I’m In Charge of SCP

The next day, Zhang Jue and Stevenson went together to Smith's previous residence, the place where he had disappeared from the Foundation's view. This time they forged their identities as police officers and searched the entire room.

As Stevenson said, the room was empty. There was nothing. This is just temporary housing. Smith's real residence is not here. At this point, Stevenson then had to admire Zhang Jue's foresight. If he hadn't risked his life last night to obtain Smith's real residence from Dupont, their investigation would have been at an impasse. Stevenson drove the car with Zhang Jue toward the address the Dupont boss had given them yesterday.

He looked at Zhang Jue, who was resting his eyes through the rearview mirror and asked, "Advisor Zhang, there's one thing I don't understand. Why don't we just go there? Aren't you afraid that Smith will run away?"

Zhang Jue opened his eyes, "Didn't Dupont says that Smith had disappeared long ago? Which he shouldn't have lied. Even if we went there immediately last night, you couldn't get to his trail fast enough. Whether he lied or not, it's a certainty that we won't be able to see Smith when we arrive there."

Stevenson said again, "Then how do you know the address he gave you is true?"

"Simply enough, because he's afraid of me." Zhang Jue said, "His workplace is there. He can't get away. I would kill his whole family if he dared to lie to me. He knows this very well, and the people in the walls behind him know that I have this ability. That's enough for him not to lie."

"Uh..."

Stevenson still hadn't adapted to Zhang Jue's style. He hadn't spent much time with Zhang Jue, but Zhang Jue had always given him a sense of profundity. He could never predict what Jue Zhang's next move would be.

"But Advisor Zhang, would you do it?" Stevenson tried to ask.

Zhang Jue smiled, "Try to guess."

...

Stevenson followed the address on the paper and drove into an alley, finally stopping in front of a bar. The bar was so worn that the sign was missing a piece, and while the sun was shining outside, it was dim inside, and no one was there at all.

Stevenson got out of the car and ensured the address was correct before calling out to the inside, "Henry? Are you there?"

"Who is it? Can't you guys let me have my sleep? So annoying!"

Inside the bar of the bar, a crippled old man stood up. He reeked of alcohol, probably because of hungover. Obviously, the arrival of Zhang Jue and Stevenson had disturbed his sleep.

Stevenson hurriedly accompanied him with a smile, "Excuse me, old man. Are you Henry?"

The old man yawned, "So what if I am?"

"We're looking for a man named Will Smith. Do you know where he lives?"

Hearing him mention the name, the old man's eyes suddenly became serious, "Who are you?"

"We're his friends." At that moment, Zhang Jue also stepped down from the car and handed out a cigarette, "Dupont sent us."

"Hmph, so it's that brat." Hearing Dupont's name, the old man's expression eased slightly, but he was still a bit impatient, "He never brought me any good news!"

Under the lead of old Henry, the two came to the small town behind the bar. There are all kinds of people here, and it seems to be a place outside the law. The punks squatting in the streets looked at Zhang Jue and Stevenson as if they saw two lambs ready to be slaughtered.

Under Old Henry's escort, they crossed the "danger zone" and came to a line of private houses.

Old Henry pointed to an inconspicuous house in the distance, "Smith lived there before, but I heard that he hasn't come back for a long time. You guys can go there and try your luck."

...

The door to Smith's room was locked, and the two glanced inside through the window. No one was there. The lock was one of those old-fashioned old locks. Stevenson just wanted to go up to the door, but Zhang Jue pulled out two wires from nowhere and poked the lock open in three strokes. Even more professional than Stevenson, the agent.

Looking at Stevenson's expression, Zhang Jue waved his hand, "Don't worry, in any situation, the police usually ask me to solve their cases."

The two walked into Smith's room, and a strong smell of blood came from it. The floor was covered with bandages that had been changed and covered with blood. It was a good thing they didn't see Smith's body.

Zhang Jue picked up a bandage, checked its blood, and found that it had long since dried. Dupont hadn't lied to him. Smith hadn't been back here for at least a week. The house was simply furnished, with a bed, a closet, and a table.

Zhang Jue looked around and found that his closet and bed showed signs of having been turned over, and even the pillows had been cut open, with the stuffing inside scattered all over the place. It seemed they weren't the first wave of people to come looking for Smith. These people came to Smith's reason, which also seems to be for something. But by the looks of it, they didn't find it.

Zhang Jue and Stevenson both looked at each other and felt a little strange. However, there was nothing too much of a clue in this house.

The two men were ready to leave. The moment Stevenson pushed open the door, Zhang Jue suddenly pulled him back into the house with one hand.

Immediately afterward, the door of the room that was already old was instantly blown out with a big hole.

Even though Stevenson was a veteran agent of the Foundation, he was still frightened by this blow. If Zhang Jue had been late one second later, his body would have been blown to smithereens, just like the door.

Zhang Jue cursed, "Such a large-caliber sniper rifle can be used to destroy tanks. Who the hell did Smith offend?"

Zhang Jue dragged Stevenson all the way to the house and pulled the curtains all the way up again.

"Wait here. I'll be right back." Zhang Jue said to Stevenson.

With that, he was about to slip out through the large hole that had been blasted out of the doorway, trying to find the sniper, but was unexpectedly pulled back by Stevenson.

"Advisor Zhang, wait a minute." Zhang Jue stopped in his tracks and looked at Stevenson. "Advisor Zhang, I'm a Foundation agent. You look like I'm useless when you're like this. I was careless with that shot just now. But now that I know the location of the enemy, please let me handle this!"

Stevenson's self-esteem is very strong. Since last night, Zhang Jue has been an independent problem solver. He topped a Foundation agent, making him be ignored most of the time. He was there only to be shocked again and again. He can only look down on himself.

Zhang Jue suddenly smiled and patted Stevenson's shoulder when he heard him say that—changing the atmosphere around him.

"You don't have to think about it too much because that's how it will feel working with geniuses. You just have to get used to it. I'm not going to hide it from you. I have a friend who is a doctor from the Foundation, and she has the same problem as you. She always feels as if she can't do anything every time she's at my side. She trained herself really hard and even went to the extent of strengthening herself by using torture and interrogation. Testing herself if she can fight her enemies without me."

Stevenson listened intently and asked, "And then?"

"Afterwards? Then she realized that it was a waste of time and no use at all!"

Zhang Jue's initially benevolent face instantly changed into a snarky expression, and he slapped Stevenson on the front.

"You people are so fucking pretentious! If you guys can make it work, why would I need to run up my ass to fight them? Just lie down and win? That's not enough. Do you want to share the bonus with me? Let me tell you this, no way in hell!"