Bishop's argument made sense, so Ronik removed the man's handcuffs and put him back in the cell. Jack shrugged.
While the man looked familiar, this wasn't the world of The Matrix. As an FBI agent, Jack was naturally on the wrong side of the mafia boss.
He'd read a fair share of online novels in his previous life, and he'd developed a physical aversion to the plots where the gangsters, regardless of their position, would bow down to them, even fawning over them in various ways. Since arriving in this world, he'd never considered doing that again.
Life, after all, wasn't fiction. While it might occasionally be absurd, perhaps even more so than in the past, Jack firmly believed that
even the relationship between parents and children was a two-way street, requiring positive feedback to maintain long-term stability. Otherwise, they would become enemies sooner or later.
Jack was merely handsome, but he'd been handsome before, and he'd been ripped off when he deserved. As
the old saying goes, at 40, one is free from doubts. Someone just happened to be on that edge before crossing over. He wasn't exactly slick, but his manners were somewhat stale, at least less driven than those passionate young men who time-traveled at 18.
Without cheats, his most likely choice would have been to make a small fortune using Bitcoin and then find a safer city or a more economically developed Asian country, like Neon or Lijiaopo, to settle down comfortably.
He wouldn't have joined the LAPD, exchanging gunfire with criminals until he emptied his magazine, then joining the FBI and driving an ambulance loaded with explosives into Central Park.
Jack doesn't have a heroic complex, nor does he believe that cheats make him invincible, seeking thrills for himself and living like a gamer in a virtual world.
Quite the contrary, it's all due to his deep understanding of the reality of this world, recognizing that everyone around him is a living, breathing individual with their own independent thoughts, not just NPCs following a set program.
Perhaps he'd lived a somewhat realistic life in his previous life, due to his limited abilities. Since he'd been given the upper hand in this life, he might as well live a more idealistic and romantic life. America doesn't have its own underworld, but Jack has his own.
So, forget the big black man Bishop, even if John Wick appeared before him, Jack would prioritize both sides, perhaps even a gunfight to see who's more authentic.
It couldn't be helped. He'd been a cannon fodder in so many Hollywood blockbusters, sometimes even irrelevant to his position, simply thrown in to highlight the protagonist's prestige.
The audience wouldn't consider whether one of these innocent cannon fodder was a father or an elderly person's only child.
Similarly, in the Fast and Furious series, those bystanders who were innocently caught in the car accidents caused by the protagonists were a similar situation.
Jack had no idea what plot he was in this time. This world had been so twisted and distorted for so long that he'd grown accustomed to it.
But he could probably guess that Bishop was likely a key supporting character or even a main character in the original story. The question was, what did that have to do with him?
The big black man was right; they were indeed on the same side for now, but both Jack and John knew their place: they were there to help, and Chief Ronik was the one making the decisions.
Though veteran Officer Jasper threatened to throw Bishop out in exchange for sparing the others in the station, Ronik's objections prevented him from actually doing so.
Despite his concerns about Bishop, Ronik still tried to win over the other three prisoners, only to be rebuked before he could get a word in. Even after he told them the cops outside were murdering and silencing witnesses, he was rebuked.
"Those government-sanctioned gangsters are abusing their power again, aren't they? That's your business and that of your corrupt colleagues, not ours. Why can't you just be kind and open this rotten cage and let us out?"
The man with the red eyes spoke. Jack recalled him as having been arrested for a knife robbery at a fast-food restaurant.
The black guy who was in the same cell with him and called himself Smelly grabbed the newsboy cap he was wearing in his hand, rubbed his head which was only covered with a layer of green skin, and then followed him in agreeing, speaking with the unique RAP tone of black people.
"This mess has nothing to do with Smiley. Let Smiley go, let me go!"
Speechless, Ronik touched the pocket containing the cell key. Seeing that these guys still couldn't figure out the situation, he could only sigh helplessly and turn away.
He originally wanted to release these guys to help defend, but now it seems that the first time the cell is opened, these idiots will escape from the police station and die.
Jack and these guys have nothing to say. He hid his body in the shadows at the entrance of the passage, quietly waiting for the enemy to attack.
A burst of hurried footsteps came, heading straight for the temporary detention area. A hand suddenly stretched out in the darkness and covered Alex's mouth.
"Huh, I'm scared to death. Why are you hiding here?" With the dim light outside the window, the beautiful psychologist saw Jack's face clearly and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Are you here to see me?"
Jack placed his other hand on her back, feeling it smooth against his. He then realized she was still wearing the beautiful, low-cut, backless evening gown she'd been wearing for that New Year's Eve dinner she'd been hosting somewhere.
"They sent me to tell you there's been activity at the front door. You should be careful here too. Officer Nolan said it's probably just a bluff," Alex said, patting her trembling chest, as if she'd just recovered.
Jack looked away and nodded slightly. "Got it. Go back quickly. It's going to get very dangerous here."
He paused, then reminded her, "Remember to put on your coat."
The station's heating was supplied by hot water pipes from a nearby factory, so it hadn't been shut off by the power outage. But if they attacked, they certainly wouldn't just politely enter and then close the door.
"Got it. Be careful," Alex said, then hurried back, not sure if she'd heard Jack's next words.
Watching the graceful figure disappear down the hallway, Jack shook his head speechlessly. This was probably the most unfortunate and innocent of these people.
John's warning, delivered through Alex, was timely. Less than five minutes later, Jack heard rustling noises outside the wall. At least two men were approaching the temporary detention area.
Then, the faint sound of intense gunfire rang out from the corridor. More than one person was firing silenced assault rifles at the main entrance of the police station. Bullets crackled, shattering windows, ricocheting into the room, and ricocheting dangerously off the walls.
Ronik's plan was effective. After John and the other two used furniture like desks to block the entrance, they took shelter in corridor corners or behind supporting columns.
The old police station had been emptied of its firearms. Besides everyone's sidearms, their own forces only had two shotguns, one each for John and veteran officer Jasper.
Standing behind a window and firing at the enemy while being completely outgunned was a foolish move, so they simply gave up on the door and windows.
They were all police officers, so they were naturally familiar with the tactics of a police raid. Since there was enough space, they simply left enough space for the enemy to break in.
Most of the windows were barred, so the number of entrances that could be opened in a short period of time was limited. Once the enemy showed their heads, they would all fire at them. All were equal under shotgun shells, and wearing a bulletproof vest didn't mean they could withstand steel pellets hitting their faces.
(End of this chapter)