What Chen Mo needed hadn't appeared yet. If he interfered too early, it was likely to destroy the original plot and create unknown variables.
Therefore, Chen Mo only sneaked into Howlett Manor at night and installed a large number of hidden micro-cameras and listening devices in the entire manor for Jarvis to monitor at all times.
He was waiting for a moment. Only when something happened and what he was waiting for appeared could he begin to intervene and carry out his plan.
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait too long.
In the afternoon, one month later, Chen Mo was leisurely drinking coffee in the manor when Jarvis's voice suddenly sounded in his ear.
"Sir, James Howlett is sick. Victor Logan is accompanying him in the room."
Hearing this seemingly meaningless news, Chen Mo's eyes suddenly lit up.
This was the scene before the crucial plot in the movie.
Chen Mo waved the servants away and got up to return to the study room. After closing the door and windows, he sat in the chair behind the desk.
"Give me the live feed."
"Okay, sir."
As soon as Jarvis's voice fell, a light was projected from Chen Mo's watch. It unfolded in the air in front of Chen Mo and formed a holographic projection.
It showed a room that was decorated in a vintage and gorgeous style. There was a large European-style solid wood bed placed against the wall. A little boy of about ten years old, wearing beautiful red wool pajamas, was curled up on the bed and coughing from time to time.
In front of the fireplace opposite him, a slightly older youth dressed in somewhat old-fashioned clothes was sitting on a stool in boredom, absent-mindedly trimming his fingernails with a small knife. From time to time, he would accompany the sick little boy on the bed and say a few words.
Chen Mo looked at the time. It was four o 'clock in the afternoon. In Chen Mo's memory, the plot happened at night. Although the sun set early in the winter, there was still a long time before it set.
…
Howlett Manor, in the innermost room of the second-floor corridor. In the fireplace, high-quality firewood cut from the Rocky Mountains was burning fiercely, releasing rolling heat. In this cold season, the room was as warm as a spring day.
With the burning of the fire, time passed little by little. The sky outside gradually darkened. Even with the fireplace's light, the room still became dark.
"Victor, it's so dark!"
The little boy on the bed said in a weak voice.
"You're already thirteen years old, why are you still afraid of the dark!"
The teenager sitting in front of the fireplace rolled his eyes, but he still put down the knife in his hand. He got up and walked to the bedside table next to the boy. He opened the drawer and took out a box of matches. After he struck the matches, he lit an oil lamp installed on the bedside wall... The dim light shone on the boy's face, making him visibly relieved.
Just as the youth was about to blow out the match, he caught sight of another oil lamp on the bedside table from the corner of his eye. Using the remaining flame from the match, he lit up the lantern that he used to carry when he went out at night.
The room became brighter under the illumination of the two oil lamps.
The little boy lying on the bed, James Howlett, couldn't help but show a happy smile on his face.
Victor shook his wrist and extinguished the match in his hand. He turned around and walked back to the fireplace again. He sat back in the chair, took out the knife from before, and continued to trim his nails.
His nails seemed to be a little deformed. They were not as wide and thin as ordinary people's, revealing the pinkish-white flesh underneath. Instead, they were narrow and thick, almost cylindrical. The front end was sharp like an animal's claw, and the whole body showed a yellow luster.
At this time, he was using the sharp knife to constantly flatten the surface of the nail bit by bit. He then cut off the sharp part that extended out and smoothed it, trying to make it look more like a normal person's nail.
But because the structure of the nail itself was different from that of ordinary people, even after careful trimming, it was still obviously different from other people.
However, he still persevered and carefully trimmed the grass.
While trimming, he didn't forget to talk to James Howlett on the bed so that he wouldn't be bored.
James Howlett coughed a few times, Victor couldn't help but raise his head to look at him and said.
"Why are you always sick?"
James Howlett coughed a few more times and retorted without showing any weakness.
"You were always sick when you were my age."
At this time, the door of the room was suddenly opened. A gentle middle-aged man in a shirt and a vest pushed the door open and walked in.
Viktor hurriedly stood up from the chair and hid the nail clipper behind his back.
"Good evening, sir!"
The middle-aged man looked at him in surprise and nodded gently in response.
"Good evening, Victor, I didn't expect you to still be here."
The middle-aged man finished and continued to walk to the bed.
"I'm just accompanying James, sir, if you don't mind."
Victor, who was still standing by the fireplace, explained.
"You're good."
The middle-aged man sat down by the bed and turned his head to praise Viktor with a smile. Then, he turned his head to look at the little boy on the bed and placed his hand on his forehead as he asked in a gentle voice, "Are you alright?"
"Son, are you feeling better?"
"It's still cold, dad."
James Howlett said weakly.
"It's just a fever, it's not high."
The middle-aged man, the boy's father and the owner of the manor, John Howlett, comforted him gently.
"You'll be fine in the morning."
While the father and son were having a heartwarming conversation, Viktor Logan, who was standing by the fireplace behind them, had a complicated expression on his face. There was envy, sadness, and even hatred!
But his hatred didn't seem to be directed at the two people in front of him.
"You always say that."
The little boy, James Howlett, heard his father's usual comforting words and complained softly.
John Howlett couldn't help but laugh when he heard his son's words.
"Because you'll be fine every time, right?"
"Mhmm."
James Howlett nodded gently and agreed with his father.
John Howlett reached for the medicine bottle on the bedside table.
"Come, it's time to take your medicine."
At this time, a loud banging on the door suddenly came from downstairs, along with a man's stern voice.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth! "
Elizabeth was the name of John Howlett's wife, and also the mother of James Howlett who was lying on the bed. It was unknown why a man would come to someone's house in the middle of the night and yell the wife's name.
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