No matter what, the serial taxi driver murder case was kind of wrapped up, and the remaining matters weren't really Jimmy's concern anymore.

Jimmy also got Hughes's approval and was given some time off—shoot, Hughes didn't mention how many days off. Jimmy didn't go back to ask; after all, a break comes first.

The impromptu vacation caught Jimmy a little off guard; he had no plans whatsoever, and as he left the office, he was still pondering how to spend this time.

After inviting Nia out for coffee, Jimmy asked if she had any vacation days available.

Nia: "Why do you ask?"

Jimmy shrugged: "The case is closed. Hughes gave me a little time off. Wanna go out and have some fun together?"

Nia: "Where do you want to go?"

Jimmy: "How about Las Vegas?"

Nia: "I don't mind, but... I just had a vacation recently, you know, with that missing person case."

Jimmy was severely annoyed; it's really frustrating when their time off can never seem to align.

Jimmy: "How about... I talk to Chuck?"

Nia said with a smile: "Of course, you can try."

True to his word, Jimmy went with Nia back to the police station. After verbally agreeing to an unfair treaty, Chuck finally relented and gave Nia a three-day leave.

Jimmy was discontented. All this effort for just a weekend? Chuck totally had the attitude of a pig not fearing scalding water, just three days—take it or leave it.

Jimmy couldn't do anything about it; three days it was. He found Nia, told her the result, and then the two of them embarked on an impromptu trip. Nia went home to change clothes and grab her suitcase, while Jimmy's preparations were even simpler. He had two cases specifically packed for business trips, ready in advance for when he had to travel for cases.

That was a lingering effect from being dispatched to Dallas for two months. For some reason, Jimmy's business trip schedule was always unpredictable. To avoid the hassle of shopping for clothes on location, he kept two suitcases under his wardrobe at home and would update the variety of clothes inside while doing house chores.

Jimmy's wardrobe was primarily divided into two parts: the upper rack held his work suits in black and more casual handmade suits on either side. The handmade suits were not all black but also brown and gray, perfectly paired with the neatly folded and ironed shirts below, basically ensuring he could always find suitable attire for going out.

This trip was for leisure, so Jimmy only took one black handmade suit, along with a few casual clothes and jeans, topped off with his cowboy hat, and headed out. Of course, he had to bring his guns; as an FBI agent, carrying two guns was a sign of professional respect. The 1875 was put back in the safe, as those two guns weren't registered and could cause problems.

Picking up Nia, who'd already changed into casual clothing, they headed straight for Kennedy Airport. They bought tickets on the spot, checked in their identities, and prepared to fly to Las Vegas—a place Jimmy had long wanted to visit but never had the chance. It was also a place he had thought of using his skills to make money.

Now, Jimmy didn't need to resort to such means. He had two accountants managing his business in the little rock city and his tax issues in New York. With Justin having adjusted the company's structure, he didn't need to concern himself with the company affairs, merely occasionally signing some authorization agreements—over a million dollars in authorization fees a year was enough for his expenses.

Jimmy was very familiar with the process of bringing a gun on a plane by now, but this was Nia's first time witnessing it. As an NYPD officer, she'd never had the experience of taking a gun on a plane, mainly because she hadn't been involved in any special NYPD missions. If there were tasks like prisoner escorts, it'd be possible to bring a gun on the plane, though it still required some procedures.

After leaving the service counter, Jimmy and Nia headed to the waiting room, where Nia took the opportunity to learn a bit about the small privileges of FBI agents.

Jimmy: "It's not just me who has a gun on the plane. In theory, all Federation agents are allowed to carry guns on planes, like Court Police, DEA agents, ATF agents, etc. Oh, and air marshals too, though I'm not sure if there's one on our flight. They're always undercover, so you can't tell them apart."

Nia also looked around the waiting room; there were a lot of people, clearly not the best time to discern anyone specific.

Watching Nia glance around, Jimmy couldn't help laughing: "Want to try and see if you can spot the real air marshal?"

Nia turned to Jimmy: "If I find them, how will you know I'm right?"

Jimmy wrapped an arm around Nia's shoulders, "Don't worry, I'll definitely be able to recognize them."

Jimmy's eyesight wasn't bad; trained or not, he could spot a few clues. If all else failed, he could cheat—a peek with Heart Eye to see who was carrying a gun probably still had a shot.

After the upgrade, Heart Eye made the vague black and grey silhouettes much clearer than before. The smoky outlines had gradually become more akin to their real shapes, not as accurate as with the naked eye, but good enough for identifying forms.

Jimmy had booked first-class tickets, and as they sat in the front, Nia began observing the people around them after the plane took off. It was quite a fun game, determining whether someone was an air marshal or another federal agency agent based on their expressions and behaviors—a real test of observation skills and experience.

Jimmy had already scanned the area: there were definitely no air marshals in first class, but there was someone like himself with a holster and gun on their belt. Judging by the shape, it seemed to be a Glock. The guy's posture indicated he was an agent rather than an air marshal; it was just a question of which agency he was with.

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