the 9th is in even worse shape than we anticipated."
he revelation acted as an immediate reset of the precinct's hierarchy. The visual continuity of the scene
shifted dramatically. Where Arthur had been framed in a vulnerable, seated position, he now stood tall,
the undeniable focal point of the room. The cream on his shirt, previously a mark of humiliation, now looked
like war paint—a testament to his unshakeable discipline.
"It's quite alright, Rossi," Arthur said, taking the Deputy Chief's hand with a firm shake. He turned his
gaze back to Hayes and Land. The warmth vanished entirely from his eyes, replaced by the cold, hard stare
of a commanding officer assessing a critical failure.
"Officer Hayes," Arthur said, the title dripping with thinly veiled contempt. "You will procure a mop.
You will clean this floor until I can see my reflection in it. Then, you will wait outside my office."
Hayes swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing erratically. "Y-yes, sir."
"And you, Sergeant Land," Arthur continued, pivoting his attention. "A man of your rank should
understand the concept of leading by example. Instead, you act as a cheerleader for a circus. You will join
him."
Arthur didn't raise his voice, but the commanding cadence left absolutely no room for debate. He turned
and walked out of the break room, the damp patch on his shirt the only physical evidence of the altercation.
Behind him, the room remained in stunned silence, broken only by the frantic, humiliating sound of Hayes
scrambling to find a mop.
As Arthur walked down the main corridor toward the Captain’s office, the atmosphere of the precinct
shifted around him. Word traveled fast. By the time he reached the frosted glass door bearing his new title,
the entire floor was operating with a sudden, rigid efficiency. Phones were answered promptly, voices were
hushed, and postures were straightened. The era of the boys' club had ended in exactly four minutes and
twenty seconds.
he Captain’s office was dimly lit, the heavy blinds drawn against the harsh afternoon sun. Arthur sat
behind the massive mahogany desk, having changed into a fresh, crisp white shirt. The desk was bare,