"Let's go to my place, get so good food, and let's all sit down and review the case again. Maybe we'll find sothing unexpected."
Jack invited Nolan to bring Carrie along, and drove with Angela to the supermarket to buy a bunch of groceries before returning to his house.
The white two-story house was now completely renovated. Nolan had basically helped with the kitchen before his vacation, and during the two weeks of vacation, Jack not only built a large bathtub in the first-floor bathroom but also cleaned most of the old furniture and repainted the walls.
The house looked unchanged from the outside, but the interior was completely transford. Except for a few missing appliances, it was already very close to the ho Jack had dread of.
As soon as Jack arrived, he went into the kitchen to work, letting them look around freely.
"What's wrong? You look a little strange?" Jack asked, seeing Nolan walking in with a hesitant expression.
"Did you do all of this by yourself?" Nolan pointed his index finger upwards, drawing a circle, indicating the entire house.
"Yeah, I've been busy with this for the past two weeks. I also rearranged the wiring in a few rooms. I tested it and it seems fine, but I still need your help to check it."
Jack tasted the soup, added so water, and turned it to a simr. After all this work, the basic life skills he'd acquired were basically upgraded to proficiency.
But his ager savings were almost gone. If it weren't for the bonus he received after the terrorist attack, he almost wouldn't have been able to pay his end-of-month bills.
"If my forr partner had half your work efficiency, I might be rich by now."
What kind of capitalist talk was that? Jack could guess Nolan's true thoughts.
"You also want to renovate your house, right? No problem, I can co and help whenever I have ti."
In his mory, this guy had been working on his house for over a year, causing countless minor problems like electrical fires and collapsed shelves. Thinking about it now, it was quite funny.
Nolan, looking grateful, rubbed his hands together as he approached the cutting board. He picked up a tomato and asked, "What do you need to do?"
"Just so simple slicing, and this too," Jack said without hesitation, handing him a few cucumbers. There were quite a few people there today, and everyone was hungry. Although Nolan's cooking skills weren't great, he was still a middle-aged man with plenty of life experience, and his ability to help was always quite good.
Jack placed a whole chicken wrapped in foil into the oven under the stove, set the tir, and drained the oil from the fried peanuts, sprinkling them with sea salt while they were still hot.
Soon, a plate of smashed cucumbers, and a bowl of tomatoes with sugar were on the table, along with so ready-to-eat sausages and other cold dishes bought from the supermarket.
"We'll have the main course in 40 minutes. Please help yourselves to sothing."
Jack hesitated, wondering whether to open a bottle of shochu. He was a bit strapped for cash lately and had forgotten to stock up on red wine; this was all he had. But then he thought about the business eting later, and getting drunk wouldn't be appropriate.
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Wesley, whom Angela had called, appeared at the door carrying a bottle of Harlan Winery dry red wine.
Angela rushed to open the door to greet him, and the two chatted affectionately for a while before entering the living room.
Unlike Westerners who usually separate the living room and dining room, Jack, having renovated the kitchen and taken up part of the original dining area, simply combined the two spaces, placing a large square table in the center — so large that three people could even squeeze onto each side.
Although it seed sowhat odd compared to the long dining tables commonly used by Europeans and Aricans, it was his own ho after all.
Everyone took their seats. Having eaten with Jack so often, Nolan and Angela were already incredibly skilled with chopsticks; he only prepared Western cutlery for Wesley and Carrie.
Tim and Lucy weren't here today. Nolan secretly breathed a sigh of relief when he saw there was no spicy food on the table; that spicy feast a few weeks ago had really worn him out.
Jack chuckled inwardly at his expression. He hadn't expected a spicy food to be so effective, successfully sending two middle-aged n with hemorrhoids to the hospital. However, he still provided after-sales service with a clear conscience.
Taking the opportunity, he tested his master-level healing skill on the two n and was pleasantly surprised to find that the healing skill, which was originally only effective imdiately, could actually have a lasting effect.
Originally, the proficient-level healing skill could already be called a divine skill, but it was actually sowhat inconvenient to use. For example, when he rescued the county sheriff who had lost his left leg, Jack actually spent more of his ntal energy controlling the range of the healing skill's effect in order not to give himself away.
Otherwise, if he used his full power, the wound on the broken leg would have closed instantly, which Nolan would probably have worshipped as a miracle.
The current healing skills, besides their original instant cure, can also take effect continuously, similar to giving a gradual healing effect over ti. This made Jack's mind wander.
If he cast a healing spell on himself in the midst of a hail of bullets, would he have a chance to recover even if he was shot in the head? He just didn't know if the regenerated brain would still be the sa person.
Of course, this was just his wild imagination. With his current rate of attribute growth, he estimated that in a few years, when his ntal strength and physique exceeded 30, unless he was directly hit by a high-powered weapon, even on a battlefield amidst a hail of bullets, while completely dodging bullets might be an exaggeration, turning a fatal blow into a serious injury, or a serious injury into a minor one, would definitely be no problem.
Because of the rush, tonight's dinner was relatively simple. Excluding the cold dishes that were initially served, a whole roasted chicken, a bowl of borscht, and dumplings that Jack had stored in the refrigerator during Christmas were enough to fill the stomachs of five people.
There weren't any particularly devout Catholics present; everyone was used to chatting while eating, mainly focusing on today's case. Wesley, since the terrorist attack, had beco one of them and had learned when to keep quiet.
Carrie was also considered one of them, especially since she had treated the drug dealer who was almost beaten to death earlier that day, so there was no deliberate avoidance of conversation.
"Angela, what do you think of Bruno?" Jack started the conversation. The case wasn't particularly big or complicated, but it was his first ti officially involved in solving a case, and he felt sowhat resentful if it were ultimately handed over, so he was just as invested as Angela.
User Comments
0 comments from readers