Reborn into the FBI

Chapter 1: New FBI Interns

New York, Manhattan, 26 Federal Plaza, Jacob Federal Building, 9 AM. This towering modern skyscraper, bathed in morning light, stands solemnly, housing the FBI's New York division headquarters on floors 23 to 26—a place shrouded in mystery and tension.

Inside a small meeting room.

"Can't believe I've actually become the legendary FBI?" Link sat at the back corner of the conference table, murmuring incredulously to himself. He adjusted his neat suit and glanced at the gold badge on his chest, his expression stoic. All of this was too sudden; he had only planned to explore the customs and characteristics of a foreign land, but a brief sleep on the plane had brought him to a whole new world.

Snap—

The conference room door swung open, interrupting Link's thoughts. A middle-aged Caucasian man with a crew cut, dressed in a sharp suit, entered holding a folder. His gaze swept around, and without wasting words, he dove straight into the matter at hand:

"Attention, we're dealing with a shooting homicide in the park." The man with the crew cut opened the folder, scattering a bunch of photos on the table, and continued, "The victim, Mike-Robert, aged 43, was shot dead on April 11, 2025, at 11:34 PM, on a path in Central Park."

As the interns on either side of the table reached for the photos, trying to gather clues, Link remained still, sorting through the pasty memories in his mind. In his previous life, he was raised by an ailing old assassin. Naturally, he grew up mastering various skills with exceptional proficiency and precision. Despite never failing, he had never taken orders from anyone. The old assassin's intention in raising Link was to have him avenge a personal vendetta. However, when the old man died and Link set out to find his enemy, he discovered that the foe had already been arrested by local law enforcement and sentenced to death by the court. With the enemy having no relatives and not daring to confront the prison directly, Link decided on a whim to board a flight to the island nation, intending to first savor the local culture before opening a bubble tea shop to live out his days. After all, the life of an assassin was not only risky but also slow to make money—nothing compared to running a bubble tea shop in an island country.

"Sir, there's something I don't understand," Fisher, a young Caucasian man with brown hair and thin lips, asked as the crew cut man briefly introduced the case, "Why was this case assigned to us?" Clearly, a typical murder case didn't require the FBI; the New York Police Department could handle it themselves.

Before the crew cut man could reply, Audrey, a striking red-haired Caucasian woman in a formal suit, with a figure perfectly streamlined for aerodynamics, glanced disdainfully at Fisher and explained, "The victim was a black special correspondent returning from a war zone, and next to the body, the word 'pest' was written in blood. Clearly, this is a targeted hate crime based on the victim's identity."

Hate crimes fell under the FBI's jurisdiction. After hearing Audrey's explanation, the man with the crew cut nodded subtly. His gaze flickered toward Link, who hadn't moved since the briefing started, his brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't address Link and instead clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention, "This case is complex, and we need fresh blood like yours to bring new energy and ideas. Let's get started, everyone give it your all!" In a modern, high-tech training center for agents, twenty new interns were gathered in a spacious conference room. They had just watched a video on the large screen, featuring the crew cut man as their instructor, who left them with a challenge: solve a special hate crime within three days.

As the instructor's voice echoed in the room, he had already hurriedly left, leaving no further explanations. As the door closed, the previously quiet room burst into activity. The interns eagerly reviewed the photos and clues, trying to crack the case.

"Is the 'pest' written next to the victim's body referring to his identity as a black man or as a journalist?" one intern wondered.

"It could be both," another replied.

"Maybe more towards his journalist identity. After all, he returned from a war zone filled with religious zealots—nothing they do is surprising," a third intern analyzed.

"It's not certain, the victim also reported on a lot of political corruption," added a fourth.

"Enemies everywhere, it seems," someone remarked.

Amid these discussions, Link seemed distracted. The moment the crew cut man left the room, a buzzing sound suddenly filled his ears, followed by a pale blue page abruptly appearing before his eyes.

【System Loading】

【System Successfully Loaded!】

【Today's Treasure Chest Prepared, Would You Like to Open It?】

【Starter Pack Ready, Would You Like to Open It?】

Link's pupils constricted as he looked around to ensure no one noticed this anomaly, then he exhaled in relief. His extensive experience reading novels told him that this was a typical system bonus for transmigrators.

Taking a deep breath, Link silently commanded, "Open."

The screen displayed a crude animation of opening a treasure chest, then the system announced that the "Today's Treasure Chest" contained a $20 and a $50 bill. The "Starter Pack" included a bottle of hemostatic and a bottle of underwater breathing potion.

Seeing these modest rewards, Link couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time. The system wasn't as powerful as he had imagined.

Meanwhile, the other interns were busy analyzing clues. Fisher noticed the wound on the victim's chest and seemed to realize something; he quickly shouted to Link, "Link, hurry over to my desk and bring the third folder from the top right."

But Link seemed not to hear, still deep in thought. Fisher frowned and threw a pen at Link.

Thwack!

The pen whizzed through the air with a sharp whistling sound. Link instinctively caught it, and only then did he snap out of his system-induced trance and turn to Fisher.

A memory suddenly surfaced in his mind: during a recent mission, he had worked with Fisher and another intern named Mark. Due to mistakes made by Fisher and Mark, the criminal had escaped. Subsequently, Link's predecessor had 100 points deducted as a penalty, while Fisher and Mark only received verbal reprimands without any impact on their points.

This memory made Link realize he needed to be more careful and cautious in dealing with his colleagues while also quickly adapting to this new life with a system. Link's brow furrowed, anger filling his heart. The memory of his predecessor felt like a thorn deeply embedded in his chest. He remembered how his predecessor's face had turned ashen with rage, nearly suffocating with anger. But as an insignificant figure with no backing, in order to turn permanent as quickly as possible, he had no choice but to endure and bury that anger deep inside.

This submission had made Fisher increasingly arrogant, treating his predecessor as if he were a subordinate to be ordered around at will. Whenever Fisher barked orders, his predecessor always silently endured, never complaining. However, Link was not someone who could easily tolerate such treatment. His fists clenched, his eyes shimmered with a firm resolve, ready to teach Fisher a lesson.

Just then, Audrey noticed the commotion here. As one of the standout new interns, not only did she possess exceptional computer skills, but she also had an enviable appearance and figure. Seeing Fisher's arrogant demeanor, a surge of anger rose in her heart. She didn't hesitate to pick up her pen and throw it forcefully at Fisher, loudly questioning, "What are you doing? Can't you get your own things?"

Fisher was stunned by the pen hit, not expecting Audrey to stand up for him so directly. He snorted coldly, said nothing more, and silently picked up a notebook to start recording clues from the photos.

Audrey walked over to Link, comforting him, "Don't mind him; he's just a spoiled brat." Her voice was gentle yet firm, offering an inexplicable sense of comfort.

She picked up a few photos and sat down next to Link. She told him that this case was very important; catching the murderer would earn 80 points, enough to recover most of the points he had lost recently. Moreover, the case also had a $50,000 reward from the New York Journalists Association.

"$50,000?" Link's eyes lit up upon hearing this number. He remembered what the old assassin had told him, "I'm not interested in those crappy love stories. When I was young, all I wanted was to make money! What's the use of just envying others? We need to take action ourselves and become richer than them!"

This statement deeply touched Link's heart. He knew that only by becoming strong and wealthy could he truly change his fate. And now, that opportunity was right before him. He decided that he would seize this chance no matter what, to prove to himself and those who had looked down on him that he had the capability to change everything.