As An Antique Shop Owner, It's Only Reasonable That I Know A Bit Of Magic - Chapter 22

The cop froze, instinctively pulling back before snapping out of it.

Had he really just been intimidated by an Asian guy?!

The thought made his face burn with humiliation. Just as he was about to retaliate with some underhanded move, the younger cop cut in.

“Johnny, it’s getting late. If we drag this out, we’ll miss lunch.”

The rookie’s voice was like a bucket of cold water—enough to cool the older cop’s temper and give him a way to save face.

“Lucky you… Let’s go!”

———

Su Fan was soon brought to the police station.

Once inside, the veteran cop—Johnny—left him sitting alone, probably to mess with his nerves, while he chatted and laughed loudly with his buddies.

The rookie from earlier was left to watch him.

Seeing Su Fan’s calm expression, the young officer assumed he was putting on a brave face and went to fetch two cups of coffee.

“Sorry… I didn’t really want to do this,” the rookie muttered, handing one to Su Fan.

Su Fan accepted it without protest.

“Johnny’s been here forever… If I hadn’t listened to him back there, well… you get it.”

“If you want to file a complaint, I can point you in the right direction.”

Su Fan finally turned to study the young white cop properly.

He was short—maybe five-foot-seven—with a no-nonsense air but an underlying streetwise edge.

A soldier turned cop. Or maybe just a brat who grew up rough.

The rookie noticed Su Fan’s attention and grinned.

“Name’s Carl.”

“Nice to meet you, Officer Carl.”

Su Fan knew the guy was doing his best—helping where he could without risking his job. Decent, by cop standards.

Carl glanced at Johnny’s group, making sure they weren’t watching, then lowered his voice.

“Listen, we’ve got a new detective here lately.”

“Guy’s always sleep-deprived and pissed off—clashes with Johnny all the time.”

“When he shows up, explain your situation. He’d love an excuse to stick it to that old clique-forming bastard.”

A faint smirk tugged at Su Fan’s lips.

Unnoticed, Carl kept talking, eyes still on Johnny.

“The ones who reported you were a father and daughter—not biological, though. Didn’t look alike at all.”

“Girl claimed you called her into your shop, showed her ‘inappropriate films,’ and tried to get handsy.”

“Guy freaked out and came straight here to report you. His wife called later, screaming at him over it…”

“Anyway, you’ll be out soon. Just file a complaint and enjoy the settlement money.”

“Had a cashier in my old neighborhood get falsely arrested like this—walked away with six figures. You’ll probably clean up too.”

Su Fan tilted his head.

“How do you know I’m definitely walking out?”

Carl snorted.

“Only idiots think kids don’t lie. At her age? I could spin tales so convincing I almost believed them.”

“Besides, it’s her word against yours. No evidence, no fingerprints—nothing. How’s that gonna hold up?”

“Main thing is, that girl’s… off.”

Su Fan’s interest sharpened.

This kid’s sharp.

“Off how?”

Carl frowned.

“The way she looked at her ‘dad’—like he was prey. And the guy? Acting like a man brainwashed by some femme fatale.”

“Plus, girls that age usually clam up about this stuff. But her description? Vulgar as hell. Sounded like some desperate cougar I met at a bar once—”

“Pfft—”

Su Fan couldn’t help it.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I do.”

Carl was about to reply when the station door swung open. He instantly straightened.

The chatter in the room died to whispers as a figure strode in—greeted with nods and murmurs of “Detective.” Clearly someone with clout.

“Carl. Weren’t you and Johnny on patrol?”

The detective’s voice was rough, like gravel over lack of sleep.

“Got a report. Brought someone in for questioning.”

The detective grabbed a file from a nearby desk, flipping through it.

“Alleged molestation of a minor. But it’s shaky—no solid evidence yet.”

Carl’s wording was very carefully tilted in Su Fan’s favor.

“No evidence?”

The detective’s tone turned dangerous.

No evidence, and they’d hauled someone in? What kind of half-assed—

Then his eyes landed on the figure sitting calmly behind Carl.

Handcuffed.

Smiling.

Waving.

“Long time no see, Detective.”

For a second, the detective’s vision whited out. Pure adrenaline spiked through his skull.

THIS is who they arrested?!

ARE YOU MOTHERF—

He sucked in a breath.

“JOHNNY! GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS OVER HERE—NOW!”

The roar silenced the entire station.

Johnny, mid-joke with his buddies, nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned—and paled at the sight of the detective, veins bulging in fury.

The grins around him weren’t helping.

But with his boss this enraged, arguing wasn’t an option. He hurried over.

“Explain. THAT.”

The detective jabbed a finger at Su Fan, voice barely controlled.

“W-we brought him in on a report… someone said he—uh—committed a crime, so—”

Johnny’s words tangled under the pressure.

“Evidence? Warrant?”

“N-no—”

“NO EVIDENCE AND YOU CUFFED HIM?! ARE YOUR BRAIN CELLS VACATIONING IN YOUR COLON?! UNLOCK HIM—NOW!”

Spit flew as the detective ripped into Johnny, humiliation complete in front of the whole precinct.

Red-faced, Johnny mustered a shred of defiance.

“But the procedur—”

“I’LL ‘PROCEDURE’ YOUR RESIGNATION LETTER! UNLOCK. HIM.”

Defeated, Johnny fumbled for his keys.

Carl watched, stunned.

The new detective never lost his cool like this. Yet here he was, cursing like a sailor with a broken radio—all because of the guy they’d arrested.

Johnny just pissed off someone way above his pay grade.