附近人100块钱上门

“That old ghost Copernicus,” Lin Xian muttered, shaking his head. “He’s like a shadow that never goes away.”

For twenty years, not a single question—and now, suddenly, Copernicus wanted answers, pointing directly at Lin Xian. No conferences in four or five years, yet the moment he showed up, it was just to stir up trouble.

But, on the other hand, Lin Xian thought, maybe this was a good sign. Maybe it meant that Copernicus didn’t know everything just yet in 2024.

He had his suspicions before. The real and fake Yu Xi, after traveling through time to 2024, might have someone here helping them, exchanging information. But based on what he’d seen today, that theory seemed off the mark. It looked like Copernicus knew little about time travel—and certainly, no one had given him any crucial details.

Now, everything depended on how “Einstein” would respond to him.

Lin Xian focused his gaze on the elder seated at the high podium. After a few moments, the old man, still sitting straight, took a deep breath and spoke slowly:

“In both established history and future pathways, there is more than one researcher working on time travel theory. You could ask any of them.” He paused briefly. “So, could you specify whom you wish to find?”

Copernicus chuckled dryly, seemingly satisfied with the response.

“Obviously,” he said, “I want the one closest to my own time. The sooner, the better. My old bones can’t afford to wait any longer than necessary.”

The old man wearing the Einstein mask gave a knowing smile.

“Sorry, Copernicus,” he said. “Or perhaps… this was your plan all along. Either way, regarding your clarified question, my answer is this—” He paused, his tone deliberate. “I refuse to answer. Your question is invalid.”

For a moment, the room fell silent. The geniuses around the table exchanged glances—some confused, others understanding.

Everyone in the room was sharp. It didn’t take long for them to figure out what had happened. Because of the “Three Question Principles,” only two scenarios would make “Einstein” refuse to answer.

One was if the question involved the Genius Club itself. The other was if it concerned the privacy, plans, actions, or identities of other members.

Clearly, it wasn’t the first scenario—if it were, Einstein would have refused from the beginning instead of letting Copernicus clarify his question.

Which meant only one thing—

The answer involved the privacy of another Genius Club member, so it couldn’t be shared!

Lin Xian glanced around, pretending to be puzzled like everyone else. He looked to his left at Gauss, then to his right at Newton—just observing.

Copernicus just laughed quietly.

“I see,” he said casually. “So, someone here got there before me, eh? Who could it be?”

He looked around the room, his masked gaze drifting from Newton to Da Vinci, then to Lin Xian. Then he turned his head, scanning Gauss, Galileo… each face, one by one.

“Interesting,” he said with a smirk, spreading his hands. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if one of you managed to build the time travel machine. It’d make things easier for me. Even just a little borrowing would be fine.”

Gauss, who was small and frail, swallowed nervously.

“Is… is it Newton?” he asked hesitantly. “How did you—”

“Yes, it’s me,” Newton interrupted, his voice firm, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “I asked Einstein a similar question before, just less specific. But it was enough to get me on the right track for time travel.”

“So, Copernicus, forget it. As long as I’m alive, you’ll never get your hands on this.” Newton shot him a glare. “Why don’t you do what you said—hibernate, wait a few centuries, and hope future medicine buys you a few more years? Or have you finally regretted everything? Planning to go back in time and kick your younger self for murdering innocent scientists?”

Da Vinci let out a giggle. She could tell Newton was simply toying with Copernicus.

She was one of the early members of the Genius Club and was well aware of the rivalry between Newton and Copernicus—their views on science were so different, like oil and water.

But, thankfully, despite all their gatherings throughout the last century, they had always remained civil. Real fights had never broken out. Their relationship, however, had soured dramatically over the years, especially due to Copernicus’s increasingly ruthless behavior.

In the matter of scientists’ treatment, Da Vinci was firmly on Newton’s side.

“Copernicus,” she said, smiling. “You are quite the contradiction, aren’t you? On one hand, you benefit from technological advancements—enjoying the best medical care, sleeping in cryo-chambers to prolong your life, and dreaming of time travel. On the other hand, you strike at the very scientists who made all this possible.”

She shook her head. “Isn’t that selfish and hypocritical? If not for advancements in medicine and cryo-tech, we wouldn’t even see you here today. Yet, despite it all, you stick to that monstrous future plan of yours?”

Copernicus coughed twice, seemingly unbothered by Da Vinci’s criticism. He gave a faint smile.

“What if… it all turns out to be worth it, Miss Da Vinci?” he asked, his voice calm. “Gentle measures won’t change human nature. Just like your ‘example’ hasn’t changed me—you can’t change the rest of humanity either.”

He leaned back. “I dislike attending these meetings because you all think too small. Though, I can’t fully blame you—you joined late and missed a lot. There’s much you don’t know, much you fail to realize.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Still, there’s no need for me to explain it to you. Time will reveal the truth. Anyway, my question ends here. Your turn, my old friend Newton.”

Newton sniffed, clearly not eager to continue the debate.

Perhaps he really was in a rush to take his grandkids to the amusement park.

“I have no questions today,” Newton said softly.

Lin Xian sighed internally. As the newest member of the Genius Club, he hoped that each of them would ask valuable questions and share useful answers, so he could gather some important information.

But now… it seemed like these geniuses had been part of the Club for decades. With twelve meetings a year and twelve questions each year, they must have asked hundreds of questions by now. Maybe everything they wanted to know had already been asked, and their foundations were set. Their future plans were on steady ground.

In comparison, newer members like himself lagged behind, both in information and progress.

Next, it was No.4’s turn—Galileo.

The middle-aged man spoke in his usual formal tone.

“When will the next revolutionary or groundbreaking discovery in astronomy occur?”

Einstein didn’t hesitate.

“March 27, 2077.”

Galileo let out a long breath.

“So far away… I guess I’ll need to hibernate.”

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes. That was a perfect question. No one but Galileo would know the real meaning of the answer.

Not that Lin Xian could even comprehend the question. It was all way beyond him.

Then, it was No.5’s turn. Miss Da Vinci smiled and said simply:

“I have no questions.”

Lin Xian felt disappointed again. It was clear these veteran members were well aware of their goals and plans—they knew exactly how they’d achieve them. Their thinking was sharp and focused.

As long as they chose not to ask questions, Lin Xian would never be able to understand their plans or goals.

It was cunning, really. They didn’t need to ask anymore; they just listened to the newcomers like Lin Xian provide answers—they had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

He was the ninth member. Elon Musk and Turing were seventh and eighth, respectively. No wonder their identities were widely known.

Most likely, while the veteran members remained silent, the newer ones—Elon Musk and Turing included—had asked endlessly at every gathering. The more they asked, the more personal information they leaked, making it easier for enemies to target them.

It was a delicate balance that was nearly impossible to get right.

Then it was No.6 Gauss’s turn to ask. Lin Xian silently hoped for something valuable—anything that could offer him some useful information.

So far, he hadn’t gained a thing, and soon, he’d likely have to spill some of his own secrets to these veterans.

It all depended on Gauss now.

Finally, Gauss didn’t disappoint. The small figure spoke slowly.

“If we want to enhance human physical ability, neural response, and brain activity in 2024, which direction should we start researching?”

Einstein shook his head.

“None. A critical gene-editing technology has yet to be developed. We’ll need to wait until around 2100 before we can properly begin enhancing the human body and gene-editing.”

Lin Xian gazed quietly at Einstein. Because of Newton and Da Vinci’s refusal to ask, and Copernicus’s invalid question, Einstein had only answered two questions so far—and both were unverifiable.

First, he said there would be a major breakthrough in astronomy in 2077. Then, he told Gauss that by 2100, humanity would begin enhancing bodies and gene-editing.

It all sounded impressive, omniscient. But honestly? Lin Xian found it no different from what a charlatan fortune teller would say—lofty claims that couldn’t be proven anytime soon.

He still didn’t fully believe Einstein had the power to foresee every second of the future.

Which meant… he needed proof.

Lin Xian had three reasons for joining the Genius Club:

First, he wanted to find out the truth behind the “Millennium Stake” and bring back Chu An Qing.

That was his top priority—the main reason he chose to join the Genius Club. But before pursuing that answer, he needed to be sure that Einstein wasn’t just another fraud.

Otherwise, Einstein might just draw him a massive lie—like telling him to hibernate for 200 years to find out. He couldn’t be foolish enough to actually do that.

If it was a genuine way to bring back Chu An Qing, then he’d do it. But what if, 200 years later, it turned out to be a dead end—just a trick? He’d be devastated.

Secondly, he wanted answers about the dream world, the 00:42 white light, and the universe’s constants—so many mysteries.

But without knowing if Einstein could actually see the future or if he was just a clever trickster, Lin Xian couldn’t risk asking. Revealing his dreams and his glimpses into the future—it would make him far too vulnerable.

Finally, his third reason for joining—to fulfill his promise to Angelica and seek revenge alongside her.

It seemed likely that the one who killed Ji Lin’s parents was Copernicus.

If that were true, then it would be perfect.

It wasn’t just Angelica who had a grudge against Copernicus—Lin Xian did too. A grudge so deep they couldn’t coexist.

First, there was the fourth dream where Copernicus had sent people to surround him, aiming to kill him with electric guns.

Then, there was the time-space assassin Lin Yu Xi, sent by Copernicus to murder him.

Now, thinking back, Lin Xian could only see it as Copernicus’s deliberate and vile scheme. Had he really sent Yu Xi, brainwashed and manipulated, to kill her own father?

It was such a sickening, twisted act!

From the moment Lin Xian laid eyes on Copernicus, he had regarded him as enemy number one.

And it wasn’t just Lin Xian who had a bone to pick with him.

Xu Yun’s death, Tang Xin’s death—they all traced back to Copernicus.

Based on Ji Lin Shui’s confession, combined with what had been said during this meeting, it wasn’t hard to deduce that Xu Yun, Tang Xin, and Dr. Pomsmike’s deaths had all been orchestrated by Copernicus.

Which was why Ji Lin Shui needed no evidence or proof to kill these people—he simply killed on sight.

But when it came to Lin Xian, Copernicus had made it so complicated, demanding proof of his historical disruptions. Clearly, Copernicus hadn’t ordered Lin Xian’s death—Ji Lin Shui had acted on his own, trying to show off.

All the hatred had piled up. If Lin Xian got the chance, he’d deal with Copernicus just as decisively as he had with Kevin Walker and Turing—putting a bullet through his head without hesitation.

Facing a monster like Copernicus, there was no need for mercy—he’d kill him without a second thought.

However, Lin Xian was waiting on two things:

First, he needed to be sure that Ji Lin’s parents were indeed killed by Copernicus.

Second, he needed to find out who Copernicus truly was and where he lived. Until then, Lin Xian had to stay low, avoiding too much attention.

Now, all eyes turned to Lin Xian. The elder in the Einstein mask, along with the other geniuses, watched him expectantly.

“No. 9, Rhine,” Einstein said, his voice raspy yet powerful. “Have you decided on your question?”

Under their gazes, Lin Xian nodded slowly.

He had indeed decided.

This was the result of much consideration. As his first question since joining the Genius Club, he had decided not to reveal personal details or secrets.

Instead, he would use it as a test—to see if Einstein really could predict the future or if it was all just an elaborate act.

It might be hard for others to verify such a thing, but for Lin Xian, it was simple.

After all, he had truly seen the future—600 years ahead.

All he needed was to ask something he already knew, something to test Einstein’s credibility.

Besides, the whole reason he was in such a hurry to join the Club this month was to find a way to avoid his impending beheading on July 7th.

At first, he wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

Now, the opportunity had presented itself perfectly.

He only needed one question—a question that could confirm if Einstein was honest and also help him better understand what would happen on July 7th. It was the perfect two-for-one solution.

So, wearing his comical Rhine Cat mask, Lin Xian raised his head and looked directly at Einstein.

“I want to confirm something,” he said. “Are you able to accurately answer any question, down to the exact detail, even the precise minute or second, as long as it’s not restricted by the three principles?”

Einstein nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. If your question is specific enough, my answer will be equally specific.”

“Good,” Lin Xian said, nodding back. Everything was in place; now, he could finally ask.

“My question is this…”

The room watched as the face behind the Rhine Cat mask spoke each word clearly.

“What is my exact death date, time, and method? Where will it happen?”

Einstein let out a scratchy laugh, shaking his head.

“Rhine, technically speaking, this isn’t just one question but three. However, I’ll consider them as part of one larger question—’How will I die?’ You simply specified the details.”

“Very well,” Einstein continued. “I am pleased to see you understanding the rules so well. I hope every member integrates into the Club this smoothly.”

“Now, let me answer your question.”

Einstein looked upwards, seemingly deep in thought, then said:

“No. 9, Rhine. Your death will come by decapitation. Your head will be severed instantly.”

He paused, his voice turning grave.

“You will die in your home—in your living room, by the front door.”

“And the exact time of your death…” He hesitated, then spoke with finality:

“In precisely… 17 minutes and 21 seconds.”