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

Chapter 90 So what if American police officers speak better Chinese than English?

The two walked up the dimly lit stairs and soon returned to the floor of Lyon's residence.

In the corridor, the homeless man named Old Bill was still obediently staying in the same spot.

There were two empty pizza boxes next to him, and he was sipping a cup of hot soup. He looked like he was finally full, and his complexion was much better than when he was fighting over the fried chicken.

Lyon's lips twitched as he watched. This guy can eat that much?!

When old Bill saw Leon return with an unfamiliar Asian man, he quickly put down the paper cup in his hand, stood up awkwardly, and subconsciously wiped the oil off his hands with his dirty sleeve.

Combining this with Leon's parting words, "I'll find you a place where you won't have to sleep on the streets," Old Bill's mind immediately registered the meaning.

Is this Asian man the owner of a tech company? Or is he here for an interview with his HR manager?

Thinking of this, Old Bee suddenly became a little nervous.

He hadn't been through an interview in a long time, not to mention he was currently looking like a homeless man who hadn't showered in months.

"Come in and let's talk."

Leon took out his keys, opened the apartment door, kicked it open, and gestured for the two to go inside first.

Old Bill nodded quickly and followed Alex into the house.

Lyon casually pulled up a chair and sat down, then pointed to the sofa opposite him, indicating that they should sit down as well.

"Old Bill, right?"

Leon glanced at the somewhat reserved homeless man sitting on the edge of the sofa, then gestured with his chin toward Alex beside him: "This is—well, Alex. One of my partners."

"I only heard you briefly mention your job earlier, and I don't know the specifics of your abilities."

"Now tell Alex in detail what you used to do, the more detailed the better. Don't hold back, let us see what you're really capable of."

Upon hearing this, old Bill immediately straightened his back.

He took a deep breath, and his eyes quickly regained their clarity, as if he had returned to the time when he was giving a project presentation in the outsourced laboratory of Raytheon.

"Yes, gentlemen."

Old Bill cleared his throat and began his self-introduction.

"I previously worked as a senior calibration engineer at an outsourced defense systems lab owned by Raytheon."

At first, Leon and Alex listened and nodded repeatedly.

But as old Bill went deeper into the story, the tone started to change.

"My main responsibilities are error compensation and environmental drift calibration for high-precision ring laser gyroscopes and hemispherical resonant gyroscopes (HRGs)."

"When dealing with the inertial navigation system of long-endurance cruise missiles, we must solve the lock-in effect."

The zero-bias instability caused by the effect.

"As you know, traditional Kalman filtering algorithms are prone to divergence when dealing with nonlinear dynamic noise."

"Therefore, I participated in optimizing a closed-loop algorithm based on the Extended Kalman Filter (EKF), which can effectively suppress the nonlinear deformation of piezoelectric actuators under extreme temperature alternation —"

Ah? ? ?

Alex could only reply with one sentence: I disagree. I personally think this pasta should be mixed with No. 42 concrete.

He sat on the sofa with his hands on his knees.

Alex is a mediocre international student who does outsourced corpse collection. His knowledge of electronic devices is limited to how to apply a screen protector to a phone and restart a router.

Even reinstalling his computer system required him to go to Chinatown for help, let alone these missile guidance theories that sounded like alien languages.

In less than a minute, his eyes went completely vacant, his pupils lost focus, and he just mechanically stared at Old Bill's constantly opening and closing mouth, his brain completely giving up trying to process information.

As for Lyon—

He was indeed listening very carefully at first, trying to assess the technical value of this talent.

But he soon discovered that he couldn't understand it either, and his head started to ache.

This is actually quite normal. Although Lyon can communicate fluently in English, the professional English vocabulary in the United States is completely different from the word-formation logic in Chinese.

This involves the special word formation structure of American English words in professional fields.

In Chinese, no matter how advanced the technical terms are, they are usually composed of basic Chinese characters.

For example, terms like "laser," "gyroscope," and "piezoelectric ceramic" can give you a general idea of ​​what they mean just by looking at the literal meaning of the words.

However, English technical terms rarely use simple word combinations. They are often created by borrowing Latin and Greek roots or by using extremely complex acronyms.

Terms like "Piezoelectric" and "Interferometric" are used.

If you don't specifically study a related major, let alone Leon being a time traveler, even a native-born, college-educated American would hear it as if they were listening to alien language.

This results in extremely high professional barriers; unless you're in that professional circle, you absolutely won't understand what they're talking about.

Old Bill was still there, talking non-stop about his frequency dithering technique.

Lyon's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair and silently shifted his gaze to Alex beside him.

Alex also turned his head at the same time, looking at Leon with a blank stare that seemed to say, "What kind of spell is this guy chanting?"

The two of them just stood there staring at each other.

Can't understand.

I can't understand it at all.

"Stop, stop, hold on, old Bill."

Lyon was the first to stop listening. He raised his hand and made a pause gesture, forcefully interrupting Old Bill's spellcasting.

Old Bill quickly shut his mouth, looking somewhat awkwardly at Lyon, swallowing hard, wondering if he had said something wrong or annoyed this potential boss.

"Let's switch places."

Lyon stood up, pointed to his chair, and then to the seat next to Alex.

Although old Bill didn't understand why, he still obediently stood up, went over and switched seats with Lyon.

Lyon plopped down on the sofa, right next to Alex.

Alex turned his head and looked at the American policeman who had suddenly approached him with a blank expression.

"What? You want to whisper to me again?"

He shrank to the side. "Why are two grown men squeezing so close together? I'm not interested in men."

"roll."

Leon ignored his nonsense, took out his phone from his pocket, tapped it a few times quickly, and then placed it screen-up on the coffee table in front of them.

The screen lights up.

Alex glanced down instinctively.

Then, his gaze froze.

That's a real-time voice translation software.

On the left side of the interface is a microphone icon with the word "English".

The translation result is displayed on the right side of the interface, and it reads: ————

[Chinese (Simplified)]

Alex felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

He looked up at Leon, whose face was calm, then looked down at the arrow that had been translated from English to Chinese.

If it were half an hour ago, and he had seen a white police officer pull out this translation software in front of him to translate English into Chinese, he might have jumped up in shock and yelled "Holy crap!"

But now?

Alex found himself surprisingly at peace with it.

His emotions were as stable as a corpse that had been dead for a long time.

So what if American police officers speak better Chinese than English?

That makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

That makes perfect sense.

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