Chapter 181: Chuck: You Wish! The System's Nine-Panel Grid!
"What's going on?"
Chuck asked after closing the door and continuing to pack.
"Are you leaving?"
Angela looked at the calm Chuck. Her mood, which had been slightly loosened by the alcohol, immediately sobered up without the added atmosphere.
"The case is over, so I have to leave,"
Chuck said.
"What about Bones?"
Angela asked instinctively.
"What about her?"
Chuck asked back.
"..."
Angela was speechless. Only then did she truly understand the rationality of scientists conducting experiments and the division of labor between the principal investigator and the research assistant.
After giving her assistant Zack instructions, Dr. Bones did not follow up, let alone care about Zack's personal life.
But for her, an artist, this rationality was a bit cold, almost heartless.
"What's going on?"
Chuck had already finished packing and turned back to the stunned Angela, repeating his previous question.
"Can't I just come see you if there's nothing wrong?"
Angela wanted to get straight to the point, but when she met Chuck's overly calm gaze, the alcohol in her system made her tease instead, "A beautiful woman knocking on your door late at night—what do you think?"
"No!"
Chuck said bluntly. "I value my private time. You can't come to me without reason. As for calling yourself beautiful, no disrespect, but you're not above the experimental baseline, not even close. You don't have any qualifying status, no basis for any experiment. And you've been drinking—I haven't."
"Doesn't being Bones' best friend count as a qualifying status?"
Angela felt a little embarrassed and annoyed.
She was about to drop the pretense and get down to business, but the words just slipped out.
"No."
Chuck shook his head. "Don't even think about it."
"...What am I supposedly thinking about?"
Angela said, exasperated.
"When you proposed this idea, were you targeting me more or Bones more? You know the answer yourself."
Chuck looked at her calmly. "You wouldn't say something like that normally, so my advice is, stop drinking. It damages your nervous system and lowers your cognitive function."
Exactly!
Angela, like Kalinda Sharma—an investigator at Leonard's aunt's law firm in Chicago—possesses wide-ranging interests and capabilities.
Normally, this identity, combined with her role as a best friend, would serve as an interesting control group for experimentation.
However, Angela's appearance falls significantly short of the baseline, which substantially undermines her dual identity advantage.
Furthermore, this dual identity isn't uncommon in modern social circles, and is even quite prevalent.
Take, for example, Monica's best friends, Rachel and Phoebe. Not only do both meet the aesthetic baseline, but they also possess dual identities to varying degrees.
Moreover, this situation is widespread in contemporary society and is expected to become more common. Therefore, Angela's self-proclaimed qualifying status is completely meaningless.
"..."
Angela choked, her mouth agape. Seeing Chuck looking into her eyes, she instinctively averted her gaze. A thousand words finally condensed into one: "Let's get down to business. I'm here about Bones."
Chuck wasn't surprised, and remained silent, simply staring at her, waiting for further explanation.
"Do you know about Bones' family situation?"
Angela finally felt a little more at ease talking about the actual business. She looked at Chuck again and saw him shake his head, so she shrugged and explained, "Of course you don't know. You just left afterward and didn't have any deeper emotional connection with Bones.
But as Bones' best friend, I still have to tell you that Bones has always had unresolved trauma. Her parents suddenly disappeared when she was 15 years old and their whereabouts are still unknown. A happy family was shattered overnight.
Her ex-boyfriend Pete often complained that she was unwilling to maintain a long-term relationship because of this. Although we all don't like his psychological analysis, as a psychologist, Pete does have some insight.
I believe this assessment is accurate.
Since you are a detective and you're... close to Bones, you should help her resolve this trauma and help her find out what happened to her parents.
What do you say?"
"No!"
Chuck refused directly.
"Why not?"
Angela looked at him with dissatisfaction. "This would be easy for you. Isn't Bones even worthy of this small request?"
"She didn't ask."
Chuck directly pointed out the key issue. "You are not her, you can't make this decision for her."
"Why not?"
Angela said unconvincingly. "I am her best and only best friend! I feel I have the responsibility and right to make this decision for her!"
"No, you don't."
Chuck shook his head. "You are you, she is her. Once the truth is uncovered, if the truth is more painful than the current situation, then she will be the one who suffers the most, not you. Your identity as a best friend can only allow you to comfort her, but you can't bear this pain for her."
"But if I, as her only best friend, don't take any action, then God knows how long she will suppress these things?"
Angela said emotionally. "Did you know she has a biological brother? They had the best sibling relationship initially, but since their parents suddenly disappeared, they've become strangers. Beneath Bones' calm exterior, there are deep scars. If we don't help her heal, how long do you think it will take her, with her personality, to face this? A year? Ten years? Or a lifetime?"
"You can just tell her directly."
Chuck glanced at her, recognizing her loyalty as a best friend, and reminded her, "Let her make her own decision. She has my phone number. If she thinks it through and needs something, she will naturally call me."
"Can't you be more proactive?"
Angela looked at Chuck hopefully. "Come with me to talk to her and let her resolve this as soon as possible."
"Haste makes waste."
Chuck shook his head. "Everyone has their own pace. Let her make her own decision."
"Fine."
Seeing Chuck's firm attitude, Angela could only reluctantly agree, leaving behind a few bitter words as she left: "I, an ugly woman, won't stay here to pollute your vision."
As a mixed-race woman, she'd always been considered attractive. She'd studied art in college, so she had her own understanding of aesthetics and was confident her looks and temperament were comparable to anyone's. But when Chuck told her she wasn't even close to the experimental baseline, it was incredibly insulting.
She'd barely been able to tolerate it before, for her best friend's sake, but now, seeing Chuck's complete disregard, even though his rejection was well-reasoned, she felt deeply offended.
Chuck, silent, watched her leave, then adjusted his glasses, walked to the window, and peered out.
"Jerk!"
Angela muttered as she left. She'd been so optimistic about Chuck and her best friend, but this was the kind of assessment Chuck had given her.
On a tall building across the street, an older man in his fifties or sixties with a kind face was looking at Angela through binoculars, muttering to himself, "He is indeed a jerk."
"Even more of a jerk than you?"
At this moment, a calm voice sounded in the older man's ear, which made his hair stand on end. He rolled on the ground and dodged away from a face that appeared out of nowhere, almost touching his own, looking at the figure below.
"You!"
After dodging, the older man reflexively reached for the gun at his waist, but after being reminded by Chuck's gaze, he forced himself to lower his hand and stood up again. He didn't say anything, but just stared at Chuck intensely.
Chuck looked at him calmly.
The two of them were on the rooftop, staring at each other for a long time.
In the end, as expected, the older man was the first to break eye contact. When it came to staring contests, Chuck had never lost.
"Who are you?"
The older man looked away slightly. "Why did you suddenly appear here? And how did you get so close to me without me noticing?"
"You know who I am,"
Chuck said. "I don't like people calling me names."
"..."
The older man was speechless.
He simply didn't believe Chuck had come after him just for this. Were there superpowers in this world? How could he insult someone one second and have that person appear next to him the next?
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
the older man put away his binoculars, coughed lightly, and said dismissively, then slowly backed away, preparing to leave the rooftop.
"You're not going to stop me?"
The older man walked to the entrance and, seeing Chuck motionless, couldn't help but ask curiously.
"You expect me to stop you?"
Chuck asked back.
The older man gave Chuck a penetrating look. "You know who I am?"
"Yes,"
Chuck nodded.
"Who am I?"
the older man asked.
"To Angela, someone worse than a jerk,"
Chuck said bluntly.
The older man was silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly. "How did you know?"
"I'm a detective,"
Chuck said. "You had plastic surgery, but not on your eyes or ears."
"You can confirm my identity based on my eyes and ears?"
The older man looked at Chuck in disbelief.
"Eyes alone can, ears alone can, but both together make it certain,"
Chuck said matter-of-factly. "Everyone's eyes and ears are unique biometric markers."
The older man stared at Chuck in amazement, speechless for a long time. If everyone was like Chuck, wouldn't his plastic surgery be pointless? He could probably figure out how to modify his ears, but he couldn't do the same with his eyes, could he?
"Wait, that's not right!"
The older man suddenly realized something, looking at Chuck warily. "You told Angela you don't know her family situation!"
"I don't,"
Chuck said calmly. "But that doesn't stop me from seeing photographs. I assume you witnessed me being invited to Bones' house for an experiment."
"..."
The older man's jaw twitched. As the girl's father, he wanted to curse. What the hell was this "invited to do an experiment"?
But he had no right to object, because what Chuck said was technically accurate.
That's right!
He was the man Angela had come to see Chuck about tonight: Dr. Bones' biological father, who had suddenly disappeared with her mother when she was fifteen.
He'd had changed his name, but he'd always stayed close to Bones, watching over her from a distance.
He'd witnessed Bones calling Chuck late at night, unable to sleep.
While he disapproved of this lifestyle, he couldn't say anything about it.
Tonight, Angela, his daughter's best friend, had been drinking and knocked on the door of the man his daughter had just been intimate with. As a father, he immediately followed and secretly monitored the situation, fearing that Angela, his daughter's only best friend, might also be duplicitous.
To his relief, Angela wasn't—a genuinely good friend.
What infuriated him was that Chuck was indeed a jerk, too rational and cold.
"Listen, kid!"
The older man's eyes changed, and his whole demeanor shifted, becoming somewhat menacing. He looked directly at Chuck. "Since you know who I am, then hear this: from now on, stay away from her."
"I'll repeat myself: she has my phone number and will call me if she needs anything."
Chuck was indifferent to the old man's sudden change in demeanor. "This is her choice."
"Then you can also make your own choice and refuse to answer her call."
The old man narrowed his eyes. "I've checked you out. I don't deny that you are indeed very capable, but the greater the ability, the greater the trouble you attract. Look at the people you've provoked. I regularly see your name on assassination contracts on the dark web. I honestly don't know how you've survived until now. I don't want her getting close to such a dangerous person like you. I want to protect her!"
"I doubt your capability."
Chuck said calmly. "Maybe you have some skills, but those skills aren't sufficient to back up your claims. Otherwise, you would have dared to show up and meet your daughter after all these years."
"What do you know?!"
The old man said emotionally. "I'm doing this for her safety. You have no idea how dangerous those people are."
"The dead aren't scary,"
Chuck said bluntly. "Especially for Bones. The most reassuring thing for her would be the dead—those who've been dead for so long that only bones remain."
"..."
The old man fell silent.
He understood what Chuck meant. If he truly had the ability, he would have eliminated all the dangerous people who could threaten his daughter's safety long ago. After so many years, their graves would have overgrown with weeds and only skeletons would remain. That would have been the best outcome for his daughter.
Of course, he wanted to.
But he couldn't do it!
If anyone else had said this, he would have scoffed at them for being naive. But for Chuck, who had the means to shock him, these words didn't seem like empty boasts.
Perhaps if Chuck had been in his position, he could have done it, and father and daughter, and father and son, would have been reunited long ago.
"How did you know I was here?"
The old man suppressed his turbulent thoughts, calmed down, and asked a technical question. Without waiting for Chuck's answer, he continued, "Right, I cloned Angela's phone and can monitor her communications, but signals always leave traces. You're so capable, you wouldn't tolerate this disguised surveillance of you. You must have countermeasures to monitor signal transmissions around you and track back to the source."
Chuck didn't react.
The old man was right, but he didn't need to actively monitor anything.
He had Anna!
Seeing that his aggression had no effect on Chuck, the old man subdued his aura, transforming back into his most harmless and kind persona. He gave Chuck a deep look and disappeared through the rooftop entrance.
New Hampshire
The Sanctuary
Underground Chamber
Anna, a young woman in white, stared at the densely packed array of screens. The center one showed a rooftop view of Washington D.C.
On the screen immediately to the left of the small center monitor, a masked man armed with guns charged into a scene filled with costumed gang members dressed as demons and monsters, slaughtering them relentlessly. The grotesque gang members howled and screamed, and a young man bound in the middle burst into simultaneous laughter and tears of shock. Neither the screaming nor the gunfire could suppress his emotional release.
On the screen immediately to the right of the small center monitor, a young woman in red diligently practiced her martial arts, performing combat rolls and firing miniature projectiles from her wrist-mounted launchers, hitting targets with pinpoint accuracy.
On the screen immediately below the small center monitor, a delicate young girl gazed at a portrait of herself. She walked to a mirror, looking at her reflection, a mysterious yet slightly sinister smile playing on the left corner of her lips.
On the upper right corner screen, slightly offset from the small center monitor, an ordinary-looking young woman hammered a wooden stake into the ground outside a suburban villa.
In the lower right corner, on a screen slightly offset from the small center monitor, a smiling man strolled through a shopping mall with his adorable daughter and his beautiful wife.
In the upper left corner, on a screen slightly offset from the small center monitor, a South Asian professional woman in a black pencil skirt and high heels was casing a doorway. When discovered, her expression instantly changed and she began spinning a cover story, which dispelled the building manager's suspicions, prompting him to take out his keys, open the door, and grant her access to the room.
A little further to the left, a man with a medical examiner's ID badge observed a crime scene. He listened to his bald Asian colleague's inappropriate jokes, a stiff smile frozen on his face.
Anna, the young woman in white, reached out her hand tremblingly and operated the keyboard for a moment. On a screen further away, the figure of the older man disappeared and reappeared on the left side of the center screen arrangement, to the left of the masked man who was executing gang members, below the screen showing the medical examiner with the stiff smile.
(End of Chapter)
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