附近人100块钱上门

He gazed at the thick curtains, tracing the intricate silk patterns with his eyes before speaking softly, “I don’t want our relationship to be marred by deceit and manipulation.”

“Neither do I,” Ji Lin responded, his hands buried in his pockets. “So why not just tell me the truth? Do you really think I’d betray you after all these years? We’re like grasshoppers tied to the same string.”

He paused, then continued, “You raised me. Despite our differing goals, we’ve both worked tirelessly to secure an invitation to the Genius Club. Doesn’t that count for something? Doesn’t it speak to our trust? Or are you worried that revealing the truth might compromise our chances?”

A heavy silence fell between them.

Finally, the old man turned, his hands clasped behind his back, and faced Ji Lin. “I’m unsure. But I cannot afford to take that risk.”

He swallowed before adding, “You are brilliant, Ji Lin, truly a genius. But even geniuses can err. They misjudge situations and face problems they can’t solve. You must trust that our actions are justified. Everything we have done is correct.”

Ji Lin scoffed. “So we’re the good guys now? Only children talk in terms of heroes and villains.”

“And what do adults talk about then? Convictions?” the old man replied, his gaze steady. “It’s about what you believe.”

“Well, I’d prefer to remain a child,” Ji Lin retorted, slumping into the chair the old man had vacated, crossing his legs. “Convictions sound too much like hypocrisy to me.”

“But no one can stay a child forever, Ji Lin.”

Ji Lin’s eyes drifted to the crackling fireplace. “If, as you claim, eliminating those who distort history is right, does that make their actions wrong?”

“They aren’t necessarily wrong either.” The old man removed his black felt hat and placed it over a newspaper on a nearby table. The front page featured an obituary for Xu Yun, showing a photograph of him young and vibrant.

He sighed as he covered the image with his hat. “That’s why allowing them to die at 00:42 is the highest respect we can offer.”

“What exactly is 00:42?” Ji Lin asked, swinging his legs. “And why 42? What’s the obsession with this number?”

“You might want to find that out for yourself, Ji Lin.” The old man glanced down. “Perhaps that’s the real key to the Genius Club.”

He pulled a chair up to the table and sat down. “Can we get back to work now, Ji Lin? Have you identified the first suspect?”

Ji Lin nodded. “Technically, we’ve identified the first person to investigate. We still lack enough evidence to prove they’re tampering with history.”

“Exactly, we need concrete proof. We can’t afford to wrongfully accuse someone. One mistake, and the Genius Club will reject us permanently.” The old man glanced at the newspaper hidden under his hat. “Those two cars… you managed them well. The police haven’t found them yet.”

“They never will,” Ji Lin exhaled sharply. “It wasn’t that complicated. If they’d watched ‘Fast and Furious,’ they’d understand how those cars disappeared.”

“It’s too late now. Even if they find them, it wouldn’t change anything. With you, we can solve 90% of our problems.”

“I have a suggestion, though,” Ji Lin said, playing with his fingernail. “Every action leaves a trace. If similar incidents keep occurring, people will notice. We haven’t attracted attention yet because there haven’t been enough cases. Xu Yun is just the first. Can you vary the method? I know it has to be precisely between 00:42 and 00:43, but are there alternatives to car accidents?”

“No,” the old man shook his head firmly. “It has to be car accidents.”

“So, you’re a copycat.”

“Call it what you will, Ji Lin, but I won’t be provoked.”

“One last question.”

Ji Lin looked at the old man, outlined against the moonlight streaming through the window. “How do we prove someone is distorting history? It seems we lack an original timeline for comparison.”

“That’s your challenge, Ji Lin,” the old man said, looking down. “This person is different from the others. The previous disruptors were likely unintentional. But this one… I believe he’s actively meddling with history. We don’t yet know his motives or his intentions. Proving his interference is the hardest part. But I believe you’ll figure it out. Maybe you already have.”

“You’re good at shifting responsibility.”

Ji Lin didn’t respond. After years together, they understood each other too well. “But I might need to leak some information about us, about the Genius Club. Are you comfortable with that?”

“It’s acceptable,” the old man replied, “as long as it helps us prove his interference with history. Some sacrifices are necessary, but we must not harm the innocent. That is paramount.”

“I’m tired of your inconsistent morals,” Ji Lin stretched lazily. “This will be a challenging battle. We seem to have the upper hand, lurking in the shadows while he’s exposed. But in reality, we’re constrained by too many rules. We must substantiate his interference without alerting him to our motives. Otherwise, we might be the ones to fall. If he truly has the ability to alter history, eliminating us might not be difficult for him. Once we begin our investigation, he’ll become aware and go into hiding. It’s a reciprocal hunt.”

“I believe in you, Ji Lin.” The old man was confident. “You’re the brightest mind I know. This disruptor may have capabilities we don’t understand, but he can’t outsmart you. He probably hasn’t sensed the danger yet. So… there’s no reason we should lose this cat-and-mouse game.”

“You’re too optimistic, and arrogant.” Ji Lin returned to his earlier spot, lying amid a stack of magazines. He rested his head on his hands and eyed the Rhine Cat mascot on the bookshelf. “I’ve made it clear. This cat-and-mouse game is mutual. In our hide-and-seek with this disruptor, whoever reveals their identity or intentions first… loses.”

The Rhine Cat’s cheerful, cute expression, with its bun head and cheongsam, was striking.

“I do love playing games.” Ji Lin pinched the Rhine Cat’s ear, lifting it in the air and observing its eyes wobble. “In this cat-and-mouse game… Who’s the cat, and who’s the mouse?”