My regret was actually the missed opportunity to rack up more kills under the banner of a powerful figure.

Of course, such thoughts were best kept to myself. I sheathed my dagger and secured it under my arm. While slightly uncomfortable, it was a small price to pay for vigilance.

Rose Hightower observed my caution, a wry smile playing on her lips. Had she been more prudent, she wouldn't find herself in this predicament.

She entered the bedroom, taking a seat at the small desk. The soft hum of the ceiling lights filled the silence as she mentally reviewed the training manual. Years of practice had etched the techniques into her memory, but she sought absolute accuracy. A single mistake could prove disastrous.

With renewed focus, Rose picked up a pen and began to write, her elegant script flowing across the page.

"What are you doing?" I asked, turning to face her. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Can I sleep soundly when you haven't gotten what you asked for?" she retorted, a pout forming on her lips. We were both ordinary people risking our lives, so why pretend to be so aloof? She still vividly remembered the first time a vamp had sunk its fangs into her neck, the suffocating terror as she struggled for breath. Even though her colleague had swiftly dispatched the creature, the memory haunted her dreams for weeks.

If only someone had been there to offer comfort, she wouldn't have woken up screaming in the middle of the night.

I remained silent, my gaze fixed on her as she continued to write.

I closed my eyes, resigned to another sleepless night.

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, and the rooster's call echoed through the stillness, I rose and found Rose still diligently at work, her pen dancing across the page despite her yawns.

Even though I knew she was from H.A.R.M., sharing a room with a fully clothed, living person was a strange experience, one that left me feeling oddly uncomfortable.

"Alright, I'm half way through," Rose announced, rubbing her wrist and carefully inspecting the pages. "Don't be impatient. Mistakes can have dire consequences."

I nodded, appreciating her diligence. "Thank you for your hard work," I said, slipping into a fresh set of uniform.

Rose raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Well, well," she teased, "it seems you do know how to speak like a normal person."

"After all, I'll need to present you to the Hightower family to exchange for some money. You know, I'm very short of money."

With that, I grabbed my saber and headed out the door.

News traveled fast in Pinewood County, and by morning, a crowd had already gathered outside the Supernatural Affairs squad room, their voices a cacophony of demands and complaints.

"I'll say it again," Wade's voice boomed over the din, his face flushed with frustration. "We only handle supernatural threats, not petty theft. We're not responsible for finding your lost wallets!"

"That's nonsense!" a man shouted back. "Those two tall guys you brought in yesterday were the ones who caught Pizza Pete's wife sneaking a man into her house! I saw it with my own eyes!"

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The crowd erupted in agreement. "Maybe my wallet was stolen by a vamp too!" someone yelled, seeing me approach. "Sergeant Kane, you have to help us!"

I sighed, surveying the chaotic scene before me.

I entered the squad room, the clamor outside fading behind me. With a wave of my hand, I instructed, "Close the door."

Wade and Wright brothers heaved against the door, finally managing to secure the latch. They slumped to the floor, exchanging weary glances.

"Damn it!" Babar Khan exclaimed, his voice laced with indignation. "They used to avoid me like the plague. Now they have the audacity to barge into my office!"

Wade stood up, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. The station wouldn't have allowed this mob to reach the squad room without orders from higher-ups. His expression hardened as he turned toward the metal door behind him.

A moment later, a thunderous bang shook the room.

"That's enough!" The Wright brothers rolled up their sleeves, ready to confront the intruders. But as they swung the door open, their bravado crumbled.

Towering before them was a figure of immense proportions. His physique dwarfed even the burly brothers, his bulging, greasy belly a grotesque testament to his strength. Even without any training, this man could easily overpower several opponents.

The Wright brothers, their faces pale, stumbled backward. "Boss," one stammered, "we've got... trouble."

Wade remained rooted to the spot, his expression grim. He couldn't fathom why a master from Kongo Shintai Securities would come to the police station. If this man couldn't handle something, then no one in Pinewood County could.

"Door closed in broad daylight," the giant rumbled, a blade of grass dangling from his lips. "Thought I'd stumbled into the wrong place. Guess you're here after all." He flashed a grin in my direction.

The Wiry Samurai was nowhere to be seen. I bowed respectfully. "How can I be of service, Sensei?"

"Sensei? Cut the formalities," Butcher Garcia replied, squeezing his massive frame into the room.

"I was invited from Seattle, only to be called a fool. Turns out, I'm not the only one with questionable judgment around here. Figured I'd join you and see if we can scrape by together."

Wade nearly tripped over his own feet in disbelief.

A First Realm master scraping by? It was absurd. With his abilities, Garcia could easily command a king's ransom from the wealthy elites of Pinewood County, desperate for protection in these troubled times. His monthly salary could easily eclipse the combined earnings of the entire squad.

"First of all," I corrected him, a hint of amusement in my voice, "I'm not a fool." I spread my hands in a gesture of mock helplessness. "And I'm also quite poor."

Butcher Garcia let out a booming laugh. "Then I'm not stupid either," he declared, striding further into the room. "And I'm poor too. Just need simple food and water to fill my belly."

I was about to point out that even simple food might be a challenge for my meager budget, considering Garcia's imposing belly.

But Wade, clearly agitated, taking out the bundle of bills I gave him last night and stuffed it into my hand. He winked so hard his eyeballs almost popped out.

What are these two idiots thinking? One refuses a lucrative opportunity, the other turns away a powerful ally!

I glanced at Wade, then gently pushed his hand away. "Go play outside," I said dismissively.

Did he think I was some kind of miser?

"Who is this?" Babar Khan, perplexed by Wade's uncharacteristic generosity, asked. The Wright brothers were equally confused.

"He's a colleague of the expert at the county executive's mansion," Wade explained.

The revelation stunned them into silence.

The Wiry Samurai was a figure of legend, someone they'd only heard whispers about. Only those of Sheriff Williams' stature had the privilege of even a brief encounter.

Now, a master of equal stature stood before them, casually lifting a massive kettlebell that was lying in the corner of the squad room. A relic from the room's previous life as a storage space, the 100-pound kettlebell was effortlessly hoisted and toyed with in his massive hand.

"Do you guys usually use this for strength training?" Butcher Garcia inquired with genuine curiosity.

"No," I replied deadpan, "I usually practice before bed."

It wasn't a lie. Practicing in public often attracted unwanted attention.

"Speaking of training," Garcia set the kettlebell down with a gentle thud, "it's best not to stay cooped up indoors. I'm getting a bit restless in Pinewood County. How about we spar a little?"

"Sounds good," I agreed. A sparring partner would be invaluable in honing my skills and expanding my knowledge.

A wide grin split Garcia's face. "I'm free right now, actually."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Damn, he is really here to look for trouble?” The Wright brothers muttered, shaking their clever heads, almost fooled by this man's easygoing demeanor.