Bruce was driving back with Reid in the passenger seat. Centerville wasn't far from Quantico, about an hour's drive away.
Reid glanced at Bruce cautiously. Seeing that Bruce was driving with an expressionless face, he frowned and shifted his gaze away to look out of the window. After a while, he looked at Bruce again.
"Are you … okay?" Reid's voice was a little hesitant. He felt that Bruce's face was a little pale.
Bruce didn't say anything. The radio in the car was playing music. When the song ended, Bruce said, "While.
My
Guitar
Gently
Weeps. "
"What?" Reid tilted his head to look at him and asked. Only then did he realize that Bruce was talking about the song that had just played.
"The Beatles, it's a classic song."
"I've been learning this recently."
"Guitar? I heard Garcia mention it. She also said that you originally wanted to learn the violin, but she convinced you to change your mind. She thinks that men who play the guitar are very attractive. "Reid thought of something and smiled." How's it going? "
"… Beginner, can read music, can play a few basic notes." Bruce felt that he still had a long way to go before he could play a complete song.
"If I remember correctly, you've been learning for a few months?" Reid was a little puzzled.
"Yes. What's the problem?"
"A few months and that's all? You may not be suitable to learn this instrument. It's best to consider changing. Or maybe you're not good at music … "
"I just don't have time to practice!" Bruce interrupted him. Even his guitar teacher had tactfully advised him not to, but he firmly believed that he was just too busy to practice and that he hadn't been learning for a long time.
"Well, then I look forward to the day you can play this song." Reid understood and held back his laughter.
After a while, Reid said again, "So, are you really okay?"
"What can happen to me?" Bruce said lightly.
"Okay, I just want to say that although the suspect committed suicide, you didn't let him cause any harm in Centerville. You saved someone's life. That's the most important thing." Looking at Bruce's expressionless face, Reid pursed his lips. "I remember one time, a suspect held a hostage. I followed his story according to his profiling and tried to use his experience to move him. Although I made him give up on harming the hostage, the suspect still committed suicide. After that, for a whole month, the image of him committing suicide would appear in my mind whenever I closed my eyes. At that time, whenever I had free time, I would try to analyze the suspect's psychology to understand why he did what he did. I always wondered if he would choose to commit suicide if he had another chance."
Bruce glanced at Reid and found that Reid was frowning. It was not easy for him to remember these things. "You don't have to —"
Reid interrupted him. "But there was another time. After that, in a similar situation, the murderer had a new victim who was still alive, but he was at the end of his rope and surrounded by us. He didn't want to be arrested and wanted to use the hostage as a hostage to make a request. This time, I tried to go against the murderer's words and make him give up on harming the hostage, but he still committed suicide."
"I've been troubled by this for a long time. Rossi told me to think about the people we saved. They are innocent victims. The most important thing is that we have to understand that we can't save everyone. I want to pass this sentence on to you. "
Reid looked at Bruce, who was still expressionless. He swallowed and said dryly, "Well, unlike Rossi or Morgan, I may not be suitable to enlighten others. Usually, I'm the one being enlightened. But if you have anything to say to me, feel free to tell me."
"Thank you, I will. But I won't be troubled by the murderer's suicide." Bruce said in a low voice. He was touched. They were really good people in every sense of the word. He never knew that Reid would blame himself for the murderer's suicide, even though they had gone through the same case.
At most, Bruce felt that the murderer deserved to die, but they cared about every life.
"Then why?" Reid relaxed and leaned against the back of the chair, looking a little lazy.
Of course, it was the flawed remote control and the snow.
But of course, he couldn't say that. "I'm just a little tired. Probably because I didn't sleep well last night." It snowed. It was more difficult to snow in this hot season than in winter, and he seemed to have overexerted himself after discovering the difficulty.
It was already sunset when he returned to Quantico. Bruce met Lawrence and his daughter next door on the road outside his house. They seemed to be walking their dog.
"Good afternoon, Bruce." The girl waved warmly. Mr. Lawrence, who was on the phone, also nodded at him.
They had never met in this case, but Bruce had already guessed his identity as a mutant. When Bruce walked to his house, he heard what he said on the phone.
"… Thank you very much for your help, Ms. Monroe. I didn't expect this to disturb you. The follow-up has been taken care of."
"What? You said you didn't do it? But I only asked you for help? "
"Okay, I'll try my best to get to the bottom of this."
…
Back home, Bruce felt exhausted. He didn't want to cook, so he ordered takeout. After taking a shower, he wiped his dripping hair and laid on the sofa in the living room. He turned on the TV and waited for takeout. A piece of news caught his attention.
"Alaina Group issued a statement. This morning, artificial snow experiments were conducted in the mountains of northeastern Virginia. Their research department claimed to have found a material that could greatly reduce the cost of artificial snow. However, due to improper operation, it caused widespread snow in more than ten towns in the northeastern part of the state, including Prince William County and Arlington. Although the snow only lasted less than half an hour, it had a certain impact on the local climate, agriculture, and animal husbandry. Currently, the Department of Environmental Protection has intervened to investigate …"
Bruce sat up straight in his seat. The speed and manner of this matter being resolved was unexpected. Although it was a good thing for him, it left him in a huge dilemma.
Suddenly, he remembered the phone call he had heard outside the door. Bruce knew that Lawrence had some understanding of the murderer, but could that phone call be related to this?
The follow-up was taken care of?
And the person on the phone, Ms. Monroe, Munro, or Monroe?
For a moment, Bruce wanted to call Garcia to help investigate, but he quickly realized that it was impossible to find anything with just a surname.
He thought of something again. He walked into the bedroom and took out a business card from the pocket of his suit jacket. It was given to him by Ramos after the case was over when he asked him about the mutated humans. He told him that most of the answers he wanted to know could be found on the business card.
Bruce flipped to the back of the business card. It was a website. He turned on the computer and entered it into the address bar. Soon, the page on the screen jumped and a prompt popped up.
You are visiting a private website. Please login/register.
He clicked on register. There was only one line: Please enter the invitation code.
Bruce entered the line of characters written on the back of the business card under the website and successfully entered the registration page. There were only two required fields on the registration page, a nickname and a password. He was eager to know something, so he only filled in these two fields. When he entered the nickname, he saw the remark in brackets: Please relate the nickname to your ability.
After hesitating for two seconds, Bruce filled in "White Night."
Finally, he entered the website and found that it was a forum. The word "Tribute" was written in a large font in the middle of the top. Like most forums, it was divided into several sections. On the main page, there was a post marked as a must read for newcomers. Bruce clicked on it.
He quickly browsed through it. First, there was a short paragraph of text explaining the origin and purpose of the forum. Then there was a long paragraph of text that thanked the mutated human pioneers for their efforts in today's situation. When he scrolled down the page, Bruce saw the introduction of these pioneers.
Everyone had a photo and a brief description.
Most of these were names that Bruce was familiar with, such as Professor X, Magneto, Phoenix, Mystique, and so on.
Suddenly, his eyes stopped somewhere. It was the face of a black woman with gray hair. She had a capable image and firm eyes.
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