Chapter 2: NZT-48
After a while, the two finally finished talking, and the first to emerge from the bar was Jake's target—Vernon.
Vernon, with his neatly combed hair, looked upright and respectable, but all of this couldn't hide the fact that he was a drug dealer.
A drug dealer?
After mulling over this reality, Jake suddenly realized that getting what he needed in this world might not be so difficult after all. Sure, he'd just entered a movie world without any local identity or connections, but maybe none of that mattered.
Since Vernon was dealing drugs, why not just buy some?
With that thought, Jake adjusted his clothes to look more disheveled, messed up his hair to appear desperate, and quickly walked toward Vernon.
"Hey, man," Jake greeted, keeping it casual.
Vernon was startled but smiled when he saw Jake and replied with a friendly "Hey."
Though Jake looked completely out of place and anxious, Vernon liked this type—the desperate ones were always his best customers.
Vernon no longer sold the hard stuff that caused intense highs, but he believed the little clear pills like NZT-48 in his pocket would more than satisfy this guy's needs.
Sure enough, the young man standing before Vernon began gesturing frantically, clearly agitated and trying to communicate something urgent.
Vernon had seen that look countless times before. He raised his hands slightly and pressed them down in a calming gesture, telling Jake to relax, that everything was cool.
Then Vernon pulled out a small, transparent pill—about half the size of a fingernail—from his pocket and showed it to him.
Even with such a tiny thing, Vernon could already see the spark of desperate interest in the guy's eyes.
Jake, playing the part of an addict perfectly, reached out to grab the pills, but Vernon dodged smoothly, preventing him from succeeding. At the same time, he wagged his left index finger, signaling that wasn't how this worked.
Then Vernon made the universal gesture, slowly rubbing his left thumb and forefinger together—the international sign for money. No cash, no pills.
Jake looked embarrassed, fumbling in his pockets before pulling out some crumpled twenty-dollar bills—emergency cash he'd had in his real-world wallet.
After taking the money, Vernon pressed the pill into Jake's palm and immediately turned to leave.
It wasn't that Vernon wasn't nervous—he was—but he didn't want to linger with some desperate user in broad daylight. If cops showed up, they'd both end up in handcuffs.
Vernon turned and walked away briskly, while Jake, having just pulled off his Academy Award-worthy performance, breathed a sigh of relief as he clutched the pill. This little transparent tablet was exactly what he needed—the key to unlocking superhuman intelligence.
His decision to approach Vernon directly was calculated. Drug dealers hate their customers but also need them desperately, especially for under-the-table transactions like this.
Looking at the small pill in his hand, then at Vernon's retreating figure, Jake steeled himself and popped the pill in his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed it dry.
One second. Two seconds...
Vernon's figure was getting further away, about to disappear into the crowd.
Suddenly, Jake felt a jolt surge through his brain—a strange, electric sensation.
His vision seemed to sharpen, colors becoming more vivid, details crystallizing with perfect clarity.
Sounds around him took on new dimensions. Conversations that had been background noise suddenly made sense—fragments of business deals, relationship arguments, someone ordering a hot dog. Information flooded in, and his brain automatically organized it, categorized it, connected dots he'd never even known existed.
This was the terrifying power of NZT-48.
The drug could allow someone to learn a new language in days, recall every word they'd ever read, process information like a supercomputer.
And Jake could feel it working. His mind was racing, making connections, seeing patterns everywhere.
Just as Vernon's figure was about to vanish into the midday Manhattan crowd, Jake jogged after him, his enhanced mind already mapping out the next steps.
Vernon was annoyed, pocketing the crumpled bills. Easy money, sure, but dealing with strung-out users always left him on edge.
In a bad mood, Vernon decided to take the subway home, which created a problem for Jake, who was tailing him.
Vernon swiped his MetroCard and headed through the turnstile into the subway station.
Jake didn't have a MetroCard—hell, he didn't have any valid ID in this world. He had to find another way through.
His enhanced mind immediately kicked into overdrive, scanning the crowd. The subway entrance was packed with commuters—easily a hundred people flowing in both directions. Jake's brain began analyzing them at lightning speed.
He categorized people by age, appearance, body language, and behavior, filtering for someone who might help a stranger.
Men were eliminated first—statistically less likely to help in this scenario. Then he filtered out anyone too young, too old, wearing business attire that suggested they were in a rush, or displaying closed-off body language.
Jake managed to process and categorize the entire crowd in just seconds!
Finally, he locked onto his target: a young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a university hoodie—NYU, by the logo—and carrying an overstuffed backpack. She had that slightly overwhelmed look of a college student trying to navigate the city.
He approached her with a friendly, slightly embarrassed smile. "Hey, excuse me—this is really awkward, but I just got mugged and they took my wallet. Could you swipe me through? I can Venmo you back once I get home, I swear."
The lie came smoothly, enhanced by NZT's ability to read her micro-expressions and adjust his approach in real-time.
"Oh my God, that's terrible!" she said, immediately sympathetic. "Yeah, of course. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. They just grabbed it and ran. Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver."
She swiped him through without hesitation.
From the moment Jake spotted his mark to boarding the subway, only about forty-five seconds had passed.
But forty-five seconds felt like an eternity when he needed to keep Vernon in sight.
Still, he couldn't just ditch his Good Samaritan. "I'm Jake, by the way. Thanks again—you really saved me."
"I'm Emily," she replied, adjusting her backpack. "I'm a sophomore at NYU. Film studies."
Jake engaged her in light conversation as they moved through the subway car, making it look natural. No one would guess they'd met less than a minute ago.
After working his way through the crowded car, Jake finally spotted his target: Vernon, sitting in a corner seat near the doors, checking his phone and looking bored.
Jake said goodbye to Emily at the next stop, claiming his apartment was nearby, and stayed on Vernon's trail.
He needed to follow Vernon home before the effects of NZT wore off—and more importantly, before Vernon realized he'd just sold his entire stash's location to someone with a perfect memory and enhanced intelligence.
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