"System, open my status panel."
— Light of Justice: Super Hard-Boiled Cop System —
— Name: Ryan Li (Li Han)— Species: Human— Attribute Benchmark: Human Peak = 20
— Strength: 10— Agility: 11— Constitution: 10— Spirit: 12
— Core Skills —Unarmed Combat L2 – ProficientHandgun L2 – ProficientRifle L1 – SkilledSniping L1 – SkilledDriving (Automobile) L2 – ProficientReproduction L2 – ProficientChinese L3 – ExpertEnglish L2 – ProficientCooking L2 – ProficientLockpicking L1 – SkilledSwimming L2 – ProficientComputers L2 – ProficientStealth L3 – ExpertTracking L3 – ExpertIntel Analysis L2 – ProficientTheft L1 – SkilledPharmacology L2 – ProficientChemistry L2 – ProficientToxicology L2 – ProficientDisguise L2 – ProficientFirst Aid L1 – SkilledForensics L2 – Proficient
— Inventory —Storage Space: 1m³Tracking Cards ×5Bulletproof Card ×1Skill Upgrade Card ×1
— Justice Points: 500(1000 Justice Points required per lottery pull)
Ryan glanced over his stats and felt satisfied.
These were the results of years of brutal training as an elite agent—his capital for surviving in this parallel world.
The inventory was still depressingly empty. No bars of gold. No stacks of greenbacks. Yet.
He wasn't working for a people's republic anymore. He was a cop in a capitalist superpower—and if there were chances to quietly rake in some serious dough?
He had no problem with that.
Last life, he gave everything to duty.This life?
Time to enjoy what he'd missed out on.
As soon as Ryan stepped into the precinct, the room exploded.
"Whoa! Look who's back—Mr. One-Man Wrecking Crew!"
"Guy soloed five armed suspects? Freaking legend!"
"Hey Ryan, your last name's Li—are you related to Bruce Lee or something?"
"Praise the Lord! With Ryan in our squad, patrol just got a hell of a lot safer!"
"Hey stud, that true? You spent your vacation in Taylor Swift's mansion?"
Emptying your mag wasn't exactly rare in this precinct.
But doing it against five armed hostiles, alone?
That was a different league.
Normally, any patrol officer who stumbled into something that heavy would radio for backup and wait for SWAT.
Not Ryan.
He charged in and executed a flawless Mozambique Drill—two in the chest, one in the head.Click. Empty mag.Five men down.
Ryan smiled as he soaked in the praise. His rugged, handsome face seemed to glow in the morning light, radiating charisma.
Several of the female officers practically had stars in their eyes.
"Hey, Ryan! Welcome back!"
The greeting came from a burly, bearded white man—Henry Anderson, a patrol veteran with over fifteen years on the force. He was Ryan's assigned training officer and partner.
All new officers went through an 18-month probation period. During that time, they worked under a seasoned cop's supervision.
"Hey, Henry!" Ryan greeted with a shoulder slap and a grin.
"Captain wants to see you first," Henry said.
Ryan nodded and made his way to Captain Alexander Green's office.
"Captain, I'm back on duty."
Ryan saluted as he stepped inside.
"Well, well. Our super soldier has returned," Captain Green said, grinning.
Ryan's 1v5 feat had turned heads across all of L.A.'s precincts. Out of thousands of patrol officers, no one else had racked up that kind of debut record.
In this country, firing every round in your mag usually meant two things—One, a mandatory seven-day leave.Two, a full internal investigation.
But Ryan's review had been barely a formality.
First off, the hostage was Taylor Swift—a global superstar.Second, the suspects were five armed white men, resisting arrest.No LGBT affiliation. No minority issues.
"You did excellent work," Green said. "It's just… you're too new for certain commendations."
"But—I pushed for a special exception."
"Your probation period's been cut down to six months."
"Thank you, sir!"
Ryan saluted again, then headed out.
Henry met him right outside the office.
With a powerhouse like Ryan as his partner, Henry's job just got way safer.He was practically glowing with enthusiasm.
"Come on, let's head to the armory. Time to gear up and hit the streets."
"Actually…" Ryan paused. "I brought my own."
Using your own firearm as a duty weapon came with perks—mainly, you could take it home.No turning it in after every shift.
A massive boost in safety.
"Oh, that's easy. Just register it at the armory," Henry said casually.
But the moment Ryan pulled out a TTI Combat Viper, Henry's eyes went wide.
"Sh*t! That's a Viper!"
"Eight grand a pop! Ryan, are you secretly a trust-fund baby?"
Most patrol officers made five or six grand a month—pre-tax.
Spending two months' pay on a handgun?
Ludicrous.
Henry stared at the sleek pistol in awe and envy.
"Damn… this thing's sexy."
Ryan gave a small shrug. "Didn't buy it. It was a gift."
His public record showed he was an orphan who made it through college on scholarships and welfare.
For someone like that, owning a $600 pistol was impressive.But this?
One Viper cost more than a fully-loaded HK416.
Henry's jaw dropped.
He remembered the rumors floating around the precinct.
Ryan had taken leave after his shootout—and left the building in a Rolls-Royce Cullinan.
People whispered it was Taylor Swift's car.
"Wait… wait wait wait—that was from Taylor?"
Ryan gave a casual nod. "She gave me two."
"Sh*t!!"
Henry gawked, then muttered under his breath, eyes full of envy.
"That woman's the damn Rose of America! Christ… if I patrol with you, I'm scared her fans'll throw Molotovs at me!"