Jimmy locked the car and began to stroll along the street, keeping an eye on his surroundings, aware that this was not a simple task to handle. The key issue was that the clue given by the homeless man was too common; not all Americans are tall, and there were many people within the 170-175 cm range, making it extremely difficult for Jimmy to observe and pinpoint such individuals.

The daytime observation mainly focused on the street environment, but the more important part was at night, as the killer was active then, so Jimmy planned to stay up tonight and try to wait until after midnight to see if there were any opportunities to spot people walking alone.

Jimmy first called Nia, then parked his car in a third-party lot. Long-term parking was very inconvenient on the roadside, and the parking lot was a bit more reassuring.

Jimmy left the parking lot, walked on the main street, bought a cup of coffee from a street vendor and was drinking it as he walked, when suddenly, a Black guy blocked his path, reaching out of his pocket and flicking open a switchblade. Just as Jimmy was about to react, something pressed against his lower back. "Hey, buddy, come inside," the guy in front motioned Jimmy towards a nearby alley.

Damn, it's not even completely dark yet, and you guys are pretty bold, huh? Jimmy hadn't turned around yet, unsure of what was pressed against his lower back; judging by the switchblade held by the Black man in front, it was probably another switchblade.

Just openly pulling out a switchblade, you know this is illegal, right?!

Since the area was rather secluded and there weren't many people around, Jimmy could only turn and walk towards the nearby alley. As he turned, he saw the man behind, another Black guy, also with a knife in hand—but two knives weren't a big issue. He had only walked a few steps into the alley when the Black guy in front impatiently said, "Take out your wallet, quick."

Jimmy slowly turned around, his right hand reaching into his suit. These two guys were clearly not robbing for the first time; they didn't keep their distance from Jimmy, but closed in very closely, only about thirty to forty centimeters away, close enough to stab Jimmy if they reached out with their knives.

Just as Jimmy pulled his wallet from the inner pocket of his jacket and the Black guy reached out to grab it, Jimmy threw his coffee at them. The lukewarm coffee wouldn't burn them, but it definitely disrupted their actions.

As they instinctively dodged backwards, Jimmy grabbed the knife-wielding hand of the Black man in front, twisted it slightly, and chopped at his arm, causing him pain in the reversed joint and making him drop the switchblade. Following up quickly, Jimmy pulled both hands backwards, kicked the man's lower legs, and with a simple move, he pulled the man off balance, his head smashing against the wall.

Just as the Black man originally behind Jimmy avoided the coffee and charged at him, Jimmy had just knocked down the guy in front and hadn't regained his balance yet; he could only extend his left hand to block the knife-wielding right hand and grab the shirt at the chest, squatting and turning, using his shoulder to lift the Black man, directly slamming him to the ground, with the switchblade falling out of his hand.

Two men were not a big problem for Jimmy; if he had known what was behind him exactly, dealing with them on the sidewalk wouldn't have been a big deal.

Both Black men were now on the ground, clearly lacking combat training; just a bump on the head and a fall on their backs deprived them of any combat capability, and now they were twisting and moaning on the ground. Are today's robbers this weak?

Jimmy picked up his wallet, put it back in his pocket, and drew his Glock, pointing it at them. "Don't move." Then he took out his phone and dialed 911—the FBI agent being robbed had already subdued the two robbers. The dispatcher on the other side also seemed surprised, as her voice indicated just how bizarre the situation was.

"Have you lost your minds? Daring to rob just anyone? Do you have a death wish? Huh? Think I'm easy to bully because I'm Asian? Didn't you see I'm wearing a suit? Don't you know what the FBI looks like? Is this how your parents taught you?"

Already in a bad mood and now faced with these two fools, Jimmy, having nothing better to do, verbally lashed out at them, then had them lie down on the ground, hands on their heads, and after a search, found only the two knives; surprisingly, they weren't carrying guns—just two third-rate robbers.

A few minutes later, two police cars stopped outside the alley, and four NYPD patrol officers, two from each side, slowly entered the alley, all with guns drawn. "NYPD, put down your gun." Jimmy was still pointing his gun at the two robbers.

"FBI, don't worry, I called the police." Jimmy put his Glock back in the holster and handed his credentials to the NYPD in front.

The NYPD officer checked Jimmy's credentials, then returned them to him.

Jimmy put away his wallet and said to them, "These guys were robbing me here, and I took them down. You can take them back first."

The NYPD came forward to handcuff them. Jimmy had only brought one pair of handcuffs, and with two men, it was a bit troublesome, which is why he had kept his gun drawn to threaten them.

"Officer, you'll need to come with us," one of the officers told Jimmy.

Jimmy shook his head, "I'm here investigating a murder case; I don't have time to go back with you. Let's record the statement here."

"Wait a minute, I'll contact my supervisor." The officer was about to press his radio but Jimmy interrupted him, "That's not necessary. I'll contact the Detective Bureau. They can handle this faster."

Jimmy immediately called Chuck, "Hey Chuck, are you available?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.