Chapter 145: The Man with the Water Gun

A Chevrolet slowed to a stop on a street corner still some distance from Wall Street.

Looking at the unfamiliar number on his phone screen, Roan pressed the answer button.

"It’s me, Roan."

Hearing the familiar voice on the other end, Roan’s eyebrows shot up. It was Verinis.

"Good afternoon, ma'am."

Though he was slightly puzzled as to why Verinis was calling from a different number, Roan didn't dwell on it. He asked with a smile, "Is there a new assignment?"

Verinis didn't answer his question; instead, she asked, "Where are you right now?"

"Uh..."

Roan blinked, choosing not to hide his itinerary from her, and explained that he was on his way to Wall Street.

Upon learning that Roan had business to attend to on Wall Street, Verinis was silent for a moment before saying in a calm voice, "Go handle your affairs first. Once you're finished, come see me. I have something to discuss with you."

"Understood, ma'am."

Though curious about why she wanted to see him at this time, Roan nodded and agreed.

"Bye."

Without further ado, Verinis hung up the phone. Roan started the Chevrolet again and headed toward Wall Street.

Wall Street lies in the southern part of Manhattan, New York, stretching from Broadway to the East River. The streets here are narrow, so Roan parked his Chevrolet on the outskirts and walked into the New York Stock Exchange.

Roan Greenwood had worked on Wall Street in the past; he was well-versed in opening accounts, purchasing stocks, and managing trades. To his surprise, Apple’s stock price at this moment hadn't yet reached fifty dollars; it was trading at forty-seven.

Roan didn't hesitate. He immediately converted the 1.2 million dollars he had on hand into Apple stock. Once the trade was complete, he looked at the information on the computer screen, and a smile gradually deepened on his face.

"Now, all I have to do is wait for Jobs to release the new product."

He thought of the news reports from the future about people selling their kidneys to afford the latest phone...

***

Buying stocks was something that could have easily been done from the computers at the Special Investigations Unit. The main reason Roan insisted on coming to Wall Street was to see the sights for himself—like the Charging Bull. Seeing it with his own eyes was a completely different experience from simply accessing the memories of his predecessor.

However, after entering Wall Street, aside from the tourists, many of the people he saw left him with a deeply uncomfortable feeling.

In his 1980 book, the late sociologist and playwright Philip Slater coined the term "wealth addiction," noting that eighty percent of those working on Wall Street suffered from this condition. They were energetic, competitive, greedy, and ambitious, possessing vast wealth and watching funds flow through their hands every single day. Yet, they were also under immense pressure, often abusing drugs and alcohol, with women treated as mere tools for stress relief.

The scene in *The Wolf of Wall Street*—the film directed by the man who played with a water gun—where people openly snorted powder in the office lobby and engaged in wild parties after making money, was all based on real life.

***

Hospital.

Holding fruit and flowers, Roan gently knocked on the door of Verinis’s hospital room.

"Enter."

Stepping inside, Roan immediately saw Verinis lying in bed, listlessly watching the news. Due to her injuries and the confinement of the hospital bed, her complexion was pale, and she looked much thinner than usual.

More than that, the most striking difference was her aura. Usually, Verinis wore cold makeup and carried a sharp, formidable air—one look told you she was a woman not to be trifled with. But now, buried under the covers with a few stray hairs clinging to her forehead, her pale face and the slight frown caused by pain gave her an unexpected, fragile beauty.

Shaking his head to clear his wandering thoughts, Roan walked to the bedside with a smile. "Good evening, ma'am."

"Sit."

Seeing the fruit and flowers Roan brought, Verinis felt a touch of happiness mixed with helplessness. Her primary wound was in her abdomen, and she couldn't eat; she could barely manage a little water.

Roan placed the flowers in a vase, filled her water glass, and tilted his head to chat with her. Their conversation was brief, mostly revolving around their cases. There was no helping it; Roan only knew that Verinis was alone, had no boyfriend, and led a life strictly between her home and the office. He didn't know if she had any friends or family, and he had never met them. Aside from work, he truly didn't know what else to talk to her about.

***

Verinis, however, seemed quite happy with this. She preferred cases and work over gossip or trivialities. During their conversation, Roan did most of the talking, while Verinis listened, occasionally asking a brief question.

When Roan recounted the more exciting parts of their cases, a faint smile appeared on Verinis’s pale face, and the way she looked at him held a certain undefinable meaning.

After a while, noticing that Verinis’s energy was flagging, Roan changed the subject. "Ma'am, you mentioned earlier that you had something to discuss with me. May I ask what it is?"

Verinis’s smile faltered. She gestured toward the cabinet beside her and said calmly, "There is a business card there. It was given to you by an official from Washington. Keep it safe. If you ever run into a problem you cannot solve, call that number. They may be able to provide some assistance."

Seeing the phone number on the card, along with the solitary surname 'Clement', Roan’s eyebrows arched. He remembered that Verinis’s surname was also Clement.

After the bombing, Mr. Clement in Washington had received the news immediately. Upon learning that Verinis was out of danger, he felt a sense of relief and ordered his secretary to bring the full details of the case to his desk. However, before he could review it, the President summoned him to the White House for urgent matters.

Helpless, Clement had to set the file aside. By the time he returned to his office, the case was already closed. Reading the report on how the case was solved and seeing the name Roan Greenwood, Clement sat in his chair, stunned, his expression unreadable.

He opened his mouth several times, unsure of what to say, until he finally uttered a single word:

"F***!"

After a long silence, Clement instructed his secretary to visit Verinis's room to check on her and deliver his card to Roan. The unfamiliar number Roan had received earlier was the one Verinis had called using the secretary's phone.

After tucking the card away and chatting a bit longer, Roan took his leave.

The next day, after informing August, Roan didn't head straight to the office. Instead, he went to the banks that had been robbed. After all, he wasn't taking his security consultant's fee for nothing.