Reborn: The Rookie Detective

Reacher's eyes were filled with doubt as he frowned and stared at Jack for a long time, seemingly trying to figure out where his reasoning had gone wrong.

The policewoman gestured for them to finish their coffee and returned the cups. "It's quite interesting that you're both named Jack."

Jack stood up again, handed over his ceramic cup, and turned to extend his hand to Reacher in a friendly manner. "Jack Tavelor."

Reacher still frowned, shaking hands while carefully observing him. "Jack Reacher."

At this moment, Finlay rushed out of the office and called out to the policewoman, "Roscoe, we need to leave immediately. We've found that phone number."

"Looks like we'll be spending some time together. Maybe we can talk about how to distinguish each other, or perhaps we can give each other nicknames?" Jack suggested with a smile.

"Just call you Little Jack." Reacher looked down at him.

"I don't know who's older yet." Jack also looked down.

[A/n: Man, please kill each other.]

The two fell silent again.

Less than an hour later, Officer Roscoe and Finlay escorted a well-mannered white man in designer casual clothes into the police station.

"Go in," Finlay said, opening the iron door to the detention cell and gesturing to the white man.

The man stared at Reacher as if he had seen a monster. Jack, who was standing next to him, shifted to the side, and Reacher cautiously shuffled over to sit down next to Jack.

"Hey, Reacher, come with me," Finlay said, gesturing for him to come out.

"No," Reacher said, remaining seated.

Finlay's eyes widened. "Excuse me, what did you say?"

"Unless you untie me first. You all know I'm not the murderer, and this thing is making me very uncomfortable."

Finlay sighed and said to Roscoe, "Go get a letter opener."

"No need," Reacher stood up, his arm, almost as thick as a normal person's thigh, snapping the plastic cable ties on his wrist with ease, and then picked them up with a smile.

"Do you have any recycling bins here?"

Jack, looking at the standard handcuffs on his wrists, pondered. Would he scare people if he did the same?

"You shouldn't do that. Next time they'll know to use more handcuffs," he sincerely suggested, watching Reacher leave the detention cell.

"No need, I have large handcuffs in my safe," Finlay replied, closing the iron door behind him and leading Reacher into his office.

At first, it was quiet, but soon the two began arguing. Finlay opened the office door and shouted, "Stevenson, come to my office."

The young officer, who had been restless ever since seeing the well-mannered white man being taken back to the station, bowed and entered Finlay's office.

Less than five minutes later, he emerged, pale-faced, and the argument inside grew louder.

Finally, Finlay stormed out, saying angrily, "You could even tell I just quit smoking, but you have no idea what I'm up to?"

Reacher, equally annoyed, followed relentlessly, "You're completely out of line! Someone turned themselves in, and I helped you."

"You helped me?" Finlay pointed at him rudely.

"You seem a bit out of touch. Your disheveled appearance, your unemployment, or even your homeless lifestyle all indicate you're no longer a police officer. The chief has ordered me to detain you until it's confirmed you were indeed on the bus at the time of the incident."

He turned and ordered Roscoe, "Notify the county jail to send in the prisoners. These three guys will be temporarily detained until we've investigated the case."

This time, Reacher was indeed handcuffed in large handcuffs, receiving the same treatment as the other two.

After a long wait, a prison van stopped in front of the police station. Before the three were led out of the detention room, Reacher said to Roscoe, "Take the watch off his wrist."

He was referring to the new white man beside him. Jack, standing nearby, also reminded him, "And his ring, otherwise, he'll be completely robbed within five minutes of entering the jail."

Roscoe looked at the two of them with some surprise.

"It was a pleasant chat with you just now," Reacher thanked Roscoe earnestly. The policewoman removed the watch and ring from the white man while giving him a complicated look.

'You two should just get married already.' Jack thought to himself, rolling his eyes. No wonder they're the main characters; they've already hit it off so quickly.

The empty prison van held only three people. Jack looked out at the sunset, feeling incredibly melancholy. He had sacrificed so much to avenge Hannah.

It was only because he wasn't an ordinary person anymore; otherwise, ending up in an American prison for no reason would likely have gotten him into serious trouble.

"Thank you… thank you for reminding them about the watch and ring. My name is Paul Hubble," the white man stammered, finally mustering his courage.

"Shut up, you've ruined my trip," Reacher glared at him, instantly extinguishing any remaining courage.

"So, why were you arrested?" Jack, sitting in the back, patted Paul on the shoulder.

"Detective Finlay found me and said he found a phone number in a corpse's shoe. That number was mine, so I confessed to being the murderer," Paul answered softly.

"So, you really killed someone?" Jack asked knowingly. This guy looked like a weakling; his thighs weren't even as thick as Reacher's forearm.

"No, you wouldn't understand. If I don't confess, I'm dead." The guy actually started sobbing, burying his head in his hands.

Jack didn't press further. Confirming this guy was the key witness was enough. Now, all he had to do was wait for one more thing to happen, forcing the main characters to unite, and he could break the deadlock.

By the time the prison van pulled into the prison, it was already dark. A disheveled old prison guard was waiting outside. Watching the three get off, he spoke, "I'm Officer Spivey. Follow the yellow line, prisoners. You will be placed in solitary confinement. They will arrange for your interrogation this weekend."

After changing into prison uniforms, the three were led into an empty four-person cell. The night passed without incident.

At dawn, after a bell rang, the cell's electromagnetic lock opened automatically. Jack opened his eyes and got up, seeing that Reacher, who had also slept on another bunk bed, had jumped off and walked out of the cell.

Paul was squatting in a corner of the cell, looking restless. Knowing he hadn't slept all night, Jack patted him on the shoulder and followed him out of the cell.

The corridor outside the cell was bustling with activity, with rap music playing. Jack looked around and noticed that all the prisoners had gang tattoos on their arms.

He exchanged a glance with Reacher, and the two quickly went back to their cell.