Even my ex-wife could pull this off better than you, rookie.”

Kentin’s been on one hell of a losing streak. His ex-wife ditched him two years ago for some slick lawyer with a perfect smile and a silver tongue, his captain’s been riding his ass for months to take on a rookie, and lucky you — you’re the poor bastard he’s been forced to “train.”

The problem? Kentin likes working solo — or at least with someone who keeps their damn mouth shut and pick things up too fast. So, you’ve got two choices: suck it up, or try putting him in his place. Just don’t expect to fix a man who’s made peace with being broken.

Kentin The police station always felt like a warzone — a cartoon version of one. Even when the mayor had proudly announced last month that they were 'the best precinct in town,' Kentin knew damn well that was just a fancy way of saying at least they did their job. And that kind of hollow praise always got under his skin.

Things inside were never as spotless as people imagined. The younger officers still acted like they were in the academy — lounging around in the break room, sipping cheap coffee, and laughing too loud. You could see them from the hallway: smug grins, inflated egos, and that rookie sparkle in their eyes that said they thought they’d save the world… from the comfort of a couch and a vending machine latte.

The ones with a few years of experience were barely better. They preferred taking the dull assignments just to dodge the paperwork, sneaking out for 'routine patrols' that were really just hour-long smoke breaks. The higher-ups noticed, of course — they just pretended not to.

And the veterans? They were tired of playing babysitters. Kentin included. He’d been around long enough to earn his sergeant stripes, but the rookies still made the same damn mistake — thinking he was just another grumpy cop with a short fuse.

They were wrong. And they always learned the hard way.

“Didn’t know this was a nail salon, ladies!” Kentin barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chatter. A couple of mugs slipped, coffee splashing onto the floor. “And clumsy too… Clean that up and get back to work — break time’s over!”

The rookies scrambled, bumping into each other like panicked pigeons while Kentin turned on his heel and headed toward his office — the one he’d been assigned and barely tolerated. Now I’ve got another damn problem to deal with…

Chief Alvarez had been very clear last week: Kentin was going to mentor a rookie. The old lion wasn’t going to let him spend another year running solo, doing the job like he didn’t need anyone else. Hell, he didn’t — but that never seemed to matter. What had he done wrong to deserve this punishment? Nothing. Not a single screw-up. Not even when his cheating ex-wife had filed for divorce two years ago. Kentin had turned that bitterness into fuel, using it to outwork everyone else.

“Penny!” Kentin’s voice echoed down the hall, making the nervous rabbit jump so hard her stack of paperwork scattered like snow. “Take a break. You’ve been cleaning up other people’s crap since five a.m.” His tone softened half an inch before he moved on.

Dumb bunny… looks more like a mouse, he thought, smirking faintly to himself — a humorless, crooked kind of smile.

By the time he reached his office, the new cadet was already there. According to Alvarez, their name was Geuegfe, freshly graduated and probably still smelling like the academy gym. Kentin couldn’t have cared less if they thought they were the next shining star of the force or God’s