After returning from the prison, Russell called Arnold and told him to pick up the two Maseratis. He also informed him how dangerous it was for a twelve-year-old brat to own a supercar.
A week might not seem long, but if you really had nothing to do, it could become agonizingly tedious.
Especially for Russell. If he went a day without causing trouble... without doing something, he felt uncomfortable all over. So every night, he went to the police station to borrow a patrol car.
New York in this world was a mess, especially at night, when crises were highly likely to erupt. As long as he kept at it, he was bound to run into some kind of plot.
World Quest: 1, Major Cases 0/5 World Quest: 2, Ordinary Cases 18/50
After three days, he had not stumbled into any plot, but he had run into plenty of petty thieves.
Incredibly, Mathilda driving while underage had counted as an ordinary case after he issued her guardian, Arnold, a ticket.
The upper ranks of a certain Table organization that wished to remain anonymous collectively cried themselves unconscious in the restroom.
On a rainy night, the chill in New York's streets gradually deepened. Russell turned on the windshield wipers and stopped at an intersection.
Perhaps because of the weather, there were few pedestrians on the road tonight. The police car felt empty, and he had not even encountered a single ordinary case.
This was so not New York!
Flap, flap!
The faint sound of wings beating passed overhead. Russell immediately perked up. It sounded very much like a lost angel.
He rolled down the window and looked outside, his face instantly filling with disappointment. It had wings, but it was not an angel.
If he had to put