Lillian stood up and saluted Major John Wilson with a serious expression. "I will fully cooperate with your work."
Jack's heart began to race as he glanced at the circle of disciplined inspectors standing behind him, their imposing presence making his throat dry.
"Well then, as per standard procedure, we'll start by questioning you first," Major Wilson said politely, gesturing for Lillian to sit beside Jack. He then took her previous seat. "Where were you last night before your subordinate became involved in the altercation with the local civilians?"
"I was here. Director Kevin can vouch for me."
"Were you aware that your subordinate was in New York last night?"
"Yes."
"Did you anticipate this incident occurring?"
"No."
"During the incident, did Jack contact you? I mean from the time the altercation began until it ended."
"No."
"So when Jack was taken to the New York Police Department, did he inform you?"
"No."
"How did you learn about this situation?"
"The head of the NYPD interrogation division called me to ask who Jack was."
"And what did you say?"
"I requested that the case be transferred to the Federal Bureau."
"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"
"No."
That's it? Jack noticed Major Wilson shifting his gaze toward him. His nerves tightened, and cold sweat began to bead on his back.
Major Wilson raised his hand in a calming gesture, his tone gentle. "Don't worry. We've reviewed the local police records; they're favorable to you. This is just standard protocol. Right?" He turned to Lillian with a sudden smile. "Right, Lillian?"
"Shut up!" Lillian snapped playfully, fanning herself with her hat. She glanced at Jack, who was sitting stiffly. "Just answer the questions you're asked."
Major Wilson let out a long sigh. "If the NYPD hadn't transferred the case and claimed it involved an agent, I wouldn't have had to drive here so early." He pulled a device resembling a remote control from his pocket. "Even though this is just procedural, I'll need to increase the power of the 'mental lock.' Don't worry."
"Power?" Jack felt a wave of dizziness when Major Wilson pressed a button, but it quickly passed. The previously relaxed Major Wilson now wore a stern expression. "Jack, the formal questioning begins now. Please answer all questions truthfully."
The questioning was indeed procedural, and Major Wilson's skill as an interrogator was undeniable. Jack found himself guided smoothly toward framing the incident as self-defense. The events at the police station? Not a single word came up.
"All right, that's everything," Major Wilson said, closing the dossier he had been working on. He handed it to Jack for his signature, then patted him on the shoulder with a friendly smile. "Relax, brother. I told you this was just a formality. If it were serious, it wouldn't be us coming to see you. Look at you, sweating bullets." He pressed the button on the remote again, then turned to Lillian. "Hey, Lillian, it's almost lunchtime. Aren't you going to treat us?"
"Shut up. The barbecue place across the street—I'm buying." Lillian laughed, patting the shoulder of one of the inspectors resting on a couch. "When I saw it was you guys coming, I knew it wouldn't be a problem."
Jack followed the group out, still in a daze. Taking the opportunity, he tugged on Lillian's sleeve and asked quietly, "Domestic Security Inspection Division?"
"Yes, the National Security Inspection Division. They handle disciplinary issues for federal agents," Lillian replied in a low voice. "Most of them are seasoned agents from the Special Operations Bureau, and some, like John, are retired super-agents looking for quieter roles."
"What's the Special Operations Bureau?" Jack asked.
"The Federal Special Operations Bureau. It's where most federal agents start their careers." Lillian shrugged. "Frankly, 'Agent Bureau' would be a more accurate name."
"Then why is our unit called the Operations Guidance Bureau?" Jack found the name completely mismatched with their actual responsibilities.
Lillian chuckled. "Historical reasons. Don't overthink it. Just focus on getting the inspectors drunk later—that's your mission."
The meal was extravagant. Lillian, with her six-figure salary, spent over $2,000 on the feast. The inspectors drank heavily, teetering on the edge of collapse, but Jack couldn't help admiring their discipline. Even in their drunken state, not a single button on their immaculate uniforms was undone.
"Go home." After arranging for the inspectors to take a nap, Lillian sighed as she looked at Jack. "I heard you lost your job. Don't dwell on it. Just focus on living a steady life."
At that moment, John, who had been half-asleep, suddenly sat up. "Jack, are you still looking for work?"
"I'm just killing time," Jack replied with a smile.
"Same here. In the Inspection Division, we're always hoping for new cases, but the agents these days are too well-behaved." John chuckled self-deprecatingly, then seemed to remember something. Leaning toward Lillian, he whispered, "The First Unit found something in the north…"
Lillian immediately raised her hand to stop him. She turned to Jack and said, "You should head back. I have some matters to discuss."
Jack returned home, setting aside the day's events, but one word lingered in his mind: power. He spent the afternoon pondering its significance. It has to do with waves, maybe even the limits of my abilities. But as a liberal arts graduate, he found the concept too complex to grasp.
Still, he resolved silently: I need to figure this out someday.
Jack had always found military inspectors to be quite strict yet fair. He remembered seeing them on the streets, stopping vehicles with military plates for inspections, and not even sparing high-ranking generals.
After Jack lost his job, his parents didn't make a big deal out of it. They simply let it slide. Whether he planned to find another job or just lounge around at home, they left it entirely up to him.
This leniency likely stemmed from the time Jack's mother had a chance to visit a real "military restricted zone." Ever since that experience, the only question she would occasionally ask was when he and Emily planned to get married. Beyond that, she stayed out of his affairs entirely.
Once again, Lillian disappeared without a word about her destination. Jack could only sigh in resignation about his mysterious, ever-elusive boss.
In some ways, Jack was an idealistic rebel. He often dreamed of becoming a hero like those in action movies—storming an enemy stronghold with a blade, sacrificing himself for a noble cause. He had once told Lillian that his ultimate dream was to perish while taking down an evil organization. It wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment sentiment; at his age, he genuinely longed to grab a weapon and make a legendary stand in enemy territory.
But Lillian had bluntly told him that such things were not his responsibility to worry about.
Jack had also considered applying to join the "First Unit" or "Second Unit." Even if the missions were perilous, at least he could make a difference and justify the salary he received from taxpayers—especially since he himself didn't pay taxes.
As a graduate with a degree in finance, Jack was well-versed in economic law. He knew full well that federal employees' salaries came from taxpayers' pockets. This awareness only fueled his desire to contribute something meaningful in return.
Unfortunately, he still had nothing to do.
"Do you have any idea how hard we have to work to earn more than $3,000 a month?" Emily fumed, glaring at Jack, who was lounging around listlessly. She looked like she was about to knock some sense into him.
"White-collar workers i
"But this is New York!" Emily retorted angrily. "It's not Washington or Los Angeles! T
"So what?" Jack sighed. "That's exactly why we're exploited by capitalism. Besides," he added, looking at Emily, "I'm not moping around because of money. I'm just bored. Understand?"
"Bored?" Emily rolled her eyes in frustration. "We ca
"If you had to sit around doing nothing for two months straight, you'd crack too," Jack countered with another sigh. "Do you know why housewives love playing mahjong? It's because they're too idle."
"Then go find a job!" Emily pointed at the calendar. "It's April—perfect spring weather. Don't waste it!"
"It's not that I'm planning to waste it," Jack frowned. "But I'd rather gather people to play mahjong at home. Is that okay?"
"No," Emily said firmly. "If you stay idle for too long, you'll waste away."
That said, April wasn't the best time to job hunt. A fresh wave of college graduates was flooding the labor market, while experienced white-collar workers had just completed their annual job switches. On top of that, Jack's spoken French was abysmal. Despite scoring full marks in written exams, he sounded like a child learning to read when he tried to piece together sentences during interviews with French-speaking recruiters.
As a result, his job interview last week ended in failure…
"I don't want to waste the spring weather either, but it's tough out there," Jack said with a weary sigh. "When we first entered college, the job market was flooded with graduates from the first wave of enrollment expansions. Then, as soon as we started studying, companies began demanding BEC certifications. After reforms, they stopped issuing qualification certi
"Then why don't you try applying to domestic companies?" Emily suggested. "They don't need French fluency, do they?"
"I've tried that too," Jack said, shaking his head. "Last month, I interviewed with a telecom company. It was humiliating. I aced the written test, ranking first, but after the interview, I dropped to third—just one point short. The ones ahead of me? One ranked seventh in
"You're too ambitious for your own good," Emily criticized him sharply. "Why not start small?"
"Fair point." Jack nodded in agreement. He followed Emily to a job fair and submitted dozens of resum
Not long after, he received a call. "Mr. Jack, we're very interested in your resume. We'd like to invite you to an interview tomorrow afternoon."
Jack passed the interview with ease. When bureaucracy didn't get in the way, his skills made landing a job relat
However, the day before he was about to go to work, he received a call from Lillian: "Jack?"