You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Seattle West Precinct, three-story underground armory.

The outer room of the armory looked like it had been ransacked. The ACU members were gathered around a pile of newly opened black hard plastic crates, their eyes gleaming with greed. The armory was filled with the crisp metallic clanging of bolts being pulled and excited wolf howls.

This is all thanks to the great Article 1033.

ACU's equipment has received an exaggerated and comprehensive upgrade.

Jacob was holding a brand-new CQBR short-barreled assault rifle, skillfully pulling the bolt, listening to the crisp metallic scraping sound, his face full of rapture.

"A holographic sight, a tactical flashlight, and a foregrip... this is much better than our old, beat-up M4s."

This short-barreled rifle is designed specifically for close-quarters combat (CQB).

The short barrel means that when kicking down a door in a narrow drug dealer's apartment, the barrel won't awkwardly get stuck in the door frame.

The holographic sight is incredibly easy to use, making it perfect for these rough-around-the-edges guys with limited education.

This thing doesn't require the kind of precise aiming you get with iron sights. Just put the glowing red ring in the lens over the suspect's chest, pull the trigger, and he's dead.

In addition, the crates contained boxes of stun grenades and several sets of heavy tactical vests.

"This is what you call a bulletproof vest!"

The bulldozer pulled a heavy tactical vest from the box and excitedly held it up to his broad chest.

He pulled a thick, black ceramic bulletproof plate from the interlayer and banged it loudly.

Previously, they wore lightweight Kevlar soft body armor, which was stuffy and hot, and could only protect against 9mm pistols from street thugs.

If you run into a drug dealer with an AK, one shot can pierce his lung.

But this is now a military-grade, level 4 ceramic bulletproof plate.

Although it's as heavy as carrying a tombstone, as long as you put it in front of your chest, even if you are hit head-on by a full-powered rifle bullet, you will at most break two ribs and will definitely not die.

Just as these muscular men were drooling over the new guns and armor, the armory's custodian, a blind old man named Old Pete, was standing at the armory's collection counter.

His left eye was a cloudy glass prosthetic eye, and he usually had a terrible temper, like a sock that hadn't been washed for a hundred days. He would curse and grumble for a long time over the iron fence whenever someone came to collect two boxes of ammunition.

But today, the old man's condition seems quite unusual.

He was taking a heavy metal explosion-proof box out of the heavy safe behind him.

Inside were directional breaching patches, detonating cord, a box of military detonators, and even C4 plastic explosives that looked like putty and had a faint almond scent.

This is the door-opening tool that Garcia reluctantly approved for Chloe, even while holding his nose.

Old Pete's single remaining eye revealed an extremely complex emotion.

He muttered in a hoarse voice, "You guys are going to blow Seattle to smithereens," and "This is completely against the rules," while staring intently at the explosives in the box, his Adam's apple bobbing.

His face even showed a hint of barely suppressed, fervent excitement; clearly, after firing pistol bullets here for decades, the old man was itching to get back to work.

"The handover form is signed, give it to me, old Pete!"

Chloe's eyes lit up when she saw the box of explosives.

Her fanatical expression was like that of a starving ghost seeing a Manchu Han Imperial Feast. She originally thought that the stingy logistics guy would at most give her a few detonators to hear, but she didn't expect him to bring her a small ammunition depot!

She was screaming inwardly, "Leon is loyal! !" The boss really did what he said he would do! This is the life a human being should live!

She excitedly reached out her hands to catch the explosion-proof box.

As a result, old Pete gripped the metal handle of the suitcase tightly.

Chloe tugged hard, but couldn't budge it.

The two remained locked in a stalemate, separated by the iron bars of the window.

Old Pete was still muttering to himself, his eyes fixed on the C4: "These are all valuable items, be careful with the fuses..."

"What are you babbling about! Give it to me!"

Chloe didn't want to listen to his rambling at all. With a sudden burst of strength, she snatched the box of explosives from the old man's hands, grabbed the box, and ran off to check the inventory without looking back.

Watching his excited team members yelling, the deputy team leader Harrison leaned against the iron fence and silently lit a cigarette.

Sterling, that woman, has boundless ambition.

Arming police has been an extremely sensitive political issue across the United States.

Distributing decommissioned heavy weaponry from the military to local police, making them look like occupying forces waging a counterinsurgency war in an enemy country, would normally be met with fierce criticism from liberal politicians.

While heavy weaponry isn't exactly hard to come by for someone of Sterling's stature in the US, it's something that's done privately and can only be used to arm his unofficial cronies. The police, as an official organization, are subject to many restrictions.