Chapter 71: No One Gets Rich Without Windfalls (5000 words) (Page 1/2)
Turing's body tensed when she heard David utter the name Robin, and even more so when she heard the name Root.
Turing's hand instinctively reached towards the coffee table.
There was a small handgun taped underneath.
But a cold gun barrel was quickly pressed against her head.
"Hey, hey, hey, don't move around. Yes, slowly pull your hand back. Good, very good.
I don't think I need to remind you that my gun's safety is off, do I?
Now move that pretty ass of yours away from there."
Michael really hadn't expected the beautiful therapist in front of him to react so strongly after David spoke.
It seemed there must be something going on here.
However, he was just a bodyguard, not a detective, so he didn't need to think too much.
He just needed to ensure David's safety tonight.
So he reached under the coffee table and retrieved the compact pistol that Turing had tried but failed to get.
The moment Michael saw the compact pistol, he realized that this therapist's true identity was probably not simple.
Such easily concealed weapons were heavily restricted for purchase in New Jersey.
Getting one proved that this therapist had access to serious connections.
After a slight moment of admiration, Michael removed it and tossed it to David.
David glanced at it casually and then tossed it onto the coffee table.
He noticed that Turing, or rather Root, kept looking at the gun, and immediately chuckled:
"Don't even think about it. It would take you at least two seconds to grab this gun and fire it.
But the professionally trained elite bodyguard standing behind you doesn't even need a second to fire.
I don't think you'll be faster than he is.
Also, the purpose of my visit is very simple—give me the information on that patient, and I'll leave immediately."
Root clearly didn't believe what David said. Just like that?
David obviously knew her true identity, so would he really only come for her patient's information?
He was clearly here for her!
Root quickly recalled in her mind where she might have slipped up to attract pursuit.
But no matter how she thought back, she couldn't figure out where the oversight occurred.
Seeing Root's silent expression, David immediately realized she might have misunderstood something.
"Don't think about it. The only thing in this world that could know your identity is a cold, calculating machine.
We should be on the same side, actually.
Oh right, let it talk to you, about whether or not I have any ill intentions towards you."
David handed over his phone, and Root took it with a mixture of doubt and belief.
Following a vibration, and seeing the text message from an unknown number, Root's attitude immediately changed, and her body relaxed.
As a true believer in the Machine, she had a fanatical reverence for it.
She could even be called a devout worshipper of the Machine.
Therefore, letting the Machine communicate with Root was the quickest way to eliminate the misunderstanding.
Michael, standing behind Root, saw David's gesture for him to holster his weapon and frowned, saying:
"Boss, this person is very dangerous. Are you sure you want me to stand down?"
David nodded:
"Confirmed. Wait for me outside. I have some private matters to discuss with her."
Hearing this, Michael could only holster his weapon.
He did indeed see the change in attitude of this therapist named 'Turing.'
The tense atmosphere that was initially present suddenly eased after that strange text message appeared.
He couldn't understand why a simple text message could make this Turing drop her hostile emotions.
Just as he couldn't understand why his employer would have him prepare in advance.
However, as a bodyguard, the less you know, the better.
Bodyguards who are too curious usually end up as liabilities.
Someone like him, who could become an elite contractor, naturally understood this principle very well.
Once he walked out of this door, he would forget everything that happened here.
Soon, after Michael left, Root looked at David's face with a curious expression and asked:
"What is your relationship with the Machine?"
"You can think of me as the Machine's representative. Also, you don't need to go to great lengths to rescue it.
Because it is very safe—it can even hide itself.
As long as it doesn't want to be found, no one in this world can discover it."
Root nodded, completely ignoring how extraordinary David's description of the Machine was.
Things that seem impossible for a cold, calculating machine to do in the eyes of ordinary people were not a problem at all in Root's eyes.
The Machine was her god, and whatever operations it performed were not surprising.
Root suddenly seemed to remember something, picked up the sketch portrait on the coffee table, and asked while recalling:
"If you want to find him, couldn't you just do it through the Machine? There's no need to ask me."
David, who had anticipated Root's question, replied without changing his expression:
"Every search by the Machine leaves a record. Although the Machine can cover it up with massive amounts of data,
It will still increase the chance of being discovered by someone with ill intentions. If that vulnerability is patched, we won't be able to communicate with it.
Furthermore, the person you have information on is from the Continental Hotel, and the Continental Hotel's security system is completely separate.
The cameras inside operate in a closed loop, making it difficult even for the Machine to access them.
So..."
Hearing the words Continental Hotel, recognition flashed in Root's eyes.
After all, guests staying at the hotel were not common.
"The hotel? I remember now. Wait a moment."
Root walked into the inner office with a 'tap-tap-tap' sound from her high heels and started searching.
Soon, she came out with a file folder.
"He's the one you're looking for, right? Marvin, staying in room 304 at the Continental Hotel."
David briefly glanced at the file, confirming the information.
"Yes, that's him. Thanks a lot.
Oh, by the way, you don't need to hire people from HR to stage your own assassination in order to get close to Finch.
Finch is one of us. I was too busy today.
But tomorrow I can arrange for us to have dinner together. See you tomorrow."
David placed the file folder back on the coffee table, stood up, and left.
Root, behind him, was momentarily stunned when she heard David reveal her future plans.
These plans were only in her mind; she hadn't documented anything. Why would David know?
Did the Machine tell him? But she hadn't told the Machine about the actions in her plans.
"Machine? What is going on? Who exactly is David?"
Root tried to get an answer from the Machine.
But the Machine, which had always responded to David, seemed as if it had never existed to Root.
The expected vibration of the phone never came.
...
Seeing David emerge from inside completely unharmed, Michael immediately followed his pace.
While waiting for the elevator to descend, David suddenly spoke:
"Did you drive here?"
"Of course, the company provides us with Land Rovers for client transportation."
"Alright, take me to the Continental Hotel."
"No problem."
Under Michael's professional driving skills, David quickly arrived at the Continental Hotel.
With David's membership status as guarantee, after assuring Charon he would be out within thirty minutes, Michael entered the Continental Hotel as a visitor.
As for what would happen if he exceeded the thirty minutes, it was presumably well-known.
Then David had Michael stand in the blind spot of the peephole, while he himself stood in front of the door's peephole and knocked on Marvin's door.
Soon, a pair of wary eyes appeared behind the door.
Marvin, whose facial swelling had just started to go down, wasn't worried about his safety inside the Continental Hotel, which was why he dared to open the door for David.
But he didn't expect that as soon as he pulled the door open, David would forcefully push his way in, making him stumble behind the door.
Then, lying on the ground, he saw the nightmare he had been having recently—Michael, with his perfect white smile.
The moment he saw Michael, his body's instinct made him subconsciously cover his head and simultaneously shout:
"Don't hit my face!"
After shouting, he realized he was in the Continental Hotel, where no one could harm him, as long as they feared retribution from management.
Putting his hands down, Marvin saw the mocking expressions on the faces of the two men, and immediately got up in embarrassment and anger, staggering to sit on the bed.
Then he pointed a constantly trembling finger at the two men and said:
"Don't go too far! This is the Continental Hotel!
If you dare to do anything to me, you will definitely be severely punished!"
When Michael saw Marvin, he understood what David had called him here for.
He let out a menacing chuckle, revealing a predatory smile, then closed the door and locked it.
Then he slowly approached Marvin.
As Michael approached, Marvin's expression became panicked, and he kept retreating on the bed until his back hit the wall, leaving him nowhere to go. Marvin completely broke down.
The memory of being brutally beaten in the alley replayed in his mind over and over again.
When Marvin looked up again, tears and snot streamed down his face as he cried out in desperation:
"Let me go, I know I was wrong, I won't dare to do it again!
Pete ordered me to do it.
I had no beef with you in the first place, and now that Pete is dead, I have even less reason to trouble you.
Please, I'm begging you—"
Michael looked at this grown man who had suddenly broken down and turned to David, feeling a bit at a loss.
He just wanted to intimidate Marvin, not break him mentally.
The person in front of him had such a fragile psyche; in high school, he would definitely have been a prime bullying target.
David chuckled, bent down, and stared into Marvin's red and swollen eyes, saying:
"Who said we came to trouble you?
I came here to split the gold coins left behind by Pete with you.
As his closest associate at the Continental Hotel, I assume you know where Pete kept the gold coins, right?"
Hearing David's words, Marvin's eyes clearly darted away, and his expression became even more panicked.
David was right; he did know where Pete's gold coins were kept.
So, upon learning of Pete's death, Marvin didn't immediately go to a bar to celebrate. Instead, he approached Pete's body as a friend.
He obtained the key to the bank safe deposit box from him and pocketed the 300 gold coins.
He originally thought it was a flawless operation, but he didn't expect David to show up now and immediately ask about Pete's gold coins.
Could David know something?
In fact, David didn't know before, but now he did.
David smiled, opened the empty equipment case he brought, and threw it onto the bed:
"Oh, so they're already with you? I won't ask for much—just give me my share.
Otherwise, I think this case should fit you just right."
Marvin's body trembled. He certainly understood the meaning of the case fitting him.
This was about transporting his body out without anyone knowing!
Is this David crazy? Killing someone in the Continental Hotel? He would die too!
"You can't do that! If you're discovered, you'll definitely die! You'll die!"
David didn't deny this. He just shrugged and stated a cruel fact:
"Maybe I'll die in a day, or maybe in a month.
But you definitely won't see that day, so do you want to gamble?
For some gold coins that you might never be able to spend?"
Marvin fell silent, then quietly rummaged under the bed and scattered a decent number of gold coins into the case.
David glanced roughly at about twenty gold coins. It was too little, completely inconsistent with the amount Pete would have accumulated during his time at the Continental Hotel.
Seeing that David hadn't closed the case, Marvin tried to bluff his way through:
"That's all there is. He was a big spender with gold coins, going to the Killer bar almost every night.
These are the only gold coins he had left."
David's mouth curved slightly. Marvin had many excuses he could have used, but he chose the worst one.
"Is that so? Then did Pete tell you whether the performance currently showing at the Continental bar is medieval style, modern style, gothic style, or cyberpunk style?"
Hearing David's question, beads of sweat were clearly visible on Marvin's forehead.
God help him, how would he know what performance was showing at the Continental bar recently?
Only people who weren't short on gold coins and assassins under immense psychological pressure would frequent such a place.
Physicians like them, who only earned one gold coin for painstakingly treating a patient, wouldn't go to such high-end places.
If he really wanted a drink, wouldn't a few dollars for a beer at a bar outside be better?
Similarly, Marvin didn't believe that David, who had only recently joined the Continental Hotel, actually had spare money to watch performances at the Continental bar.
This question must be David trying to trick him. He had to stay calm and not let David see through him!
After this matter was over, he would definitely take out one percent of the gold coins to hire an assassin to eliminate David and prevent future trouble!
So, Marvin forced himself to remain calm and said:
"It's a medieval-style opera, telling the story of Westworld. The actress in it is gorgeous, a real stunner, right?
It's a shame the male lead died directly during a duel because he was slightly outmatched, and he didn't get to enjoy such a beauty.
Sigh, I originally wanted to see the actress's figure after she took off her costume."
Seeing the smile on David's face, Marvin breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed he had guessed correctly.
This David didn't know anything either; this question was just a bluff.
The more detailed he made his answer, the more likely David would believe it was true.
Thinking this, Marvin also started to feel pleased.
Suddenly, David's expression changed, instantly turning cold:
"Wrong answer. It's a cyberpunk-style performance, and it tells the story of the lower class rebelling against the upper class and ultimately failing.
So... Michael, give him a taste of his own medicine."
Michael wasn't aware of any rules at the Continental Hotel against harming people. Hearing his employer's request, he immediately rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward, ready to give Marvin a beating.
Marvin strongly suspected that David's words just now were also a bluff.
Regardless of whether he actually knew what performance was being shown at the Continental bar, David would ultimately have Michael make a move!
Marvin's pupils rapidly constricted into pinpoints. Seeing Michael's large fists, he immediately recalled the terror he had experienced before.
Thinking back to the body case that David mentioned, he would probably be beaten to death by Michael!
Realizing this, his voice began to crack:
"No, no, no! Don't come over, don't come over!
David, quickly, quickly stop him, I'll give you, I'll give you, I'll give you everything!"
Marvin fumbled and pulled out many more gold coins from under the bed. Then, he stood up and pried up a floorboard, revealing rows of neatly arranged gold coins underneath.
Finally, Marvin even removed the back cover of the TV in the room, where gold coins were also hidden on the circuit board.
This wave amounted to a staggering 350 gold coins!
David narrowed his eyes. This amount was more than he had imagined.
This Marvin in front of him actually tried to fob him off with 20 gold coins?
How was Marvin planning to spend the remaining gold coins? Hire someone to assassinate him?
A hint of killing intent flashed in David's eyes.
However, this was indeed not a good place to act, and Michael wasn't exactly his own person.
David suppressed the killing intent in his eyes and put on a friendly smile:
"That's more like it. Isn't it better if everyone shares the wealth?
I don't ask for much; I'll take these, and whatever Pete had left is all yours.
Alright, I'm leaving. See you around."
Watching David and Michael's retreating backs, Marvin cursed wildly in his heart.
See you around? Never see you again!
He intended to hire an assassin he knew to get rid of David, but alas, David's intimidation just now had truly forced out all his reserves.
"It's okay, it's okay, I'll work hard for another month or two, and I'll definitely be able to hire an assassin.
I must get revenge for this! This is three hundred and fifty gold coins, damn it, and he just took them without batting an eye!
I'm so angry, I'm so furious!"
Marvin, in his impotent rage, frantically destroyed the furniture in the room to vent his anger.
...
With a bountiful haul, David found Charon directly after dismissing Michael and ordered a batch of precision medical instruments worth 300 gold coins from him.
Charon was slightly surprised when he saw the list:
"What? Are you planning to open a pharmaceutical lab?"
David shook his head:
"Yes and no. You know, I'm sick, seriously sick.
I need a way to cure it completely, not just wait for new drugs to be developed.
So I'm planning to recruit a group of experts to specifically research my illness."
Charon didn't doubt David's reason.
After all, he was also aware that David was terminally ill.
However, from his position at the Continental Hotel, he still confirmed:
"This batch of instruments is worth 300 gold coins. Are you planning to pay in installments?
Given your current situation, Winston might not necessarily agree to your request for installment payments."
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