"So soon?" The sudden joy made Little Black feel somewhat unreal.

Reid laughed and retorted, "You want to get your hands on that two million reward quickly; they want their twenty million worth paintings back quickly too. Who do you think is more anxious?"

Little Black rolled his eyes and whispered, "If we hold onto the paintings for a bit longer, will they increase the reward?"

The deputy slapped him on the head, "You're crazy about money. Have some dignity."

Little Black chuckled awkwardly, "I was just saying it casually.

Two million is quite a lot, how will it be distributed?"

Reid replied, "Your squad found the paintings. How the reward is distributed should be decided by your squad itself."

Luke raised his glass, "To Reid."

Everyone raised their glasses too, "To Reid."

The deputy put his glass down, "What about the stolen money?"

Albus Stone bought ten stolen paintings, paying more than three million in dirty money, some of which was used as a deposit, possibly for preparing the robbery equipment. The remaining three million US Dollars were divided up; apart from the money taken by the professor and some spent by other robbers, two million US Dollars was recovered.

Of course, not all of this money ended up in the detective bureau's hands. The FBI and Southern District also recovered part of it, with the detective bureau only getting back about one million.

Reid smiled, "The stolen money will be managed by the police department.

Although your team recovered the paintings, it was also thanks to help from other departments such as Technical Division, Forensics, and even the FBI and Southern District, so the police will consider giving some funds to these departments too."

The deputy nodded, "Very reasonable. Does our squad have funds?"

Reid asked back, "Isn't the two million reward enough for you guys to split?

If you think it's unreasonable, the police can consider uniformly distributing both the painting reward and stolen money."

"No, it's already good enough. Having the police manage the stolen money is very appropriate, we're very pleased." Luke, the captain, spoke up.

Others echoed, afraid Reid might indeed take back the reward distribution rights.

After the party dispersed, instead of heading home right away, everyone went to Luke's place for a small gathering, opening a bottle of champagne in celebration.

Drinking was incidental; the main goal was to find a quiet and private place to discuss the reward distribution, something inappropriate for bars or police stations.

Luke prepared some snacks to go along with the drinks, and while everyone drank, they discussed the reward distribution plan.

The reward amounts to two million US Dollars, with the squad consisting of eight members.

Luke, as the captain, would get thirty thousand US Dollars, the deputy twenty-five thousand, Raymond and Little Black each twenty-two thousand, and the remaining members twenty thousand each, totaling one hundred seventy-nine thousand US Dollars.

The remaining twenty-one thousand would be distributed as ten thousand to Reid, three thousand to the technical team, three thousand to the forensic department, and the remaining five thousand would be kept for squad expenses.

Tonight's drinks at the bar were paid for using the squad's expenses.

This five thousand from the reward, combined with previous squad expenses, brings the total funds to over sixty thousand US Dollars.

With more squad funds, members can afford regular gatherings and drinks, which helps balance the demanding nature of police work with leisure.

...

On January 16, 2023, at ten o'clock in the morning.

In America, California, along Highway 1 in Los Angeles.

Thousands of police cars were parked on the right side of the highway, with their lights flashing and sirens blaring, like a glowing dragon.

On a nearby overpass, more police cars were parked, and the bridge was crowded with officers.

At both ends of the overpass, two cranes were stationed, hoisting a large American flag, with several smaller ones fluttering overhead.

Led by Luke, the first squad of the Robbery and Murder Department stood at the roadside, bidding farewell to four fallen officers.

Among the four officers were patrolmen Jens Hauley and three Southern District officers who were killed in the bombing at the robbers' hideout.

"Woo... woo..."

In the distance, hundreds of police motorcycles formed two rows, leading the way, followed by hundreds of police cars with the lights flashing and sirens blaring. The scene was grand and imposing.

On the right side of Highway 1, thousands of officers disembarked, lining up in a row.

Luke, Raymond, Little Black, Jackson, Jenny, and Port were also part of the line.

"Salute!"

With a sharp "whoosh," all officers raised their right hands to salute the procession.

Only after the four hearses passed and the convoy disappeared from sight, did everyone lower their right hands.

"Being sent off by so many people, it seems they have no regrets in life." Little Black said reflectively.

Port touched his chest, feeling a lingering fear, "I still want to live well."

Previously, in the operation to capture Mamba, Port had been grazed by a bullet on the chest. Fortunately, there was a wooden wall at the time, and he was wearing a bulletproof vest with steel plates, so the injury wasn't severe. After a few days of treatment, he mostly recovered and specially attended the funeral of the four fallen officers today.

Little Black glanced around, "Why didn't the deputy come?"

Jenny said, "Don't blame him; it's not that he doesn't want to come, but people of certain age can't handle scenes like this."

Little Black pursued, "Would he cry? I'd rather like to see that."

Jenny replied, "He wouldn't cry, but he would be scared and might even lose sleep.

Don't ask how I know this; my grandfather was like this — fearless when young, feeling he had seen it all.

Yet when he got older, he started to dread death."

In the evening, at Luke's place.

"Clap..."

In the room, there was a burst of applause that lasted for quite some time.