Jimmy stood not far outside Hughes' office, pondering what Hughes really meant when he suddenly heard someone call him.

Turning around, he saw Peter and a young man walking towards him. Peter was still in a suit and leather shoes, while the person next to him looked a bit out of place, or rather, Jimmy was jealous of his good looks. He was about the same height as Jimmy, wearing a black suit, a white shirt with a black tie, and a narrow-brimmed fedora on his head. It had to be said, he was quite an eye-catcher.

Peter: "Hi, Jimmy."

Jimmy: "Hi, Peter. How's it going? Who's this?"

Peter, pointing to the person beside him: "Neil Cavrey, art consultant. This is Agent Jimmy Yang."

Jimmy and Neil shook hands, "Jimmy Yang, nice to meet you, Mr. Cavrey!"

After releasing his hand, Jimmy looked at Peter: "Looks like you've been busy this past month, even bringing in a consultant. Is there a big case?"

Peter: "It's just the previous case, we needed his cooperation. How about you? How's Dallas treating you?"

Jimmy smiled: "You know I'm from the South, life there is pretty much the same, I'm getting used to it."

Peter: "Good to have you back. Has Hughes sorted everything out?"

Jimmy: "Not yet, I need to think about where to rest now. Oh, this tragic life, I don't even have a table anymore."

Peter patted Jimmy's arm: "Don't worry, Hughes will arrange it. By the way, your stuff is with Jones, remember to get him to move it over once you have a spot."

Jimmy: "Alright, I understand. You go ahead, I'll take a walk around."

Peter: "Go ahead."

After that, Peter took Neil upstairs to his office.

Neil: "Such a young agent, which department is he from?"

Peter: "Young? He's actually a year older than you, Neil. He was previously in our group, but then he was reassigned to the Dallas office."

Neil's eyes widened: "You're joking! He looks at most 21, 22 years old."

Peter, with a smirk, looking through the glass at Jimmy downstairs: "Maybe it's an ethnic gift, Asians tend to look younger, but he was indeed born in '76, a year older than you."

Peter stopped looking outside and bent down to tidy his desk. Neil turned to look outside instead.

Peter: "By the way, Neil, if you don't want to die, stay away from him."

Neil turned back sharply, looking at Peter: "Why? How would I die?"

Peter, without looking up: "Don't underestimate him because he's young. In less than three years, at least 50 criminals have died by his hand. Listen clearly, at least.

There might be others that I don't know about, like his recent reassignment to the Dallas office. My goodness, who knows what he would do in the South."

Neil: "Holy shit! Are you guys the FBI or an assassin group? He's killed so many people without being investigated? How can such a person be here?"

Peter looked up at Neil's expression and continued tidying: "Never mind why he's here, he is here. So, I'm telling you to stay away from him. In his eyes, there's no discrepancy among criminals, remember your identity, and don't provoke him."

Neil turned his head again towards the downstairs, Jimmy had already disappeared, he involuntarily shivered. Good Lord, he had only been in prison for a few years, had the world changed so much?

...

Jimmy went downstairs to confirm his belongings with Jones. Jones had already packed them in a cardboard box and stored them away. That settled, he now just waited for Hughes to assign him a spot.

As Jimmy turned to leave, he suddenly remembered something. Jones had paid a month's rent for him, which he hadn't paid back yet. Checking his wallet, Jimmy decided to give up on paying him back right now; no one carries that much cash on them unless there's trouble.

Since he hadn't mentioned it to Jones, he decided to go back home to get the money and pay him directly at his house. Paying back in the office felt somehow awkward.

Jimmy couldn't find a seat in Peter's area in the white-collar unit, so he had to turn back and look for Ruiz, to see if there was a lounge area where he could temporarily stay. It's pitiful, to be a genuine FBI agent, albeit a trainee, and yet not find a desk in his own office building.

Ruiz had already left, and Jimmy found himself at a dead end. He toughened up and headed straight to the pantry to zone out, at least he could nab a cup of coffee.

A day of idleness ended just like that, and Jimmy did not receive any notification from Hughes all day, leaving him anxious and uncertain about what to do.

After work, he went to withdraw money and directly delivered it to Jones' house. That way, paying back felt more proper. Fortunately, he remembered this today, otherwise, he would surely have forgotten it later, becoming an unreliable person would not be good.

For the next two days, Jimmy became the pantry's manager, quite the exhibit, watched by passerby like an animal in a zoo.

Hughes, for some reason, had not assigned Jimmy a position, and on the third day, after Jimmy had asked once, he was simply turned away. His days as the pantry manager and biped continued.

Jimmy was reading a newspaper with New York news when his FBI phone suddenly rang.

Jimmy: "Ruiz, what's up?"

Ruiz: "Jimmy, are you in the office?"

Jimmy: "Yeah, I haven't been reassigned yet."

Ruiz: "Come over to Brooklyn, the Puerto Rico area."

Jimmy: "Alright, I'm on my way."

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