Police in Los Angeles

Dinner time was spent with everyone gossiping, while Angela pretended to console the feigning distressed Hannah.

"Attention, everyone." Before the party ended, John stood up, tapping his spoon lightly against a glass to indicate he wanted to speak.

"Everyone, I have a suggestion. How about we have a regular gathering once a month? The location can rotate among us, we can hire Jack as our chef, and anyone else confident in their cooking skills can join in. The rest of us can split the cost of the ingredients. What do you think?"

"Agreed!" The group raised their glasses and cheered.

Jack felt that his cooking skills might be the first skill he could master without relying on additional points.

Advancing from proficiency to mastery required 10 gold coins. Given his current rate of experience gain, he wasn't sure if he could master handgun shooting by the time he made detective.

He no longer needed to practice shooting daily. After reaching proficiency with handguns, shooting at the range didn't improve his skills much. To advance further, he likely needed the intensity of SWAT training.

As a cop, his level of handgun proficiency was more than adequate. Jack could confidently say that no one in the LAPD, including the SWAT team, could outshoot him.

As for rifle shooting, it wasn't that Jack didn't want to practice; he simply couldn't afford it. Regular shooting ranges had limited effects on skill improvement. Professional ranges and coaches from shooting clubs were beyond his financial reach.

Over the past few months, he'd saved up $2,000. For a middle-aged man from Seris, this amount was unsettlingly low. Though he had backup plans, it wasn't time to use them yet.

His dream was to own a small house like Hannah, nothing too big, just enough for a bedroom that could fit a queen-size bed and a perfect Chinese kitchen. A bathroom with a double bathtub was a must.

The house needed a backyard large enough for a gym set and martial arts practice posts. A pool was optional, but growing some fruits and vegetables was essential.

These dreams required a lot of money. Relying solely on the meager salary of the LAPD, Jack would have to look forward to the full pension after 25 years of service like Captain Gray.

Taking out loans was out of the question. His friends, Tim and John, were perfect examples. Despite seeming well-off with houses and cars, they could barely scrape together $500 at the end of the year, with most of their income going to bank payments.

Maybe true Americans were used to this lifestyle, but for Jack, a middle-aged man from Seris, living one paycheck away from homelessness was too risky.

After tidying up the living room and kitchen, Jack went to the bathroom to wash off the cooking grease. When he opened the door, he found Hannah holding a large gift box.

"A gift to congratulate you on officially becoming an LAPD officer."

"What's inside?" Jack took the box, feeling its weight. Could she have bought him a gun?

"You always complain about how expensive English textbooks are. I noticed you often buy Chinese reference books, so I went to Chinatown and bought a few. The shopkeeper said these were very useful."

Jack's smile froze. This silly girl couldn't read a single Chinese character. Had she been conned? He often saw Americans on the streets with bizarre Chinese tattoos that made him facepalm.

Opening the wrapping paper, the top book was indeed a very useful tool—"Xinhua Dictionary," the eighth edition, still in good condition.

Not wanting to upset Hannah, Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded seriously. "It is a very useful tool. What's this? Oh my god!"

Jack's face lit up as he flipped to the next book. He couldn't help but curse in his native language. Ignoring Hannah's confused look, he kept flipping, his smile growing wider and more excited.

The second book was titled "The Friend of Military and Civilian Talents," and the third was a continuation of the same title with a subtitle in parentheses.

"Are these books useful?" Hannah asked, puzzled by his silence.

"Of course, they're extremely useful."

Jack hugged Hannah and spun her around, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Thank you so much, Hannah. You're my lucky charm."

Hannah had never seen Jack so excited. Though she didn't fully understand, she was happy too, her face flushing.

"Since you got injured, you haven't trained with me. Can we continue tonight?"

"Sure, let me put away your gift first."

Jack took the heavy books to the attic, placing the "Xinhua Dictionary" on the shelf—it would likely just be for show.

He put the two volumes of "The Friend of Military and Civilian Talents" on his bedside table. These essential books for traversers, though more suited for ancient times, were invaluable for someone with his system. They contained a wealth of practical knowledge, enough to add a series of beginner skills to his system panel.

Previously, by reading basic psychology textbooks, Jack had gained entry-level psychology skills. This kind of practical encyclopedia was incredibly useful.

After changing into tight sportswear, Jack went downstairs and entered Hannah's training room, a space without floorboards, just a thin layer of padding. The walls were similarly padded, with a training dummy and a punching bag in one corner.

He was curious to see if his combat skills had improved after his physique surpassed 20.

When his perception had surpassed 20, he could clearly sense his body lagging behind his mind during sparring with Hannah.

When he focused during a fight, he could keenly observe his opponent's gaze, shoulder movements, and muscle exertions to predict their intentions.

But his body couldn't keep up with his mind, like playing a high-ping online game.

After his physique surpassed 20, though he had been pretending to have a leg injury and not sparring with Hannah, he had tested himself privately. His weight had quickly increased to 85 kilograms, and his nerve reactions and motor coordination had greatly improved.

Previously, the martial arts routines Jack learned at the dojo had been forcibly turned into muscle memory by the system. Although they looked good, their practicality was low since real fights weren't turn-based.

The Krav Maga he practiced with Hannah emphasized quick, precise, and ruthless moves, requiring a deep understanding of human pain points and weaknesses. It wasn't about looking good but about incapacitating the opponent, very practical for subduing criminals.

Although it also required repetitive practice to form muscle memory, the moves were flexible and adaptable.

When a high-ping player became a low-ping player, the routines and techniques began to integrate smoothly, enhanced by the system's skill levels.

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