North America Gunman Detective

Chapter 1532 - 822: Dust Settles

At the Hughes' home, Jimmy managed to enjoy a dinner but refrained from drinking alcohol. He had to drive home and take care of the kids, so he didn't dare drink too much, just a sip of beer while chatting seemed harmless.

Leaving Hughes' place, Jimmy had already envisioned the end of his career path for the next few years. Clearly, some people had consulted Hughes on this matter, whether out of respect for him or because of Jimmy's relationship with Hughes. When considering Jimmy's future direction, they had to take into account Hughes' opinion, and what Hughes said was likely already a consensus they had reached.

Don't think just because Hughes isn't the head of the New York office that he holds no status. Anyone who has been rehired multiple times and has firmly seated as the Assistant Supervisory Special Agent, having been with the FBI for over 30 years, surely isn't to be underestimated.

For now, it remains unclear whether it's because of Jimmy's Chinese identity or some other reason. There must be something that makes them wary of Jimmy, not wanting him to progress further but also not wanting him to leave the FBI directly. Otherwise, they wouldn't bother promoting him to a Supervisory Special Agent; they could have simply kept him at the Senior Agent level. It's not unheard of for an agent to remain a Senior Agent for several or even decades. For him to rise from a trainee agent to a Supervisory Special Agent in 7 years is a truly rapid pace.

Jimmy felt quite frustrated, but upon returning home, he had to shift his mood. It wouldn't be good to bring these troubling matters home for Nia to notice.

Roland was very straightforward with Jimmy, listing a whole set of daily necessities and food items. Once Jimmy confirmed them, he went directly for procurement, mainly because Jimmy was the one footing the bill.

Previously, Roland had no worries about money. With his disregard for legal matters, most major U.S. cities had places that he considered his personal cash machines. Being Black himself, he often went unnoticed in certain situations.

Now, frequent trips to the Dark Tower World meant less time spent here, making it inconvenient to visit his 'cash machines'. The key was that the identities of Jimmy and Nia were very crucial, so Jimmy had already addressed this with Roland a long time ago. With Jimmy having ample money, whether clean or cash, as long as Roland didn't plan to move an armory into the basement, there was surely enough.

Modern society's abundance couldn't be further from the medieval environment of the Dark Tower World. Bringing more resources each trip allowed Roland to survive there for a long time, ensuring a decent quality of life. The only issue was the current state of the ruins—still deserted since its former inhabitants had perished. At present, Roland was its sole new resident.

Procurement required some time, so Roland would always store purchases in the basement, and once finished with all the buying, transport them all at once.

Having returned for some time, Jimmy suddenly received a call from Alejandro, informing him that he would soon be contacted. Later, a lawyer, dressed in suit and tie, handed him a file. Inside was information about a company involved in car parts sales, headquartered in Houston with its factory in Mexico, and somehow, Jimmy had become one of its shareholders.

The lawyer turned out to be the company's legal advisor. From his ties with the company Alejandro arranged, it was evident that this guy was no pushover.

The company deals in the production and sale of auto parts, naturally requiring frequent trips across the U.S.-Mexico border. While the CIA might not consider a company a big deal, the nature of this company's business drew attention.

Man, Alejandro and his team sure were bold. Jimmy thought that by letting him handle the aftermath, at least there would be some mutual benefit, making future dealings smoother. A little goodwill goes a long way. Instead, they gave him this surprise.

Though uncertain of what a small share could do for him, as a shareholder, he was entitled to dividends. Meaning, if they were to give him a share, the dividends would come clean as company payouts. Their thoughtfulness was impressive.

Jimmy didn't refuse their gesture. Even though it seemed like they were tying him to a boat, having collaborated twice already, his identity held some intimidation for Alejandro. He likely wouldn't betray him. Better to play along—rejecting could cause misunderstandings.

He tucked the lawyer's business card back into the safe along with the file. Now, it was a matter of waiting to see when Alejandro would declare the dividends.

Sometimes, it felt like those operating in the shadows had a certain code of conduct. Be it Justin, the Continental Hotel, or even the CIA, although these so-called rules weren't backed by anything solid, they ensured that no one stooped to backstabbing, excluding that time when those CIA folks ambushed him at the passageway entrance—those scumbags deserved to rot in Hell.

"This is the last box." Roland carried a carton into Jimmy's house, down the stairs to the basement to stash it. Jimmy stood on the stairs, observing as Roland counted the boxes and nodded, then accompanied Jimmy upstairs.

Roland: "Jimmy, come with me for a trip. The Mage is expected to arrive soon."