Roland changed his clothes and came out, and they sat on the sofa and continued to drink beer. Hmm, Roland had casually brought the beer from the hallway when he entered earlier.
Roland spoke first, "Jimmy, tell me about yourself. How are you doing now?"
Jimmy, "Roland, you've noticed, haven't you? My situation."
Roland, "Yeah, so tell me about your situation."
Jimmy had considered this scenario before. For Roland, who had traveled through multiple worlds and in this one had eradicated demons from other worlds, his situation shouldn't be anything shockingly inappropriate. Roland should be able to understand.
Jimmy, "I used to be a firefighter, a firefighter from another world. There was an accident during a firefighting operation, and I was declared dead. After that, my soul arrived at a gate, and after passing through, I came to this world and entered this body.
It was 2 years ago. At that time, the original Jimmy must have had some accident. Ever since I arrived, his soul has never shown up, and there have never been any exceptional circumstances with the soul and this body.
Later, after some events, I joined the Plaskey County Police Department, which I mentioned to you last time. In the department, I discovered my Revolver Talent. For other weapons, I was just ordinary and could master them with more training, but the revolver seemed like an extension of my hand, very proficient with high precision.
I always thought that the talent with the revolver was innate to this body, but it was not until I met you here last time that I knew this was the result of Jimmy's hard work for 8 years, which I had directly inherited, becoming my current talent.
After about a year at the police department, I switched from Patrol Officer to a full-time support position. Now, I am basically stationed at the headquarters of the county police. This is what I've experienced these past 2 years."
Roland, "Pretty much what I figured. I guess these past 2 years haven't been easy for you. Have you killed anyone?"
Jimmy, "You can tell?"
Roland, "Yeah, your eyes. I've seen them plenty of times before. It looks like you've killed quite a few, how many?"
Jimmy, "20-30, I guess."
Roland instantly straightened up.
Jimmy hurriedly waved his hands, "Don't get worked up, they were all criminals. Everyone had a reason to be killed. I am a police officer; my job is to stop criminals. I've never killed any innocent people."
Roland relaxed a bit, leaning back on the sofa, "You were a firefighter before? Why did it turn out like this? Why kill so many people? To my knowledge, the vast majority of police officers never kill a single person in their entire lives. Even many don't fire their guns until they retire."
Jimmy, "I've thought about that. When I first arrived here, influenced perhaps by this body, I was very irritable for a while and would impulsively shoot at criminals, especially those involved in violent cases.
After about half a year, that impulsiveness gradually vanished, and afterward, almost all the killing was done during missions. For common crimes, I wouldn't even draw my gun."
Roland, "It seems you were still influenced. Congratulations, Jimmy, you managed to avoid becoming the previous him."
Jimmy, "Yeah, I was a lifesaver before. I never expected that I would become an Executioner in this lifetime. By the way, my nickname at the police station is Butcher. Although I don't like it, for a police officer, the first nickname is still treasured."
Roland, "Yeah, keep your true self, do not fall."
They talked about some of the cases Jimmy had worked on. It was clear that Roland was actually in quite a good mood, though his face hardly showed any expression.
Roland, "Jimmy, I've taught you all I can about guns. The rest is up to you. You can leave now, take care of yourself."
Jimmy tilted his head back and emptied the beer, placed the bottle on the coffee table, and stood up.
Jimmy, "Thanks, Roland. Take care of yourself too. Call me if you need anything."
Jimmy took out a business card from his pocket, placed it on the coffee table; the number printed on his police department card was his own commonly used number, so he had not prepared a personal card.
Jimmy walked over to Roland, hugged him, then turned and left the cabin. Roland did not move, just sat down and looked at the business card on the coffee table.
Jimmy got into his car and left Roland's house.
Jimmy returned to Hamilton. He had checked out of the hotel when he left last time and had to check in again because it was already the afternoon. Driving back to Little Rock wasn't a good idea at that time; it would probably be after midnight when he got home.
Jimmy was on vacation now; there was nothing urgent that he needed to address, so he wasn't in a hurry to return.
After putting his luggage in the hotel room and resting briefly, Jimmy went out. It was evening by then. He found a restaurant for dinner, and then, on the cab driver's recommendation, he headed to a lively bar, only to be stopped at the door.
Jimmy had brought a belt holster this time, and the revolver was visibly attached to his waist. There was no problem walking on the street, but places selling spirits, like bars, did not permit it; of course, concealed carry unnoticed was another matter.
This was Texas, not Jimmy's turf, so he had no choice but to go back to the hotel, tidy up, and head out again with just his cell phone and wallet. This time he didn't go far, choosing a bar near the hotel. Luckily, there was a baseball game on live that night, and the bar was clearly a gathering place for fans. Jimmy was just passing the time and didn't mind, casually drinking beer, watching the game, and chatting with people nearby.
The next morning, while Jimmy was still asleep, his phone suddenly rang. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table.
Jimmy, "This is Jimmy. What's up?"
James, "Jimmy, it's me, James. Where are you? Turn on the TV, quickly."
Jimmy, "Oh, James, I'm in Texas, on vacation. Uh, it's only 8 o'clock in the morning here."
James, "Enough, just turn on the TV to any channel. Something big has happened."
Jimmy didn't hang up the phone but grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand and turned on the TV.
Although the hotel wasn't four or five stars, they'd paid for cable TV. Jimmy switched to CBS. If James was this urgent, it must be a big deal. Jimmy was still half-asleep as he watched the burning buildings on the TV screen and realized what was happening.
Jimmy, "James, what's the date today?"
James, "9/11."
Jimmy, "I'm going to watch TV, hanging up now. Goodbye."