While Jimmy was resting, Lambert couldn't get any rest. Jimmy had been in Dallas for nearly two months already, as an intern agent on cross-district assignment. This duration was so outrageous that Hughes had made several calls lately, pushing Lambert to release him.

Lambert genuinely liked Jimmy. He didn't cut corners or play tricks, managed everything assigned to him properly without mistakes. He had a good personality and character. He devoted himself to solve a shooting case for his former boss in just a week, and incidentally presented the small Midtown office with a big gift—the capture of William, which directly solved several pending cases.

Key was the fact that his combat skills were extremely high, and he even had special abilities, acknowledged by Priest Horton—a super scarce resource. Their whole office didn't have anyone like him; all the people with special abilities were in the headquarters' special squads, and they had to ask others for help in emergency situations.

However, it was of no use. Jimmy's position wasn't in Dallas unless he could persuade headquarters to make a direct personnel arrangement, which was not easy. Headquarters also had to consider the opinion of the Manhattan supervisor; they couldn't just transfer someone on a whim.

After Jimmy finished the missing persons case, Lambert let him rest. He was still considering whether to assign another case to him and delay his departure. If they got along well over time, Jimmy might be willing to transfer here, which would serve Lambert's purpose. Unfortunately, it still wasn't feasible. Hughes, perhaps because he was approaching retirement and needed to prearrange things for the Manhattan office, had recently become unyielding.

In the end, Lambert made the decision: there was no point in arguing with a soon-to-be retiree. He would just send him back.

When Jimmy received the notification from the administrative department, he went to Lambert's office, where Lambert made an exception to share a drink with Jimmy during working hours, to bid him farewell.

Jimmy was also rather reluctant to leave this place. The biggest advantage in Dallas was that he mostly worked alone on assignments, had no constraints, and wasn't bogged down by too many rules. As long as the outcomes were good and he could manage the process himself, it was indeed comfortable—reminding him a bit of his days as a county police in Midtown.

But there was no helping it. Since he had decided to join the FBI, he had to abide by its rules. He belonged to the Manhattan office and naturally couldn't stay in Dallas indefinitely.

After bidding farewell to Lambert, Jimmy drove to meet Ray, who had almost fully recovered and was about to return to work. Just as Jimmy was preparing to leave, the two had dinner at Ray's home. Ray's family also thanked Jimmy for saving Ray; if Jimmy hadn't acted fast, Ray definitely wouldn't have escaped the robbers' subsequent shots.

Jimmy didn't leave his car for Ray but instead drove for another day. He tried calling Roland but couldn't get through. He drove straight to Roland's house, only to discover that Roland had been gone for some time, as the doorway was covered with a lot of dust. If someone had been home, they would have cleaned it.

Not having seen Roland, Jimmy didn't press the matter. But he did call James and Cage in Midtown, and then went to the Dallas office to return the borrowed equipment. He took two suitcases and embarked on his journey back to New York.

When he first came to Dallas to see Roland, he had brought only a backpack, and now he was returning to New York with two suitcases. It was somewhat humorous; Jimmy hadn't considered when buying things whether he could manage to take so much back, realizing only when packing that one suitcase wouldn't be enough.

Taking a taxi back to his apartment, Jimmy opened the door, and, good grief, there was a noticeable layer of dust everywhere—on the floor, furniture, and bed—even though he had closed the windows and doors before leaving. However, dust was omnipresent.

He put the suitcases in the room and immediately went downstairs to see the apartment manager for a housekeeping cleaning service number and arranged an emergency cleaning. It would cost a bit more, but it was the fastest way to move back into his room. Cleaning it himself, he didn't know when he'd finish.

Professionals are indeed different. Two cleaners arrived, and in half an hour, the house was sparkling clean. They were responsible only for cleaning the surface of the room; clothes and other items covered in dust had to be taken care of by Jimmy himself and sent to the laundromat.

Busy until evening, Jimmy was finally able to relax. He ordered a pizza and grabbed a coke from the fridge to enjoy while watching TV on the sofa.

The next day, Jimmy arrived early at Federal Square. However, when he reached Ruiz's office, he found that his old place had already been taken by someone else, as there was a computer and some personal items on the desk which weren't there when he used it.

Since the office staff hadn't arrived yet and Jimmy no longer had a place, he could only make his way around to Peter's side. At least he hoped his own spot would still be there.

Overthinking it, Jimmy previously sat at the frontmost desk, and now that desk was also covered with stuff, and none of it was his.

Jimmy looked around, there was no one there yet—he had arrived early. With nothing else to do, Jimmy headed straight to the conference room, pulled over a chair, lay down, propped his legs on the desk, pulled down his cowboy hat over his face, and began to rest with his eyes closed.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

Jimmy was suddenly awakened by a voice. He pushed back his hat and turned his head to look, quickly placing his feet down from the desk and standing up.

Jimmy, "Hughes, good morning, I'm back."

The one who had just spoken was Hughes, the manager of Manhattan. The old man was in his usual suit today, his short white hair neatly flattened on his head, obviously well-groomed.

Hughes, "Jimmy, why did you come today? Is there something you need?"

Jimmy, puzzled, said, "I'm here for work! I just got back yesterday."

Hughes looked at Jimmy, gestured at his watch, and asked, "Do you know what day of the week it is today?"

Jimmy shook his head; his days had been chaotic, and he hadn't noticed what day of the week it was—he just came to work after getting up in the morning.

Hughes waved his hand, "Today is Saturday, go back and rest, report back on Monday. By the way, change into a different outfit next time."

Jimmy stared at Hughes, his days really were a blur. Back in Dallas, between working cases and taking vacations, he never had a regular five-day workweek, so he had forgotten the day of the week and made a big blunder.

Also, he was used to heading out in casual clothes wearing his cowboy hat in the morning, something the old-school Hughes really couldn''t stand.

Jimmy, "Yes, Sir! Goodbye, Hughes."

Hughes turned and left the conference room, entering his own office, while Jimmy put on his hat and left Federal Square as well.

He checked the time, 9:30 AM. What to do now? He certainly couldn't just go back and continue sleeping.

As Jimmy strolled along the street, he thought it over; forget it, he'd call Mary and swing by her place for some tea and a bit of relaxation.

Jimmy called Dr. Mary and arranged to meet at her studio; he then took a cab to Midtown Manhattan.

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