Lord of the Time: I Can Reincarnate Infinitely

In the privacy of his office, Caleb's father wasted no time. His fingers deftly dialed the chief of police, a long-time friend with whom he shared both camaraderie and mutual respect. As the call connected, the air buzzed with an unspoken understanding.

'About time someone shook up the system,' Caleb's father thought, his irritation at the detectives fueling the urgency of the conversation. The camaraderie between old friends masked the seriousness of the matter at hand.

"John," Caleb's father barked into the phone, a gruff tone underlining his displeasure. "I've got a bone to pick with those so-called detectives of yours. Lack of responsibility, lazy performance – it's a disgrace."

The chief, accustomed to such blunt conversations, responded in kind. "You always did have a way with words, Richard. But I get it. What happened?"

'Lazy performance indeed,' Caleb's father seethed internally, his frustration manifesting in the harsh cadence of his voice. "They're postponing the investigation until next year. The audacity! My son's taken charge because they can't do their damn job."

John, understanding the gravity of the situation, joined in the verbal sparring. "You know how it is, Richard. The system's a mess. These detectives – they're just cogs in a broken machine."

Caleb's father, never one to mince words, unleashed a torrent of vulgar insults, a language only old friends could share without offense. 'Corrupt justice system,' he mused bitterly, his thoughts aligning with the brash language echoing through the phone.

"You're damn right, John. The entire system's rotten to the core. If my son has to step in to get justice for Rose, then so be it. But those detectives – they need a wake-up call."

The conversation continued, a blend of nostalgia and frustration, as Caleb's father and the chief dissected the failures of the justice system. The crude banter, a proof to the years of friendship, camouflaged the seriousness of the matter.

'Lazy, irresponsible, corrupt – it's a damn shame,' Caleb's father raged internally, the weight of the system's failures pressing.

...

Deep in thought, the chief of police pondered the heated conversation with Caleb's father. The weight of the system's failures rested heavily on his shoulders, and the impending confrontation with the detectives loomed like a storm on the horizon.

As the chief mulled over the situation, he decided to call the two detectives into his office, summoning them through his subordinates. Their footsteps echoed through the hallway, a tense anticipation hanging in the air as they entered the chief's domain.

The chief's stern gaze fell upon the two detectives, his voice cutting through the silence. "Explain yourselves. I just had a rather colorful conversation with Richard De Vera, and I'm not pleased."

The detectives, acutely aware of their shortcomings, began to justify their actions. 'Tough nut to crack case,' they reasoned internally, attempting to shift the blame onto the complexity of the investigation.

"Chief, it's a tough case. We've been working tirelessly, but it's like trying to solve a puzzle missing half its pieces," one detective argued, his defense laced with a hint of desperation.

The chief, unrelenting, pressed for more answers. "Tough case or not, laziness won't cut it. You've been slacking off, and now it's blowing up in our faces."

The detectives, facing the repercussions of their lackluster performance, tried to justify their actions further. 'We're indeed lazy, but who wouldn't be after working non-stop for ten years?' they pondered internally, seeking sympathy for their exhaustion.

"Chief, we're tired. We've been working day in and day out for a decade without a break. It wears on you," the other detective chimed in, hoping the chief would understand the toll their dedication had taken.

The chief, unimpressed, retorted, "Fatigue is not an excuse for negligence. You signed up for this job, and you knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park. Now, let's address another concern – the backing of a senator?"

Caught in their own web of excuses, the detectives hesitated before attempting to play their trump card. 'We have influential support,' they thought, banking on political alliances to shield them from the storm brewing within the police department.

"Chief, we have the backing of a senator. It's not easy navigating this system, and having influential support ensures we can do our job without unnecessary obstacles," one detective explained, his tone seeking validation. Stay tuned with My Virtual Library Empire

'Damn lazy,' the chief seethed internally, his patience worn thin by the detectives' negligence. The words reverberated in the room, a testament to the chief's frustration at their blatant disregard for their duties.

"You two are damn lazy! Ten years on the job, and this is the best you can do?" the chief roared, his words slicing through the air like a verbal whip. The detectives, recipients of the harsh critique, stood in stoic silence, their frustration simmering beneath the surface.

The chief, undeterred, moved on to the next point of contention. 'Licking dogs of a corrupt senator,' he thought, disdain dripping from every syllable. The accusation cut through the room, a verbal indictment of the detectives' questionable allegiances.

"You think I don't know? Licking the boots of a corrupt senator for protection? You've tarnished the badge with your disgraceful alliances," the chief continued, his words carrying the weight of disappointment and condemnation.

The detectives, caught in the crossfire of the chief's verbal assault, could only clench their jaws in silent frustration. Each insult hurled at them felt like a slap to their professional integrity, a scathing critique of their commitment to the oath they had taken.

"Fake detectives!" the chief declared, his tone biting with the accusation. The words hung in the air, a damning indictment that struck at the very core of the detectives' professional identity.

"You call yourselves detectives? Fake is more like it. Real detectives don't crumble under pressure, and they certainly don't compromise their integrity for political favors," the chief declared, his words serving as a stark reminder of the principles that should guide those entrusted with upholding the law.

The detectives, battered by the verbal onslaught, maintained their silence, their frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The chief's relentless critique had exposed not only their professional shortcomings but also the erosion of trust within the department.

As the chief's verbal assault concluded, the room fell into a heavy silence. The chief, still seething with disappointment, pondered the path forward. 'This department needs a cleanse. A reminder of the principles we swore to uphold,' he thought, a sense of duty guiding his next steps.