Chapter 57: The Barbecue Party (Please Keep Reading! Please Add to Favorites!)

Monday, 7:50 in the morning.

In the parking lot of the Jacob Federal Building, a Chevrolet rolled to a gentle stop. Roan unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, followed by Ryder, whose physique was solid and imposing.

“I’m going to grab a black coffee, Roan,” Ryder said, glancing down at his watch and noticing there was still plenty of time before work officially started. He gestured toward the café across the parking lot, smiled at Roan, and asked, “You want one?”

“Of course! But just a regular coffee for me—remember to add sugar and milk,” Roan replied with a wry smile. “I have a weakness for sweets.”

“OK.” Ryder grinned, nodded, and turned to head toward the café.

Roan patted his somewhat heavy head and walked into the Federal Building.

After August handed out the bonuses on Saturday, the agents left the office area without hesitation, each returning home to enjoy their weekend. Several agents had invited Roan to their homes, but he politely declined with a smile, eager to take care of his new apartment now that his pay and bonus were in hand.

Thanks to a word from someone higher up, the process of purchasing and transferring the apartment was simple and quick. By midday, Roan was holding the keys and the relevant contracts.

Next came the matter of renovation.

The previous owner’s taste was bizarre; after surveying each room, Roan was left at a loss and decided to gut everything and start from scratch.

He didn’t know much about renovations, but he was well aware of the potential pitfalls. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone to seek help.

Mona was out of the question—not only was she tied up talking with August, but her own apartment had come pre-furnished, so she couldn’t help him.

Lacey was another dead end. Although she claimed to rent, she spent most of her time with other women in hotels. If he asked her for help, she’d probably just hand him a stack of business cards for women who worked at renovation companies.

So Roan set his sights on Ryder. Ryder was married, had a child, and ran a gun shop from home—renovation was right up his alley. As luck would have it, Ryder had recently invited Roan to visit his shop, so Roan didn’t hesitate; after making a call, he bought some beef and liquor, then drove the Chevrolet to Queens.

Ryder’s wife was named Yvonne, a former NYPD officer from Texas.

During an operation, a stray bullet injured Yvonne’s right eye. Though her life was spared, she was left blind in that eye and now wore a dark patch across her brow.

Despite it all, Yvonne’s spirits remained high. After Ryder introduced them, she promptly handed her son to Ryder and dragged Roan out back to the gun shop for a target-shooting contest.

After a series of sharp cracks from their pistols, Yvonne and Roan became fast friends.

Ryder could only watch in silence.

That night, they held a barbecue in Ryder’s backyard. Thanks to Yvonne’s introductions, Roan met a whole host of Texas rednecks. There were a few who tried to pick a fight, but after Roan downed a strength potion with his drink and beat everyone at arm wrestling, he was instantly accepted as a brother of Texas.

Again, Ryder could only look on.

Roan drank a bit too much at the barbecue, so he slept over at Ryder’s house. The next morning, as he rose groggily and finished washing up, Yvonne burst into the guest room with a bottle of liquor.

She insisted that the best cure for a hangover was to have another drink.

Roan politely declined, shaking his head, and quickly explained his need for help with the apartment renovation.

Both Yvonne and Ryder assured him it was no trouble at all, vowing to help him find a renovation company that was reliable, honest, and reasonably priced.

And then, another barbecue ensued.

Roan could only sigh.

After the Lydia incident, Roan’s system had rated his performance as excellent, and the reward chest yielded: [Stamina Potion x1, Strength Potion x1, Antidote x1, Danger Sense Potion x1].

As for the two recent parties, the system rated them as satisfactory, yielding [Stamina Potion x1, Weakness Potion x1] and [Strength Potion x1, Sleep Potion x1].

At this moment, Roan’s system inventory contained: [Stamina Potion x4, Fire Resistance Potion x1, Night Vision Potion x2, Rebreather Potion x1, Strength Potion x2, Agility Potion x1, Antidote x1, Danger Sense Potion x1, Weakness Potion x1, Sleep Potion x1].

Taking the elevator up to the floor of the Jacob Federal Building, Roan stepped out as the doors opened and nearly collided with Team Leader Brosen and several of his subordinates.

“Good morning, sir,” Roan greeted them with a polite grin as he exited.

Brosen shot Roan a cold glance without replying and walked straight into the elevator.

One of the men behind him, a white man in a suit with a sullen expression, snorted as he passed Roan but said nothing.

Roan raised an eyebrow—he didn’t recognize the man.

As the elevator doors slid shut, Roan’s lips curled into a faint smile, and he turned to enter the Fifth Investigation Unit.

Inside the elevator, the sullen-faced white man was Matthews.

Having followed Brosen for a decade, Matthews didn’t hesitate when Brosen was reassigned as supervisor of the newly established Fourteenth Investigation Unit. He left the First Unit without a second thought to join his longtime leader.

As the elevator descended, Matthews was silent for a moment, then quietly asked Brosen, “Sir, the Fifth Unit still has that unsolved serial murder case. Should we...?”

“Leave them alone for now,” Brosen replied after a complicated glance at his veteran subordinate. “Focus on our own caseload. Just keep an eye on them; if I don’t give an order, you take no action.”

“Yes, sir,” Matthews nodded. The elevator doors opened, and he quickly followed Brosen out.

Back in the Fifth Unit, Mona had yet to arrive, and Lacey was napping at her desk. Roan glanced around the office, then sat beside a male technician who was drinking coffee while chatting online.

Lowering his voice, Roan asked, “Morning, William. Any news about Brosen, the new team supervisor?”

William Miller, standing at 178 centimeters, with deep-set features and a lean build, was one of the Fifth Unit’s technical specialists. Depending on the case, he usually liaised with other government agencies outside the FBI—such as the CIA and NSA.

But in Roan’s eyes, William’s greatest talent was his uncanny ability to learn anything new happening in any corner of the building almost instantly, thanks to his countless friends.

Even Lacey, who came from the intelligence division, couldn’t match him in this regard.