"It's destined to be an uneasy day today," Jimmy thought, as he prepared to leave early in the afternoon. His phone rang. He glanced at it and picked it up, "Speak."

"Mr. Yang, is this a convenient time?" Charon's voice came through, devoid of any particular emotion, but then again, he usually spoke like that.

Jimmy: "In 15 minutes."

Charon: "Alright, I'll call back later."

Jimmy put away his phone, glancing at the time, and sat back down. This was unusual; Charon typically didn't call during the day.

When the end of the workday arrived, Jimmy went to the parking lot and drove away from Federal Square. The phone rang punctually, "Mr. Yang, is this a good time now?"

Jimmy: "Yeah, go ahead."

Charon: "We've just received news that someone has paid to purchase your intelligence. The manager asked me to remind you."

Jimmy: "Can I know who it is?"

Charon: "Sorry, I don't think so."

Jimmy: "Thanks. I'll keep an eye out."

Charon: "Goodbye, sir."

Jimmy hung up the call and considered while driving. It seemed that whoever could purchase his intelligence through hotel channels definitely wasn't Karaway or Prosecutor Maxwell. It had to be Curtis. Even in prison, he could buy intelligence through people on the outside. This guy had quite a bit of clout.

As for going to the hotel in person for intelligence, Jimmy couldn't pull it off. Charon had already said it was impossible over the phone, and directly asking at the hotel would likely yield the same answer. At least from previous interactions, the hotel staff seemed to follow the rules.

Jimmy checked the traffic ahead and pulled over at the roadside, searched for Maxwell's number on his phone, and dialed, "Mr. Maxwell, is this a good time? How is the progress?"

Maxwell: "It's been communicated, waiting for news. I'm a bit busy now, I'll get back to you later. Goodbye."

Jimmy listened to the beeping of the phone, surprised. To hang up so directly—he seemed really busy.

Indeed, the Federal Prosecutor was quite busy, given the number of cases. However, it was after hours now, theoretically, he shouldn't be so dedicated. Unlike the FBI, who normally worked overtime on cases since suspects didn't work 9-to-5.

After pondering by the roadside for a while, he checked his watch, and since there was enough time, Jimmy started the car to head to a restaurant near Hughes's home.

A small restaurant with just four tables by the wall. It was after work hours, and not crowded. Jimmy sat across from Hughes, ordered food, and took a sip of the ready champagne on the table.

Hughes: "How's the communication going?"

Jimmy: "No feedback from Karaway yet. I plan to ask again tomorrow. The other side is halfway done; someone is stirring things up behind the scenes, and I'm dealing with it."

Hughes nodded: "There's a bit of news I need to tell you; there's information from Karaway's side, but some trouble needs handling now, so you don't need to follow her."

Jimmy: "Alright... Can I know what kind of trouble?"

Hughes took a slight deep breath, "A bit of trading, which we can manage. I'll tell you the outcome later; now's not the time. This restaurant's Beef Wellington is quite good."

Jimmy shrugged: "OK, you're the boss."

Hughes: "How's your plan for further studies going? By the way, what degree do you have now?"

Jimmy: "Graduated from community college, associate degree. The further study plan is progressing, lacking a bit of bureau policy. If there's policy support, it would go smoother."

Hughes: "Tell me more."

Jimmy saw the waiter coming over with a tray and paused without continuing. Once dinner was served and the waiter left, he continued: "Already contacted someone from the New York University Alliance. If there's policy support, they're willing to let me enroll anytime, focus on specified subject credits, and other very favorable conditions. Otherwise, it'll be normal on-the-job education registration, enrolling next year, taking roughly 2-3 years."

Hughes: "If everything goes smoothly?"

Jimmy: "About a year to a year and a half."

Hughes nodded, picked up knife and fork, and began dining. Jimmy said nothing more, and the two quietly finished dinner. Upon leaving the restaurant at the entrance, Hughes stopped beside, "Jimmy, wait... Is there certainty on the prosecutor's side?"

Jimmy nodded firmly: "I'll handle it." Just two matters in total, now that one has flown away, if I can't manage this matter, this test would be a complete failure.

Hughes: "OK, then I'll wait for your news."

Jimmy: "Alright, good night, Hughes."

Hughes: "Good night."

This place was very close to Hughes's home; he could walk back directly. Jimmy got into his car parked by the roadside and returned to his apartment to rest.

Sitting on the sofa, Nia was still working overtime, now it was Nia busy, Jimmy idle. Jimmy turned on the TV, opened a can of beer, and sipped leisurely.

Hughes was a bit off today; he hadn't asked about the prosecution side before, initially trusting Jimmy to handle it, but at the end stopped him just to ask. Was there unexpected circumstances?

After pondering a while, Jimmy decided to go ask.

After tidying clothes and holster, Jimmy went out, drove to Brooklyn. He knew Prosecutor Adam Maxwell's address. Although previously not tracking the location, the information wouldn't lie.

Arriving outside Adam Maxwell's house, Jimmy dialed his number from the car. Watching someone inside the house reach for the phone, Jimmy directly pinpointed his location, "Adam, is this a good time now?"

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