Jones: "Two years ago, someone sold a 17th-century Dutch oil painting, yet that painting was a counterfeit. The authentic one is collected by an ancient European noble family, and it has been confirmed that the original has not been lost. Through verification, we can determine the age of the original painting without error. However, the forgery is of such a high standard that several oil painting experts were almost unable to confirm its authenticity."

"We have been investigating this case for a long time, and we have named him 'the Dutchman,' you know, the Flying Dutchman, that ghost ship. However, he previously had contact with Europe under the code name 'Snow White,' so he is also called Snow White."

Jimmy nodded, saw that Jones had stopped talking, and asked, "What happened next?"

Jones: "We've been chasing the Dutchman, but every time we get a bit of a clue, he just vanishes. Over time, the case has been dragged on for so long that now we mostly continue to follow up during breaks in other cases."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, "Great, looks like it's another dead-end case."

Jimmy turned back to his seat, waiting for Peter's call from the other side. Since it was an old case resuming, they would certainly be assigned tasks.

Diana took the file upstairs, and then started talking in the office with Peter. Jimmy occasionally looked back at Peter's office, but he never saw his summons.

As time ticked away to the end of the workday, Jimmy had not been assigned any tasks, but Jones and Diana had both been assigned investigative work, spending the afternoon on the computer searching something.

Jimmy didn't have the authority, and now he didn't have the qualifications to look up information, so without field work, he could only continue to be bored.

When quitting time came, Peter came out of the office, greeted everyone, and left. Jimmy also picked up his clothes and went downstairs. The working hours here were very stable. The kind of overtime outside in the past two to three weeks was strictly abnormal. For Peter and his colleagues in the white-collar group, there really wasn't much overtime.

Jimmy was in a good mood today, his boasting was successful, and he even went to the restaurant in the evening to treat himself to an extra meal. When he got home, Jimmy changed into casual clothes, threw himself onto the sofa, and while watching television, thought about his future life.

The current days were rather boring, even less satisfying than his time with the county police. Although the city was small and the population was low, he had lots of things to keep him busy. Now, despite wearing the FBI badge, dealing with these mundane cases every day failed to rouse his spirits.

The past three weeks, except for the slight excitement during the two shootouts, were mostly spent on various surveillances and reading files. Of course, he understood that this was a necessary process as a probationary agent, as it was for everyone. But, it would be best if he could add some fun to these days.

It seems he needed to pick up a hobby for himself, but what to pick?

While mulling over this, Jimmy whittled away the time and then went straight to bed.

The next day, Jimmy encountered Peter right as he arrived at the office, while the others hadn't come in yet. Peter had come in early today.

Jimmy: "Hi, Peter, you're early today."

Peter: "Yes, I woke up early this morning, so I came over early."

Jimmy: "Do we have any plans for today?"

Peter: "Don't be in a hurry, we'll discuss it when everyone gets here." Peter said this and headed upstairs, while Jimmy began tidying up his desk.

Once the others had arrived, Peter gathered everyone in the conference room.

Peter: "The Dutchman has been our old friend for a while, and you're all quite familiar with him. The latest clue is a suspected case in which someone using the name 'Snow White' contacted an intermediary. At the moment, we don't know what the merchandise is. Diana, you continue investigating those who have had contact with the Dutchman before, see if there are other clues. Jones, assist Diana. Jimmy, you don't have a task for now."

After assigning tasks, a few people left the conference room.

"Peter, come here a moment." Before going downstairs, Jimmy heard Hughes call Peter. He turned and entered Hughes's office.

Hughes: "Peter, Jimmy will be temporarily dispatched to Ruiz for a while. Get ready and inform Jimmy."

Peter frowned, "Is it settled then?"

Hughes nodded, and Peter had nothing to say; he walked out of Hughes's office and called upstairs, "Jimmy, come up."

Jimmy glanced back, turned around, and left his seat to go upstairs.

Peter said, "Get ready, Jimmy. You'll be temporarily transferred to Ruiz for a few days."

Jimmy looked at Peter with widened eyes, "Why?"

Peter replied, "There's no why. Just follow the higher-ups' arrangements. Go ahead, you'll be back in a few days."

Jimmy nodded, "Okay, then I'll go to Ruiz."

Peter waved his hand, "Go ahead."

Ruiz was also there, just not on the same side as Peter's office, but on the other end.

Jimmy had nothing in particular to prepare since he was only being transferred temporarily, not moving house. He didn't bring the miscellaneous stuff on his desk but went to Ruiz's office empty-handed, taking only his gun with him.

Ruiz, like Peter, had a private office. Jimmy knocked and entered, "Ruiz."

Ruiz looked up to see Jimmy, stood up, and invited him to sit down. "Welcome, Jimmy. You've been temporarily transferred here to help out for a few days. I hope we can work well together."

Jimmy said, "Don't mention it; Peter already told me. May I ask which case it is?"

Ruiz replied, "Let's walk and talk."

Ruiz stood up, took Jimmy downstairs, and reached the parking lot. Ruiz started the car and they left Federal Square. It seemed that Ruiz was already familiar with Jimmy's information. Since Jimmy wasn't allocated a vehicle yet, he was currently sitting in the passenger seat of Ruiz's car.

Ruiz said, "I know you used to be county police in Arkansas. The case we're handling involves the southern gangs, specifically the Dixie family."

Jimmy asked, "The Dixie family? Isn't 'Dixie' a generic term for the southern states? Which family exactly?"

Ruiz explained, "It seems you didn't cross paths with them during your time as county police. Indeed, the term 'old Dixie folks' generally refers to people from the southern states. However, the 'Dixie family' we speak of doesn't refer to a collective term for all southern gangs—usually, it refers specifically to the Dixie Jones family.

The exact birth and death of Dixie Jones are now beyond research, but the family has a history of at least a century. They claim to be the Dixie family.

The Dixie family mainly engages in smuggling and drug trafficking businesses and extends their reach to several southern states. We still haven't pinpointed the true center of their family.

This time, someone claiming to be the Dixie family has established contact with a gang here in New York. We have reasons to believe their business involves smuggling and narcotics."

Seeing that Ruiz had paused, Jimmy took the initiative to ask, "Which gang in New York? The Mafia?"

Ruiz glanced at Jimmy, then turned his attention back to the road ahead; he was driving after all, and couldn't afford not to watch the road.

Ruiz continued, "The Italian Mafia certainly has many members and great influence, and is difficult to eradicate, but the largest families steer clear of narcotics.

You're an FBI agent now; you need to read more. Not everything rumored on the street is true. The ones that truly trouble us are other organizations, like the Camorra, the Glory Society, and our current target, the Holy Crown Alliance."

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