To be honest, if it weren't for the fact that Forrest City was on the way back from Little Rock, Jack would have much preferred that Jubal be the one to visit this esteemed judge.
He disliked beating around the bush in conversations, and he hated the superficial pleasantries that Americans used in daily social interactions.
Many Chinese immigrants were baffled by this at first—especially those who confidently believed in their amazing cooking skills.
After all, no matter what they made—dumplings, sweet porridge, even a simple cold salad—their American neighbors would act like it was the most delicious thing they had ever eaten, eyes practically welling up with tears.
But in reality?
Taste was subjective. Most Americans weren't actually that into authentic Chinese flavors. They were simply being polite—expressing appreciation for the gesture of sharing food rather than actually loving the food itself.
This was even more obvious at parties, where everyone brought their "signature dish" and each dish supposedly had some kind of "secret ingredient."
Unless something was so awful that people physically couldn't hide their reactions, every dish would at least get a "very interesting" or "unique" comment.
Of course, whether it was actually good?
That was clear by how much of it was left at the end of the night.
Take John, for example—he had insisted on dipping Jack's homemade shumai in ketchup. Now that was how you treated a real friend—with honesty, not empty compliments.
If you weren't used to America's "instant bonding, instant forgetting" style of socialization, it could be deeply misleading.
Two Americans could meet for the first time and immediately hit it off—trading compliments, taking selfies, adding each other on social media, even pouring their hearts out like they were long-lost best friends.
Then?
The moment they parted ways, poof. Back to being complete strangers.
They would never contact each other again.
Jack thought about all this because right now, he was trying to extract useful information from this judge—not waste time on empty formalities.
At the moment, both he and JJ had zero patience to play along with these pointless social games.
From the courthouse to the parking lot, Judge Arthur Hobbs had done nothing but spout meaningless small talk.
Jack had had enough.
He quickened his pace, deliberately stepping in front of the judge—effectively blocking his path. Though his tone remained polite, there was no mistaking the underlying force behind his words.
"Sir, given that Howard Roark is still on the run—and given his unstable mental state—he could very well target his family, former colleagues, or anyone connected to him.
The FBI needs detailed information so we can track him down as quickly as possible—before there are even more casualties."
Judge Hobbs finally stopped walking.
His eyes flickered around the parking lot—checking if anyone was watching—before he lowered his voice slightly.
"Howard and I weren't just classmates—we worked together as clerks back in Washington, D.C.
So I thought that if I were the one to break the news to him… maybe it wouldn't hit him quite as hard."
Jack's eyes sharpened. "What news?"
JJ also leaned in slightly, mirroring the judge's lowered tone. "Why did you meet with him?"
Hobbs took a half-step back, positioning himself behind a pillar, partially obscuring his figure.
"As chairman of the Arkansas Appellate Court Nomination Committee, I had to inform him of some… unfortunate news."
Jack and JJ exchanged a brief glance.
"He applied for an appellate court position… but wasn't selected?"
"Correct." Judge Hobbs let out a slow sigh. "Initially, we did consider him.
You have to understand, with his background, his… credentials… Well, let's just say it was hard to justify why he'd been stuck at a county court for so long."
"But then?" JJ prompted.
"Then we sent out a JNE."
JJ nodded in understanding. "A judicial nomination evaluation? The anonymous survey sent to the candidate's colleagues and acquaintances?"
"Exactly." Hobbs spread his hands. "The survey allows people to speak freely, without fear of repercussions. It's the only way we can get honest feedback."
Jack cut straight to the point. "And what was the result of Roark's evaluation?"
Hobbs grimaced. "It was bad. Very bad."
He lowered his voice even further.
"There were allegations of sexual harassment, bribery, racial discrimination… and—ironically—claims that he was too lenient toward certain minority groups.
To be blunt, even for a regular judge, his conduct was… unacceptable. Let alone for someone seeking a position in the appellate court."
Jack exhaled sharply. "And you told him this directly?"
"Of course." Hobbs hesitated for a moment, then fully admitted it.
"I told him to withdraw his application immediately.
Frankly, as a friend, I was already doing him a favor by not making those complaints public.
The way he's been behaving these past few years… it's been an embarrassment."
"You understand, right?"
Hobbs' voice dropped to a whisper.
"This is Arkansas. One of the most conservative states in America.
It doesn't matter if you're a hardline Puritan or an ultra-progressive activist.
As long as you stand for something, you'll find a support base here.
But Roark?
He tried to appease everyone—and in the process, ended up alienating everyone."
Jack nodded slowly.
Ah.
So Roark's problem wasn't just about his controversial rulings—it was that he lacked a clear stance altogether.
"In other words," Jack summarized, "his mistake wasn't leaning too far in one direction—it was trying to be everything to everyone."
Hobbs sighed. "Exactly.
He tried to please every side… but he botched it so badly that he ended up making enemies of everyone instead."
Jack finally had the missing piece.
Roark had been desperate.
His entire career had stagnated. His colleagues hated him. His own wife had thrown him out. And now, his last chance at career advancement had completely collapsed.
No wonder he snapped.
JJ, piecing it together as well, murmured, "So he cracked under the pressure. Blamed the system for his failures.
And that's why he went on a killing spree—starting with the prosecutors who worked in his courtroom."
"Wait, what?"
Hobbs looked genuinely shocked.
"Are you talking about Skip Hardy? The Saint Francis County DA?"
Jack's eyes narrowed slightly.
He hadn't expected that reaction.
"You mean… you haven't heard?" Jack studied the judge's expression closely.
"This morning, we found Skip Hardy dead in his office.
Choked to death. By Roark.
He's now wanted for four murders."
"Oh my God…"
Hobbs paled visibly. He fumbled for his phone, then hesitated and put it back in his pocket.
"This… This is unbelievable… We just finished selecting the final candidate for the appellate court vacancy today.
And one of the top choices was—"
Jack sighed. "Let me guess.
Skip Hardy was selected."
Hobbs nodded gravely.
"He was our first choice."
Jack and JJ exchanged a look.
They could already see the headlines.
"JEALOUS JUDGE MURDERS PROSECUTOR TO STEAL HIS JOB!"
Even in a place like Arkansas, this kind of scandal would spread nationwide within hours.
(End of Chapter)
[Unlock +20 Advanced Chapters on Patreon.com/Mutter]
[For every 100 Power Stones, 1 Bonus Chapter will be released]
[Thank you for reading!]