Chapter 41: Agreement Reached (Please Follow)

Out of caution, Ocie asked again, “You know, if I end up shooting a suspect to death, what happens then?”

Levy spread his hands. “Same as usual—you surrender your weapon, there’s an internal review, administrative leave. It’s just that, because the Major Crimes Unit operates in a special environment, the review is a bit more lenient—as long as the DA doesn’t want to make trouble for you.

But as long as you don’t go overboard, it’s usually not a problem. Just look at yourself—you’re a case in point. The DA didn’t come after you relentlessly. This is Los Angeles, man. Everyone knows what it’s like here.”

“Is the Gang Unit responsible for all gangs?” Ocie pressed.

Levy relaxed visibly—he’d been worried Ocie might want to transfer to Finance or something, but as far as the Gang Unit was concerned, they didn’t care if a new guy joined—as long as you could do the job, you were good.

“The Gang Unit is, of course, in charge of all gang-related crime in L.A. County. It’s led by an Assistant Commander, and has subunits for Black gangs, Asian gangs, Italian and European gangs, Russian and Nordic gangs, Mexican and Latin American gangs, and an African group. Which one are you interested in? The Asian group?”

America… truly multicultural. With a diverse population, even the underworld is a vibrant mix—colorful in every sense.

Ocie immediately ruled out the Asian group. The Asian gangs in Los Angeles tended to keep a low profile, quietly making money. It might not be hard to gun someone down for their criminal markings, but actually arresting them wasn’t easy—and he couldn’t just open fire without a good reason, at least not openly.

So, if there were other options, he’d choose elsewhere. If he ever did run into them, he wouldn’t hesitate, but there was no need to join the group now.

The Italian group reminded him of the mafia manager he’d met in a bar—they seemed like easy targets, but they all had legitimate businesses as fronts, and their criminal activities were buried deep. He didn’t have the time to dig that up, and if he planned to take them out on the sly, there was no point joining the Italian group. Same logic applied to the Russians.

The others were more or less the same—hard to tell the difference between the Black gangs and the Mexican ones from where he stood.

“Can you tell me about the Mexican and Latin American group?”

“You’ve got some drive, kid. I thought you’d be more interested in the Asian group.” Levy’s appreciation for Ocie grew—young people willing to take on a challenge, that was good. “Southern California is right next to Mexico, you know. That godforsaken place is constantly sending over a flood of illegal immigrants. These people band together for survival and inevitably form gangs. Because they’re fighting for space, they’ve become especially ruthless and violent.

Once they secure some territory, they quickly connect with their counterparts back in Mexico. Drugs get smuggled north, guns get sent south—it’s a two-way street. We and the FBI have cracked down on them repeatedly, but with so many people crossing over, it’s a real headache.

As for the Latin American group, that’s made up of South American immigrants—excluding Mexicans. Their crime rate is also high, but the key difference is, they don’t get backup as quickly. Some Mexican gangs can call in gunmen from across the border at a moment’s notice—it’s very dangerous. Dealing with Latin American gangs is relatively safer.”

Levy’s explanation was vague, almost deliberately so. As the saying goes, “So far from heaven, so close to the United States”—with all the chaos in Mexico and South America, the U.S. has played no small part in that. Several states were taken from Mexico; there’s bad blood going way back.

And sure, it’s understandable that Mexicans formed gangs, but where did they get all those guns? They didn’t fall from the sky.

People always said that the CIA supported the Mexican drug trade. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. One hand can’t clap alone.

Levy didn’t elaborate on which Mexican and Latin American gangs were active in Los Angeles, or their strength and reputation. Some of these gangs were so brazen that “arrogant” wasn’t a strong enough word. He probably didn’t want to scare Ocie off, so he kept quiet.

Ocie felt that was just fine. If he did join the Major Crimes Unit, the more brutal the Mexican gangs, the more justified his use of force would seem. The issue now was something else.

“You know, I only became a full officer from a reserve because my captain and division pulled some strings. They’ve treated me well. If I leave, I’ll feel a bit guilty.”

“It’s good for a young man to have feelings, but this is your career. If you can advance, you should seize the opportunity. Out of 18,000 deputies in the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department, not many make it into Major Crimes. If you want to repay your old division later, do so in a way that’s proper and above board.

Besides, don’t worry—we’ll handle everything. You don’t need to do anything extra. Just do your job and wait for news.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll choose the Mexican Gang Unit. I want to take on the most dangerous gangsters.”

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Ocie. Wait for good news,” Levy said, and left.

Ocie took a sip of his coffee, then realized that old Black guy had skipped out on the check. Even the Major Crimes assistant commander was stingy.

Good thing he’d only ordered coffee, not pastries or anything else—didn’t let the guy take too much advantage.

He finished his coffee and drove off. Meeting the Major Crimes deputy commander was a surprise, and the promise to transfer him was still just that—a promise. Until it was official, it didn’t mean much, so there was no point dwelling on it.

He returned to UCLA to wait for Zhuo Ning to finish class. She insisted on announcing to her friends that they were together. Ocie thought it was a bit silly—what was there to announce?

But he couldn’t resist when Zhuo Ning acted cute, so he reluctantly agreed.

Have I let this woman get a hold on my weak spot? Ocie fell into deep thought.

“Were you thinking about me? You looked so absorbed.” Zhuo Ning came bouncing out of the school, her smile so wide both her canines showed as she spotted Ocie waiting.

“Yes, I was thinking about you, Shufen. I miss you so much I can’t sleep at night.”

“You’re so annoying!” Zhuo Ning gently slapped Ocie, then slipped her hand into his, turned, and said, “Da-da-da-da! Let me introduce my boyfriend—Ocie.”

“Look at her, showing off,” Kong Ling pointed at Zhuo Ning, cocked her head, and glanced at Tan Ying, only to see Tan Ying holding her boyfriend’s hand too. She looked as if she’d been struck by lightning—couldn’t even force a smile.

“I’m showing off, of course! I’m happy, why shouldn’t I?” Zhuo Ning said with a triumphant little grin, wrapping both arms around Ocie’s.

“You two got together so quickly! You’ve only met a few times—there wasn’t even a proper courtship. It’s not deep at all,” Zong Yiqiang grumbled, remembering how hard he’d chased Tan Ying. He didn’t want to talk about it—it was all tears.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated. If you like someone, you should be together. Dragging things out is pointless,” Zhuo Ning said, turning to Ocie, “Right?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” Ocie nodded quickly. “Let’s go eat, it’s so hot.”

Feng Wei forced a smile. “I’m not feeling well. You go ahead. I’ll skip dinner.”

“Do you need me to take you to the doctor?”

“No, you all go.”

Ocie wanted to say more, but Zhuo Ning pulled him away.