The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

It was obvious that the young sheriff was not the type to rely on prestige to manage the police station. Hearing this, he couldn't help but smile bitterly, "Okay, okay, but it's not too early. We still have to clean up here."

Alice stomped her hands on the floor like a spoiled child. "Come on, Boss, today is my favorite holiday. I even wore my most special sexy holiday boots."

Then she slightly straightened her face and pretended to be serious, with an expression that was both angry and happy, "Even if we have to go our separate ways tomorrow, it has to be after a happy party."

Even Jack could see how serious this girl was about this little New Year's party. Apparently, all the decorations around it were done by her alone.

"Then how could I bear to disappoint you? Enjoy it." Sheriff Ronik raised his eyebrows slightly, which was considered as agreement.

-

"So you're just passing by?" Placing the steaming coffee cup in front of Jack, the young sheriff sat back behind his desk and flipped through the newspaper seemingly casually.

"I used to be an LAPD officer, and I was a colleague of John. He offended the union president not long ago and was sent here for a week. I was just about to return to New York from Los Angeles, so I could be considered passing through."

Jack had nothing to hide, so he pulled out his ID and placed it in front of him.

"Agent Tavol, you are younger than I thought." Ronik just glanced at it casually and handed the ID back.

Jack's eyes swept over his sparsely stubbled lips and chin. "You too, I mean, as a precinct chief of a big city police department."

Ronnick was keenly aware that Jack had noticed his tattoo, so he generously rolled up his sleeves to let him see it clearly.

"This is my reward for working as an undercover police officer for five years. Just eight months ago, I thought I would walk with a limp forever." As he said this, he patted his right leg hard.

It turned out that he was an undercover agent and then relegated to the second line after being injured. No wonder he became the police chief at such a young age, and was even in charge of a police station alone. Although it was a remote police station that was about to be closed, he was still a chief after all.

Jack waved his hand and also chose to get straight to the point. "Sorry, I'm just a little curious. I've been to Chicago, but this is my first time in Detroit. I'm curious about everything here."

The extent to which the city of Detroit has fallen can be clearly seen from a random example. In the mayoral election a few years ago, four out of the eight candidates had felony records, including drug charges and murder.

This metropolis, once ranked fourth in the United States, did not begin to decline in recent years. As early as the 60s, riots caused by racial issues plunged the entire city into turmoil.

The then US President Lyndon Johnson urgently authorized the military to intervene, and US soldiers including the 101st Airborne Division, the 82nd Airborne Division and the National Guard drove tanks into the city.

Five days later, after more than 5 casualties and more than 1200 buildings razed to the ground, the riot was finally quelled. A total of more than 2000 people were arrested and imprisoned.

As time came to the 70s, due to rising oil prices, the American automobile industry was impacted by the Japanese automobile manufacturing industry.

Detroit, home to the headquarters of three major automobile companies, General Motors, Ford and Chrysler, has suffered an unprecedented blow. With the further decline of the economy and the further intensification of the white retreat and the black advance, the urban population, which had more than 180 million citizens at its peak, has dropped to less than 70 today.

Apparently hearing some hidden meaning in Jack's euphemistic words, Ronik shook his head with a wry smile, "If you are here to experience some urban legends, you may be disappointed.

The Detroit River now has alarms with cameras every 150 feet (45 meters), so at least the downtown core is relatively safe.”

Jack smiled and spread his hands, "You misunderstood, I didn't come here with a curiosity mentality, if that were the case, I might as well go directly to Kensington Street in Philadelphia.

I was curious about Detroit simply because I was a semi-muscle car enthusiast and I had a 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans-AM.

As a guy who has contributed far more to the American auto industry than most ordinary Americans (just look at the cars that Jack has scrapped in recent years), Jack thinks it's not too much to pretend to be a muscle car enthusiast.

Hearing this, Ronick smiled and said, "That's a coincidence. I have a second-generation Dodge Charger. Maybe after the snowstorm tonight, I can drive it to take you to visit the headquarters of General Motors and Ford."

"It's a deal then." Jack took the initiative to extend his hand and shake his hand, as if to tell each other the truth.

Although he was only vaguely familiar with the young sheriff's appearance, he didn't look like an action movie star given his small figure. Jack felt that this trip to Detroit might go smoothly.

At this time, the sound of high heels and wooden floors came from far away and finally stopped at the door of the office, and then the door was knocked.

"Alice, what's going on?"

Before Ronik finished speaking, the office door was pushed open, revealing Alice's pretty face with a sweet smile, "Sheriff, the man I made an appointment with every Friday is here."

Ronik subconsciously glanced at the heavy snow outside the glass window behind him and uttered a lament, "Are you kidding me?"

"Although I know you don't like your psychiatrist very much, this attitude is really hurtful, Sheriff Roenicke."

Along with the voice came a beautiful woman in a violet coat. She walked around Alice and into the office. When she saw Jack, she was slightly stunned, with a look of surprise on her face, as if she recognized him.

"No, no, no, I'm just a little surprised because there are guests here."

Ronick left his desk and tried very hard to introduce the two parties. "This is Dr. Sebian, the psychiatrist assigned to me by the union. This is Jack, who came from Los Angeles and passed through Detroit. Uh... He said it's OK to call him Jack."

Apparently this guy only remembered "Jack", who had the same name as himself, and had forgotten his last name.

"Jack Tawalla, I know you. I'm Alex Sabian, you can just call me Alex." The psychologist, who was as beautiful as Alice but had a very different temperament, took the initiative to extend her hand to Jack.

"Have we met before?" Jack stretched out his hand and shook hers. Although he asked this, he was very sure in his heart that he and this intellectual beauty had never met before.

"The author of Jack Reacher, right? Professor David Rossi once recommended your novel to me, and I liked it very much. I also talked about you with Professor Maureen Cahill and learned that you are now studying for a master's degree under her.

But to be honest, you look much more handsome in person than the author's photo on the novel's title page."

Jack was also convinced. The author photo he put in the book was a close-up shot in which he deliberately wore a pair of black-framed glasses that made him look particularly stupid, but he could still be recognized.

It was said that the glasses represent Clark Kent's true self, but why do they have no effect on him?

Alex seemed to have noticed Jack's confusion, and she explained with a smile, "I am also the forensic psychology consultant for NCIS. I've heard your name a lot recently. Now that you're here, has the Hawaii issue been resolved?"

Jack suddenly realized, "Yes, it's solved. I never thought the world is so small."