Police in Los Angeles

Just as Jack was about to continue, Zoe gently pushed him away and asked, puzzled, "Are you sure you're okay? Today was your first time shooting and killing a suspect, yet you're here worrying about John."

"My heart and actions are as clear as a mirror; everything I do is for justice."

Zoe, not understanding the Chinese, suppressed the tingling in her body and asked, "What did you just say?"

Jack sighed, propping his head up with one hand and looking at Zoe. "Don't worry. Apart from the disgusting scene after shooting, which made me very uncomfortable, my resolve in being a police officer hasn't wavered at all. If it happens again, I'll pull the trigger even more decisively."

"God just used my finger to deliver a righteous judgment. It was that scumbag Selby who forced himself into a dead end."

Zoe rubbed her forehead. "When you talk to the psychologist about this tomorrow, don't say it like that. I'm afraid they'll write down something about you possibly abusing your power. Every year, many officers who are too convinced of their own righteousness and act recklessly are dismissed."

Jack nodded but remained skeptical. Having watched many TV shows, he thought of "Dexter" and wondered if there really was a Dexter Morgan working at the Miami Metro Police Department. If given the chance, he would like to find out.

What truly unsettled him was the bullet that grazed his ear today. When adrenaline surged, he felt no fear or panic. Instead, an uncontrollable excitement spread through his body.

He could clearly recall the scene: grabbing the M16 calmly in the car, returning fire, pursuing on foot, sneaking behind the tree, and pulling the trigger steadily with Angela's permission.

When the criminal's head burst into a cloud of blood, every cell in his body seemed to cheer. This feeling of anger being released lasted until he broke his routine and came to Zoe's house.

Maybe Zoe thought Jack sought her out for comfort after his first kill, but only Jack knew that if he hadn't come to see Zoe, he might have impulsively gone out at night to hunt down gang members.

The original owner of this body must have had some serious issues. What kind of antisocial personality disorder is this? A normal person under an adrenaline rush should experience tunnel vision, rapid breathing, trembling legs, and shaky hands while shooting, not this level of excitement.

Does this mean he will need to find a girl to vent his emotions after every dangerous encounter? What if he's surrounded by men? Would the psychologist treat this condition?

---

Psychologist Maureen Cahill had long black hair, black eyes, thin lips contrary to Western beauty standards, and high cheekbones, giving her a unique intellectual charm.

Jack couldn't remember which TV show featured this psychologist, but he recognized the actress's face. She was Jordana Brewster, who played Mia in the "Fast and Furious" series.

He remembered the actress had lost a lot of weight after having two kids, becoming unrecognizable. However, the Maureen Cahill in front of him looked around 30, her face still full of collagen, and her beauty was captivating.

Noticing someone's gaze, Dr. Cahill, who was reading through files, looked up puzzled. Jack quickly looked away, observing the room instead.

The room was small and simply furnished. A desk backed by large floor-to-ceiling windows faced the sofa where Jack sat. A large coffee table sat in front of the sofa, and two abstract paintings hung on the left wall. On the other side was a glass cabinet with several sets of glass and ceramic tea sets.

A vase with various kinds of roses sat on the desk, suggesting that this beautiful psychologist had more than one admirer.

After the incident with Selby, the police union mandated psychological intervention for rookie officers. So, early this morning, Jack had arrived at the EAP counseling center. Although he felt fine, he didn't want to seem unique. Unexpectedly, he saw a familiar face.

"Can I call you Jack? You can call me Maureen. I prefer a more casual atmosphere," Dr. Cahill said, adjusting her gold-rimmed glasses with a graceful motion after finishing reading Jack's thin file.

Jack's mental alarm bells rang. In his past life, psychology wasn't as magical as portrayed in TV shows, but in this world, who knew? After all, in his past life, LAPD rookies weren't known to shoot armed suspects in the head on their second day.

"Hello, Maureen. Please call me Jack. Forgive my rudeness, but this is the first time I've seen such a beautiful psychologist."

Maureen chuckled softly and asked, "So, have you seen many psychologists?"

"Uh," Jack scratched his head awkwardly, like a shy big boy. "No, you're the first psychologist I've met. I meant, I didn't expect someone as beautiful as you to..."

Feeling like he was making it worse, Jack decided to stop talking.

Fortunately, Maureen didn't seem to mind. Instead, she took out a tea set and asked, "Do you drink tea? I prefer a nice Cerisian green tea."

Jack's eyes lit up. Taking the tea caddy Maureen handed him, he opened it and found it contained Biluochun from Jiangnan in Ceris. Memories stirred within him.

"May I try? This set is meant for oolong tea and isn't quite right for this green tea."

Maureen, surprised, gestured for Jack to proceed, pulling up a chair to sit at the coffee table, watching him with interest.

Jack didn't hold back. He opened the cabinet, took out two glass cups and a cloisonné teapot, poured hot water into the teapot, and expertly rinsed the cups before adding the tea leaves.

Once the water in the teapot cooled slightly, he poured about a quarter of a cup into each cup to let the tea leaves steep. Then, he repeatedly poured water high into the cups to make the leaves dance up and down. Finally, he filled each cup to about 70%.

Maureen lifted her glass, the steam carrying the aroma instantly invigorating her. She couldn't help but let out a low exclamation, her eyes filled with surprise as she looked at Jack.

Watching the spiral-shaped tea leaves settle at the bottom, Jack took a sip and sighed, "Good tea." High-end Cerisian green tea could be found in Chinatown, but the price was usually higher than gold, something his poverty couldn't afford.

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