Chapter 13

PS. Here's today's update, and I'm also taking the opportunity to promote the 515 Fan Festival on Qidian. Everyone has 8 votes, and voting also gives you Qidian coins. I humbly request your support and appreciation!

After a simple lunch, Du Qian continued his patrol, recognizing people. After the shooting incident, Feng Bao had become more talkative, seemingly showing some aversion to Du Qian: "I'll write your patrol log for you tonight. Just copy it tomorrow, and remember not to make any mistakes or changes. Some things you'll understand over time. Being a patrol officer has its own set of rules; you can't just act recklessly, as that can harm both others and yourself."

"Yes... thief..." Du Qian responded, his eyes fixed on a parking spot. A thin man with a mustache had just successfully stolen something. The victim was a middle-aged man, and from his clothes, it was clear he was a dock laborer.

"Keep quiet, don't see anything." Feng Bao pulled back Du Qian, who was about to rush forward. New recruits are always troublesome. Different new recruits require different methods. If it were the previous Miss Mi, you wouldn't be able to hold her back, and Feng Bao wouldn't dare to, as her background was too strong, unlike Du Qian.

"But?" Du Qian was confused again. Ignoring smugglers, shopkeepers, and thieves, what exactly do patrol officers do? They can't just wander around the dock all day, right?

"Du Qian, this world is full of wonders, and existence is reasonable. Our Fisherman's Dock is a small world with its own ecosystem. If you disrupt one part, it will affect another, eventually destroying the entire ecosystem. Our duty as patrol officers is to maintain the balance of this ecosystem. For other matters, observe more and intervene less. Remember, don't draw your gun lightly." Feng Bao said earnestly.

This... sounds so grand. Should these words come from a small patrol officer like Feng Bao?

Suddenly, Du Qian had the illusion that the person beside him wasn't the honest patrol officer Feng Bao, but the Emperor of the Empire.

"Thieves, ruffians, delinquents, and smugglers will never be eradicated. You catch one batch, and another will come. Each batch is different. Why not let the most familiar and rule-abiding batch survive? It makes management easier."

Du Qian felt more and more uneasy as he listened. Should a patrol officer say such things? Thieves and soldiers are natural enemies.

Seemingly guessing Du Qian's thoughts, Feng Bao continued: "Is the Empire the only one who is smart? Do the people in these gray areas pose no threat? Have thousands of years of different systems solved this problem? You might as well save your energy."

Du Qian felt his mind turn to mush, losing the ability to distinguish right from wrong. Feng Bao's words sounded strange, but upon deeper reflection, they seemed quite reasonable.

"It's like mosquitoes. They're annoying, they suck blood, and spread diseases. Humans have tried to eliminate them, but is it possible? Who knows, if mosquitoes were completely eradicated, we humans might be in trouble."

Feng Bao's analogy was a bit off, but Du Qian really listened.

While chatting, walking, and recognizing people, it was around three in the afternoon when they reached a teahouse. Du Qian squeezed through the crowd: "Two iced teas, two donuts."

There were many people around, so it was a bit crowded. Something hard hit his waist. Du Qian's body sensitivity was quite high, and he stiffened, feeling the outline of the hard object.

After a few seconds, Du Qian regained his composure, holding the tea and donuts he bought at a discount, and slowly walked to Feng Bao, handing him one.

"Good, iced tea with donuts, perfect for this season." Feng Bao was very satisfied. Patrol officers aren't rich, but they don't lack this small amount of money. Du Qian's initiative to treat him twice made his mood much better, at least this kid knew how to respect his seniors.

"Uncle Feng, did you see the tall guy with the black face?" Du Qian asked while eating a donut, pretending to be casual.

"Uh-huh!" Feng Bao responded without even turning his head.

"He has a gun." Du Qian trusted his instincts; the hard object that hit his waist was definitely a gun.

Guns are not banned in the Empire; any adult can buy one. You can own a gun, but you can't bring it to public places, which is illegal.

"I know, he also has a flashbang on his right leg." Feng Bao's expression was truly calm, unlike Du Qian, who was pretending.

"What should we do? Call for backup?" Du Qian asked. In his opinion, he and Uncle Feng could handle it; they can't all be martial cultivators.

Martial cultivators are very proud; light weapons pose no threat to them, and they look down on such things, rarely carrying guns.

"Hehe..." Feng Bao laughed strangely, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. This kid caused a big mess in the morning but learned quickly in the afternoon. In this line of work, it's not a problem if you don't understand, but it's a problem if you don't learn.

"That guy is from our bureau, the criminal investigation team's heavy case group, Jiang Decheng. It seems he's working on a case, which isn't our jurisdiction."

"He's a detective." Feng Bao's words surprised Du Qian. This is the benefit of knowing people; a glance can tell you who they are, unlike Du Qian, who lives in constant worry.

"Right, and he's a skilled detective, with at least 15,000 combat power."

He is indeed a martial cultivator, but Du Qian could understand why he carried a gun. As a detective, it's necessary to have the proper equipment, even if it's not used.

"Du Qian, the police bureau has many intricacies. The four departments, excluding internal affairs, which require high-caliber talent, have high educational requirements. The threshold for the criminal investigation team is not low; the minimum combat power requirement is 5,000, and most detectives are martial cultivators. Our sub-bureau is always short-handed, but you can't recruit enough people. Unlike us patrol officers, even a dog can be a patrol officer if it wears a police uniform."

These words might not be very pleasant to hear, but they are true. The patrol officers are the most numerous in the Precious Treasure Sub-bureau, but there are always not enough police. The biggest shortage is not in the patrol officers but in the detectives and the Flying Tigers.

"Uncle Feng, what are the requirements for the Flying Tigers?" Du Qian asked curiously. His junior Yao Jing seemed to want to join the Flying Tigers, but her combat power was too extraordinary, making her a poor reference.

"The Flying Tigers are our bureau's ultimate combat force. The minimum requirement for new recruits is 30,000 combat power, and both hands must have completed spirit weapons." Feng Bao, as an old patrol officer, knew everything.

"What about the guy I met today?"

"His combat power is just over 10,000. His right hand's spirit weapon is mostly formed but not complete, so he's just over 10,000." Despite the distance, Feng Bao's eyesight was much better than Du Qian's.

Du Qian realized that Uncle Feng was truly remarkable. There was no question he couldn't answer, knowing everything under heaven and earth. Such a talent was just a small patrol officer?

"What are you thinking? You fool, if you work here for thirty years and still don't know these things, you've wasted your life. Your memory is good, better than mine when I was young. If you stay here for a few years, just three, you'll reach my level. Your perspective is too low; it will improve with time." Feng Bao seemed to read Du Qian's thoughts, seeing right through him.

Though he spoke lightly, seeing Du Qian's surprised, admiring, and even slightly worshipful eyes, Feng Bao felt very pleased and satisfied.

To be able to guess this...

At five o'clock, they finished work, and the next shift of patrol officers had already arrived. In pairs, they seemed to have a much harder time than the day shift, with longer hours, colder weather, stronger sea winds, and higher risks.

Du Qian had no experience, but by the end of the day, he felt his knowledge had increased significantly. The Fisherman's Dock at night was much quieter than during the day, with fewer ships and people, and seemingly less work.

But with a bit of thought, it was clear that smuggling is safer at night. Patrol officers don't manage smuggling, but if they encounter it, you can't avoid it.

From what Feng Bao had said, the night shift patrol officers had a death rate six times higher than the day shift. Of course, the Fisherman's Dock was relatively safe, with very few patrol officer deaths each year, sometimes none at all.

Driving the patrol car back to the sub-bureau, he swiped his card to clock out. The patrol squad had too many tasks and didn't have the morning and evening meetings like the detectives and the Flying Tigers; they usually only had a morning meeting once a week.

Back home, Du Qian felt very tired. Walking all day wasn't a problem for someone with over 5,000 combat power, almost reaching 6,000, but the mental fatigue was real. Being a patrol officer wasn't easy; there was so much to learn.

Indeed, he was just a young, inexperienced kid. At the dock, there was almost nothing he understood, and he needed Uncle Feng's guidance for everything. Du Qian genuinely appreciated the honest Uncle Feng.

Oh, and that fish. After putting the fish away, Du Qian kept thinking, wondering if there was a bundle of cash inside. A fish weighing five to six pounds wasn't worth the trouble for a manager from the Snowfall Trading Company to deliver personally; they could have sent someone else.

From Feng Bao's eyes, he saw a hint of envy. A fish alone wouldn't make a patrol officer show such an expression. What was the secret?

Tearing open the oil paper around the fish, Du Qian plopped down on the cold kitchen tiles: "Damn... it's really just a fish."

Of course, it's a fish, but not an ordinary one. Du Qian knew his knowledge and experience were limited, but he wouldn't mistake this fish. It was a spirit fish.

He had seen many fishing boats unload their cargo, with three types of fish sorted by the sorting machine. One type was the most common sea fish, sold directly to restaurants or processed into canned goods. Another type was damaged fish, sold at half price.

The third type, when sorted, had security guards standing on both sides of the conveyor belt. The fish sorted out were the spirit fish, like the one in front of him.

The world has spiritual energy, which can be absorbed and converted into combat power. Not only humans can absorb spiritual energy and convert it into combat power; animals and even plants can do the same.

Like humans, not all animals and plants can do this; only a small portion have this innate ability.

Fish that can absorb spiritual energy and convert it into combat power are called spirit fish.

[The 515 Fan Festival is coming soon. I hope to continue to impact the 515 Red Packet List, and on May 15th, the red packet rain can reward readers and promote the work. Even a small donation is love, and I will definitely update well!]

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