Chapter 15, Episode 11: Now it's my turn to be happy...
Episode 11 Now it's my turn to be happy!
Albert's actions were despicable; he exploited people's sense of shame to gain an advantage.
Unfortunately, he knew neither the upper limit of my rationality and reaction ability, nor the lower limit of my bottom line and sense of shame.
I gave a cold laugh, casually wiped my lips with a tissue, and said, "Since you're so disgusted, why did you look at it for so long? Only you know what you were looking at."
In my words, I exuded a strong sense of confidence.
Albert raised an eyebrow, about to speak, when I grabbed a tissue from his desk and smeared it in his mouth, then crumpled it into a ball before he could react.
"You're the filthy one."
I've destroyed all the evidence, so how is this guy supposed to talk now?
London: "You seem to have lost your temper, you deliberately scratched his face."
Me: "Don't worry about that, let's see if he dares to talk back to me again."
Albert merely glanced at the crumpled paper that had been tossed far away, clearly showing no interest in investigating whether there were any "traces" inside. His blue eyes flickered, obviously weighing the matter, and I even felt him stare at me.
Before he could speak, Manager Richie, who was trying to get my attention, said with a smile, "You two have a really good relationship."
Albert immediately scoffed, "That's the funniest joke I've heard all year."
I immediately cut him off from his ambiguous statement, "What, as if you weren't the one who came up to me on your own initiative?"
I need to make my position clear to Moriarty.
Cooperation is negotiable, but it must be on equal footing.
Charity or groveling?
I, He Ji, am not that kind of person.
As soon as Albert finished speaking, a nearly sarcastic smile curled at the corner of his lips. "So you're that eager to get along with me? Can't you even accept a simple refusal?"
My eyelashes trembled slightly.
Has this brat's mouth just been sharpened with a whetstone?
How can it be so profitable?
I immediately asked London, "Is he going to fight me?"
London was completely unsupportive and even ignored my feelings: "Don't get hung up on such a trivial matter. You know perfectly well that the manager was just saying it casually."
I protested, "The issue isn't the manager; it's that this Albert is rebelling."
My strong emotional management skills allowed me to remain completely calm, and I even learned from him to always have a very faint and fleeting smile before speaking.
"I only invited you to a meal, and you thought I was trying to curry favor with you, Mr. Albert. You got so carried away that you couldn't even see where you were sitting."
I stared at him, as if I were ready to make a run for it at any moment, my whole body on high alert.
bring it on!
Let's fight!
I am filled with fighting spirit.
Before things could get really heated, the staff brought out the dessert. It was served in a glass filled with ice cream, but with added carbonation. As it was brought over, I heard a series of tiny, crackling sounds coming from inside the glass, like a naive, lively, and eye-catching celebration taking place in that microscopic world.
My eyes couldn't help but twitch as well.
Secretary Jenny seized the opportunity to say, "Boss, please stop arguing. This is champagne grapefruit sorbet; it won't taste good if it melts."
I rationally looked up and replied, "I didn't make a fuss."
"Please eat quickly," Jenny said, placing the spoon on my bowl.
The next second, Jenny said to Albert seriously, "Please show some respect to my boss. How can you speak to him like that?"
"Exactly!" I immediately cheered for myself in my heart, "Look how pitiful I am, so sensitive and fragile, I can't even speak properly anymore."
London tried to hold me down: "Let's stop joking around."
Albert's pupils flickered, but he didn't say anything more.
Manager Richie was stunned by our heated debate just now, and instead, as the desserts were served, he didn't say another word.
This minor incident should have ended there.
I almost forgot why I watched Albert in the first place.
But just as I was enjoying the delicious food, I suddenly caught a glimpse of young Mr. Robert gazing at Albert.
His pupils twitched slightly, and his eyelids slid down, the movement extremely small; but at the exact same moment, the corner of Albert's eye on the other side also twitched slightly in unison. Then, Albert's fingers moved on the spoon, as if he had caught the invisible and hidden Morse code from the other.
This happened in almost a second or two.
To others, it was an illusion in their vision, or they might think it was a meaningless action between the two of them.
But my first thought was that the two of them knew each other.
If the two of them know each other, then on the surface it seems like I'm setting a trap for Moriarty, making him witness his plan fail. But in reality, it's a scheme orchestrated by both of them.
If they're not here to trick me, then they absolutely need me to do something for them.
Thinking about this made me inexplicably happy.
No wonder Mr. Robert was willing to cooperate with the demonstration of using the radio even at 11 p.m., and Albert was not surprised by this variable, but instead subconsciously observed me.
Very good.
I laughed and said, "I guess my original plan is most likely to go wrong."
London's voice remained calm: "So, what kind of wicked idea have you come up with this time?"
"No one knows me better than London," I said, "but there's no rush. Let's hold back for now."
There are two reasons for not telling.
One thing is, I really didn't expect Robert to play this role here.
If Moriarty truly intended for the Baker Street heist to succeed, he certainly wouldn't want anyone to notice the operation beforehand. Therefore, Robert, being present, couldn't predict Lloyds Bank's movements as he did in the original story, otherwise he would have disrupted Moriarty's plans.
Furthermore, this matter doesn't make sense either.
Because I was the one who actively sought out this person, they themselves didn't know why I specifically wanted to find Robert.
How can they accurately plan their actions?
In other words, if they came to me on purpose, then their actions would be quite clear.
They need someone to report this.
If they hadn't found me, they might have gone to other newspapers.
I just happened to walk right in front of them.
In other words, the Baker Street robbery was just a smokescreen; they had another matter they wanted to spread through the media and by taking advantage of Milwaukee's greedy nature.
Their real plans are unclear at the moment, so I can't say what else I can do.
I twitched my fingers, then continued to eat my dessert slowly and deliberately.
Another reason I won't say is that I don't trust London.
So far, London has been withholding too much information from me.
This could be due to its own personality, or it could be due to a lack of trust in my abilities.
And all my actions happened to be right under its nose, including sending someone to find Robert.
This step came without any prior cause, so theoretically, Robert should simply follow the established pattern. But now I've noticed that Robert is acting strangely at this crucial juncture.
Is that possible—
Is London also helping other factions at the same time?
When it noticed my unusual behavior, it also spread the word.
So Robert was also substituted by Moriarty.
You should know that I have never trusted the "one-to-one binding system document" setting.
My understanding is that a person's abilities are limited.
If I were a system, and I wanted to achieve a big goal, I would never put all my eggs in one basket.
Whether relying on risk theory or balance theory, an all-in strategy like one-to-one binding is like a novice who doesn't know how to play a game better, so they choose a character that is not easy to fail and let it develop on its own.
Of course, from a purely fictional perspective, if you want to have a cheat code, then there's no need to discuss the underlying logic.
I am now in the real world, facing the situation London described as "I am very likely to die".
In other words, my very desire to survive is a massive prisoner's dilemma game.
Not to mention London, I don't even believe Jenny and Herbers.
After all, the great scientist Albert Einstein once said, "The only things in the world that are endless are the universe and human stupidity."
I believe in the infinity of the universe, and I also believe that I am someone who can be ridiculously stupid at any time.
Since I only have one life, my best strategy is to "never entrust my trust to anyone".
Today, I'll see whether this Robert is Moriarty's man or a Londoner's man.
I continued slowly and deliberately to London, "The more chaotic the situation, the clearer my vision becomes."
*
11 p.m.
At Robert Rowlands' home.
The five of us gathered in Mr. Robert's study.
He has a complete set of highly professional radio frequency sweeping equipment.
Wireless communication in modern society is very different from that of the 1970s.
Ordinary walkie-talkie channels are no longer easily selected by outsiders; most frequencies are now encrypted or FM-processed.
Therefore, it would be almost impossible today to simply tune into a band and connect to the robbers' public channel, just like in the original story.
However, we must also believe that miracles, chances, coincidences, accidents, and deliberate arrangements exist in this world.
“You’ve come at a very opportune time. These past few days have been quite special.” Mr. Robert skillfully adjusted the equipment in his hands. “The International Space Station (ISS) will fly over London, rising above the horizon we can see, and moving to another horizon and setting.”
He looked up at me, his expression devoid of a smile, focused solely on explaining.
“At times like these, we HAMs would stay in front of our small devices and call the ISS astronauts through the window in the sky for three to six minutes.”
Secretary Jenny asked curiously, "How long does it usually take to get in touch?"
Robert looked back at her and said, "The window is very short, it's hard to say. We have to wait for the ideal angle, and it might take days or even weeks to prepare, just for those few minutes."
"A few minutes?" Jenny's eyes widened in surprise, and she subconsciously looked down to examine the equipment.
“That’s right.” Robert nodded. “And the astronauts just have to be on the channel and willing to respond. We have to wait days or even weeks for those three minutes. That’s how we are at HAM.”
After saying this, he continued to look down at his frequency.
Of the four of us, only Jenny had any curiosity; the other three, or rather, just me and Manager Richie, clearly had absolutely no interest in this part.
Manager Richie originally came along because the atmosphere was lively, everyone else agreed, and he had also mentioned that he was single and had nothing else to do at home, so he came along with the intention of having fun and making friends.
But who knows how long it will take to contact the ISS astronauts? The thought of wasting time made it hard to hide the desire to go home and rest.
As for me, I hate boredom the most. It's impossible for me to sit quietly in a corner and wait for a result that will never come to pass.
I was hesitant about whether to play along or have them search for channels near the city.
Especially now that it's already 11 o'clock, I'm feeling a bit sleepy just looking at the time.
never mind.
My eyes flickered, and I casually said, "Then I'll head back now."
Upon hearing this, Albert and Robert both looked up simultaneously, "..."
Jenny was also surprised. "Mr. Milworth, aren't you going to read to the end?"
“Didn’t he say it might take days or weeks to contact the astronauts?” I shrugged and explained, “There’s no point in a bunch of us just waiting around. It’ll only make Mr. Robert feel embarrassed and put him under more pressure. After all, so many of us have been waiting, and then nothing happens…”
I said, "As a young person with a sense of shame, I would definitely feel bad about it."
"It would be better to set up a camera here for a live broadcast. If we do manage to make contact with the astronauts, this could be used as video footage."
This was exactly what Manager Richie wanted to hear.
He naturally echoed, "Mr. Milverton makes a good point. It's not practical for a group of people to wait for several days. I actually have some things to do tomorrow, and I can't stay out all night waiting too long."
Robert's gaze then turned to Albert.
Albert, being a respectable man, was naturally responsible for maintaining appearances and wouldn't put anyone in an awkward situation. He said, "Mr. Rowlands has sincerely invited us to his home, so it wouldn't be right for us to leave immediately."
He looked around and noticed the projector in the study. "We can wait here for two hours and watch a movie. If there's nothing there, we can go back later."
Manager Rich hesitated, then looked in my direction, hoping I would give my opinion.
Because he came with me.
If I stay, he will naturally stay with me.
If I leave, he definitely won't stay.
I thought for a moment, "Then what movie should we watch?"
With a single sentence, the focus shifted from Robert to me. By subtly exploiting their rebellious nature, I got them to consciously limit their time to "two hours."
Albert didn't want to completely follow my likes and dislikes, so he turned to the only girl and said, "Ladies first."
Isn't this just like watching a romantic movie?
I'd like to watch an animated movie.
"Can I watch a horror movie?" Jenny asked shyly.
I was immediately stunned: "..."
London: "So you're afraid of horror movies?"
Albert also noticed my silence: "Mr. Milverton, do you feel uncomfortable watching horror movies?"
Of course, I couldn't back down. "I've already seen all the good ones, and there haven't been any interesting horror movies lately. I don't want to watch any horror movies."
Jenny didn't delve into whether I genuinely had no interest or whether she had other options to continue.
So she quickly said, "Can I watch a romance movie?"
She really is a girl.
Milwaukee was not surprised, Robert had no objection, Manager Richie didn't care, and I thought it was better than a horror movie.
Five minutes later, the four of us men were sitting on pins and needles, looking at each other in bewilderment as we watched the classic film "Brokeback Mountain".
Jenny, sitting at the front, glanced back as she handed us popcorn and noticed that each of us was at least one person's distance apart; it seemed even the air maintained a strict and polite social distance.
She was laughing so hard her whole body was shaking.
I think she must be very happy.
That's truly enviable.
My gaze instinctively swept towards the radio device, but before it could linger, it was first captured by the shadow on the wall.
In the silhouette of the sofa chair, Albert's figure was leaning slightly forward, and the silhouette cast on the wall clearly showed that he was looking down at me, who was also sitting on the carpet.
That wasn't a casual glance, but the focused, calm, and dangerous concentration of a hunter on prey that had come into view.
A cold, numbing sensation exploded up my spine, instantly spreading across my entire back.
But I didn't move, not even the slightest tremor of my eyelashes was controlled to the millimeter, as if I were completely unaware of that gaze. But when I merely raised my shoulder slightly, my shadow underwent a new change.
He was indeed staring at me.
Before the icy numbness on my spine had faded, an even more surging and burning shiver rose from the deepest part of my heart, instantly sweeping through my limbs and bones.
It's like a new toy popping up on your door when you're bored; now it's my turn to be happy.
A note from the author:
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The next chapter will be told from a third-person perspective. Please leave comments if you like it, thank you!
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