Federal Square, sitting in his office, still pondering the thoughts that had just sprung up.

Reflecting on his over three years in this world, the many people he had come across, the ones he really got to know were only Cage and James from his county police days, his first friend, the homeless Jerry, whom he came to know a bit about only when his daughter was in trouble. Before that, besides occasionally bringing him stuff and chatting, he never really knew much about him.

He knew very little about others in the county police too, like Deputy Chief Martin and assistant Amy, despite having many dealings with them. Noah, the first person to teach him police skills, had an even lesser relationship with him compared to Cage.

Then there was Justin; ever since coming to New York, his relationship with Justin had been changing continuously, until after James was shot and he refused Justin's request for intelligence sharing, from which point there was barely any contact.

Tool person, yes, Jimmy thought back on the people he had met over these three years, realizing he hadn't treated them as true friends or shown concern, but merely as fellow travelers on the road, like driving a long-haul truck on Highway 50, occasionally giving someone a lift, dropping them off at their stop then continuing alone.

He had bought a house, thinking it would be his home, but in reality, inside, he had never really considered that house his home and, despite having been reborn in this world, he still hadn't regarded this world as his own; it felt as if he was playing a game, treating the world like an RPG game. He was merely a visitor, here to play and complete quests, the others merely NPCs, interacting for tasks but never paying attention to their lives beyond these interactions.

Alone in the office, his mind wandered aimlessly; various faces appeared and disappeared in his mind, related incidents also flashed by, but he couldn't grasp the main point; Jimmy's mind was a mess.

Jimmy didn't know how much time had passed when his stomach started growling. He glanced to see if Chris had returned yet, but of course, he hadn't—and he couldn't. Picking up his jacket, Jimmy stood up and left the office, heading straight to Hughes's office. No matter what happened later, he thought he should at least discuss Chris's situation with Hughes, even though Chris said he would call. Still, he felt he needed to do something on his own.

Jimmy knocked on Hughes's door and entered.

Jimmy, "Hughes, Chris has gone to Jersey City."

Hughes nodded, "I know. He might not return for a few days. You need to keep an eye on things on your end."

Jimmy, "Can I know what happened there? Who is Vince?"

Hughes waved his hand, "It's all old-generation stuff, nothing to do with you. You can't handle it anyway, just keep an eye on his house. Go back now."

Unsatisfied, Jimmy walked directly to face Hughes, "I just want to know who Vince is. I'm just concerned about Chris. I'm not meddling with the case, but I want to know if Chris might be in danger."

Hughes, looking at the stubborn Jimmy, sighed, "Vince was Chris's partner a long time ago, and he's been retired for three years now. Okay, Chris will handle things. Keeping an eye on his house is the best support you can provide."

Jimmy, seeing that Hughes truly didn't want to say more, nodded and left Hughes's office. It seemed that this was indeed an old generation's issue. Whether it was Chris or Hughes, they both straightforwardly refused to let Jimmy get involved. Vince must be hiding something else—if it were just a former FBI agent or Chris's former partner, it definitely shouldn't warrant such responses.

Jimmy went downstairs, bought two tacos from a food cart to curb his hunger, and returned to the office to continue his duty. After work, he headed straight home. Dinner was still prepared by himself. Ever since he bought the house, he found himself cooking more and more.

The events surrounding Chris today threw Jimmy into confusion. It was time to think about what to do in the future. This was the real world, not a game, and although staying alive was important, real life was not just about surviving. Since he was to treat this real world as his home, he first needed to fully integrate himself into it, starting with making some friends. Of course, these friends weren't the kind one meets over meals or drinks.

The next day, Jimmy came to the office with a backpack, took care of his own affairs, and then took out what was in the backpack. He had actually been thinking of getting a tea set after having tea with psychologist Mary, and after buying his house, he indeed bought a simple tea set, but usually had no time to use it, opting for tea directly in a glass of hot water instead.

Now, being alone in the office, he decided to use the tea set, well, just to give it a try if the tea brewed well, he would invite others to have a taste.

While he wanted to make friends, he couldn't just go over and ask about their situations directly—that would be too deliberate and give a bad impression. It was better to think of more reasons to gather with everyone, taking it slow and steady.

Jimmy knew everyone had their own issues, especially Ruiz; he noticed his weary spirit on several occasions. If it weren't for his restricted status, he would have eradicated the root of Ruiz's troubles himself. Sometimes, holding a gun naturally changes one's mentality; with greater power comes greater destructiveness, and if not for his strong self-control, Jimmy would have acted long ago.

For small gangs in the city, Jimmy's capabilities were overwhelming. In an open field without cover, he might get suppressed, unable to move, but in an urban setting with its confined spaces, possessing x-ray vision and invincible close-range sharpshooting, Jimmy could definitely make a clean sweep of a dozen or twenty men, as long as he did not walk directly into the center of their encirclement.

Well, no need to think so much now—just brew the tea, then invite them over to relax and enjoy it.

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