American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

She picked up her phone, sent a text message to the professor, briefly reporting her situation, and then began tidying up the room.

As night fell, Elisa was organizing the clothes she had bought that morning in her small apartment. Several new sweaters and pants were spread on the air mattress. As she folded the clothes, she thought about what to wear to work the next day.

A soft knock on the apartment door interrupted her thoughts.

“Elisa, it’s me.” Lynn’s familiar voice came from outside the door.

She hurried to the door, opened it, and saw Lynn standing there, carrying two paper bags and wearing a gentle smile. He had changed out of his daytime formal attire, wearing a dark blue sweater and casual pants, looking much more relaxed than when he was working.

"Detective Lynn, what brings you here?" Elisa asked in surprise.

“I thought you had a tough day, so I brought some food.” Lynn held up the paper bag in her hand. “Chinese food, I hope you like it.”

Elisa invited him inside and took one of the paper bags. An enticing aroma wafted from the bag, reminding her that she was actually quite hungry. While she felt a sense of accomplishment from cooking lunch, the portion was insufficient, and her emotional turmoil in the afternoon had left her with little appetite.

“You’re so thoughtful,” Elisa said gratefully. “I was just wondering what to have for dinner.”

“I guess you’re not really in the mood to cook,” Lynn said, glancing around the apartment. “Looks like you’ve already started decorating.”

“Yes, although it’s still quite basic, it definitely feels like home.” Elisa pointed to a few shopping bags in the corner. “I bought some basic necessities, and I’m going to buy furniture tomorrow.”

They sat down at the small table, and Alyssa brought out two sets of tableware. Lynn began taking various Chinese dishes out of a paper bag: sweet and sour pork, Kung Pao chicken, stir-fried vegetables, and a box of white rice.

“Wow, this is a feast!” Elisa exclaimed. “These dishes all look amazing.”

“This is a really good Chinese restaurant around here,” Lynn said as she served the food. “The owner is an immigrant, and the food is very authentic. I think you might enjoy trying something different.”

Elisa picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and tasted it. The sweet and sour flavor made her eyes light up. "It's really delicious! We occasionally had Chinese food at the academy, but it wasn't this authentic."

“One of the advantages of living in New York is being able to taste food from all over the world,” Lynn said with a smile. “Once you’re more familiar with the city, I can take you to try cuisines from other countries.”

The two enjoyed their dinner while chatting casually. Elisa realized that Lynn was more like a caring friend or older brother than the serious FBI detective she had been during the day.

“Detective Lynn, may I ask you a personal question?” Elisa suddenly asked.

"Of course, what's the problem?"

“Why did you choose to become an FBI agent?” Alyssa asked curiously. “I mean, you seem capable of doing any job you want.”

Lynn put down his chopsticks and pondered for a moment. “My father was also a policeman, but he died in the line of duty when I was twelve.” His voice grew heavy. “That’s when I decided that when I grew up, I would continue his unfinished work—protecting the innocent.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that question,” Elisa said, feeling somewhat guilty.

“It’s alright, it’s no secret.” Lynn shook his head. “Actually, I think we’re somewhat similar. You choose to use your abilities to help others, and I choose to use my skills and experience to serve justice. We’re both doing our part to make the world a better place.”

Elisa nodded; she could sense Lynn's unwavering resolve and sense of justice. "Have you ever regretted your choice?"

“Sometimes,” Lynn answered honestly. “This job is dangerous and lonely. I’ve seen too much darkness, and sometimes it makes you lose faith in humanity. But whenever we successfully stop a crime or save an innocent life, it all feels worthwhile.”

"Just like when we interrogated Derek yesterday?"

“Yes. Although he was eventually rescued by a mysterious force, we at least obtained important intelligence and had a chance to stop that terrorist attack,” Lynn said. “And without your help, we would never have been able to get Derek to talk.”

Alyssa felt a surge of warmth. "So, will we continue investigating the Black Crow Organization tomorrow?"

“Yes, but you don’t need to get involved for now.” Lynn’s tone became very protective. “We’ll send someone to monitor the warehouse first to confirm if Victor Klein is still there. I’ll let you know if we need your help.”

“I understand,” Elisa nodded. “I do need time to adjust to a normal work and life right now.”

"Speaking of work, how was your day at the FBI? Is Mark a good colleague?"

“Yes, he was very friendly and patient,” Alyssa said. “Although archival work can be a bit monotonous, I find myself enjoying the sense of order. And being able to support important investigations makes it very meaningful to me.”

“That’s good. Supervisor Chen also has a very good impression of you,” Lynn told her. “She said you learn very quickly and have a very serious work attitude.”

Just as they were having a pleasant conversation, Lynn's phone suddenly rang. The ringtone sounded particularly jarring in the quiet apartment. Lynn glanced at the caller ID, and her expression immediately turned serious.

“Sorry, I have to take this call,” he said to Alyssa, then answered the phone. “This is Hall.”

Although Alyssa couldn't hear the exact words on the other end of the phone, she could sense Lynn's changing emotions. His muscles tensed, and his expression became focused and alert.

"When did this happen?" Lynn asked, standing up from his chair. "Were there any casualties?"

After a few seconds' pause, Lynn continued, "The suspect escaped? Okay, I'll be right there. Get the technical team to the scene first, and don't let anyone destroy the evidence."

After hanging up the phone, Lynn turned to Alyssa, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry, I have to leave immediately. There's been a shooting in Fifth Street."

"Is anyone hurt?" Elisa asked worriedly.

“One person was shot and has been taken to the hospital; their vital signs are stable,” Lynn said, straightening his clothes. “The criminal has escaped; we need to get to the scene as soon as possible to investigate.”

Elisa stood up and watched Lynn quickly switch into work mode. This sudden change made her realize once again the danger and urgency of his job.

“You must be careful,” she said sincerely.

“I will.” Lynn was already walking towards the door. “Thank you for having dinner with me, though I didn’t finish it all. You can save the leftovers for tomorrow.” “Work is important, I understand.” Elisa saw him to the door. “If you need my help, please feel free to contact me.”

“This should just be a regular shooting; there’s no need to use your special abilities.” Lynn stopped at the door. “You should get some rest; you have work tomorrow.”

Watching Lynn's hurried departure, Elisa realized that this was the reality of making friends with law enforcement officers—their lives could be disrupted by unexpected events at any time, and they could face danger at any moment.

Lynn drove through the streets of Manhattan at night, the sirens of police cars blaring sharply amidst the city's clamor. Fifth Street was about a twenty-minute drive from Elisa's apartment, but with the aftermath of rush hour, he needed more time.

His mind raced, processing the information from the phone call: the shooting occurred around 7:45 p.m. in a small commercial area on Fifth Street. The victim was a 32-year-old male who was shot in the shoulder outside a convenience store. The suspect fled the scene immediately after the shooting, and witness accounts contradicted each other.

When Lynn arrived at the scene, several police cars were already parked there, their red and blue lights flashing in the night sky. Yellow police tape cordoned off the area around the convenience store, and several police officers were maintaining order and preventing onlookers from getting closer.

“Detective Hall!” a young policeman ran towards him. “I was the first officer to arrive at the scene, Tom Williams.”

“Officer Williams, give me a briefing,” Lynn said as he walked toward the scene.

“The victim’s name is Jason Parker, 32 years old, and he was the manager of this convenience store.” Williams took out his notebook. “According to his statement, he had just closed the store and was about to go home when someone suddenly shot him from behind as he reached the door. The bullet struck his left shoulder, and the shooter immediately fled.”

Did he get a clear look at the shooter?

“No, he said the shooter attacked from behind, and it happened so suddenly he didn’t see clearly,” Williams continued, “but several witnesses saw what happened.”

Lynn walked to the convenience store and carefully observed the scene. There were bloodstains on the ground, as well as bullet casings marked by the police. The security camera at the store entrance had already been checked by technicians.

"Are the surveillance videos useful?" Lynn asked.

“There are some images, but they’re not very clear,” Williams replied. “The technical team is analyzing them and hopes to improve the image quality.”

Lynn nodded, then walked toward the group of people marked as witnesses. The first was an elderly woman in her sixties who lived in the apartment building across from the convenience store.

“Madam, I am FBI Detective Hall.” Lynn showed her badge. “Please tell me what you saw.”

“I was watering the plants by the window when I heard a gunshot,” the old woman said, her voice trembling. “I looked down and saw one person lying on the ground, and another running.”

Could you describe the person who ran away?

“It was blurry, the distance was too far,” the old woman tried to recall. “It looked like a man, wearing dark clothes, of medium build. He ran very fast, heading towards the alley to the east.”

"Any other details? Age, hair color, etc."

“I’m sorry, it’s too dark, I can’t see clearly,” the old woman shook her head, “but I’m sure he ran east.”

Lynn noted down this information and then went to question other witnesses. The second witness was a young man who claimed he was in the coffee shop across the street at the time.

“I heard gunshots and looked outside, and saw a person fall in front of the convenience store,” the young man said. “Then I saw another person run out of an alley and head south.”

Lynn frowned. "South? The lady just said east."

“I’m sure he was heading south,” the young man insisted. “I saw it clearly; he was wearing a hoodie and running very fast.”

The third witness was the owner of the restaurant next to the convenience store, and his testimony differed again.

“I was cleaning up the restaurant when I heard the gunshot and ran out to see what was happening,” the restaurant owner said. “I saw a person in a dark coat running towards the main street to the north. He looked like a young man, but I couldn’t make out his features.”

Lynn realized this was a common problem in shooting investigations—witness testimonies often contradicted each other, especially at night and in emergency situations. People's memories could be affected by fear and confusion, leading to inaccurate details.

"How's the tech team doing?" Lynn asked Williams.

“They are analyzing the trajectory to determine the firing angle and distance,” Williams replied. “They are also looking for any remaining evidence, such as spent cartridge cases or items left behind by the suspect.”

Lynn walked inside the convenience store, wanting to learn more about the victims. Everything inside seemed normal; there were no signs of a robbery. The cash register wasn't opened, and the merchandise hadn't been taken.

“This doesn’t look like a robbery,” Lynn said to Williams. “If it was about money, why didn’t they just go inside and rob the store, instead of shooting from outside and running away?”

"Perhaps something unexpected happened?" Williams guessed. "Or maybe it was a dispute between acquaintances?"

Lynn nodded; these were all possible motives. He needed more information to determine the nature of the shooting.

The head of the technical team approached Lynn to report. "Detective, we found a 9mm pistol cartridge case at the scene. Preliminary analysis suggests the firing distance was approximately ten to fifteen feet."

"What about the surveillance footage?"

"The image quality isn't great, but you can make out a blurry figure. We're trying to enhance the image to get a clearer picture," the technician said. "Also, we found some footprints in the alley and are making a plaster cast."

“Okay, let’s continue the analysis,” Lynn said. “I’m going to the hospital to see the victim; perhaps he can provide more information.”

On the way to the hospital, Lynn pondered the various possibilities of the case. A simple robbery, a personal grudge, a random crime, or some other more complex motive. As an experienced detective, he knew he couldn't rush to conclusions; he needed to carefully gather all the evidence.

At the hospital, Jason Parker was receiving treatment in the emergency room. The bullet had been removed, and although the injury was not life-threatening, he was still in shock.

“Mr. Parker, I’m FBI Detective Hall.” Lynn sat down beside the bed. “I need to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, Inspector.” Jason’s voice was weak, “though I’m not sure how much help I can offer.” (End of Chapter)