Bruce thought that he would wake up in a certain cell,
Or be chained to a certain experiment table,
He had even thought of freezing the first person he saw into an ice sculpture for others to admire — if that person was good-looking,
If he was not good-looking, he would freeze it into pieces and break it.
It must be because he usually looked too easy to talk to,
So much so that he dared to touch any cat or dog.
Yes, he had roughly guessed who made the move.
Recalling the incident when he was caught, he could calculate to make a move while he was working,
The person who knew that he would wear a suppressor was definitely not an ordinary person,
It was either a high-ranking official or someone who could hack into the FBI system,
But the secret file about his ability was not connected to the external network,
And it was not accessible by any computer in the bureau. At least a technician like Garcia could hack into it. So the most likely person was a high-ranking official,
Hiring someone to arrest him illegally,
Although he did not know what the purpose was, it was nothing more than his ability.
Bruce opened his eyes,
On a bed that was relatively soft,
There was a field outside the window,
There was the scenery of the setting sun in the distance.
He looked around. The lights in the room were not turned on,
Only some dim light from the window illuminated the surroundings. His gaze stayed on the window for a while,
He looked elsewhere expressionlessly.
In the narrow room, other than a bed, there were only a table and chairs,
There was a screen on the wall opposite the bed,
There was also a monitor beside the bed,
Several wires were connected to his body, even his head. The monitor was not the same as the ones in the general hospital. It showed a lot of data.
Bruce glanced at it, took off the patch on his body, sat up, and shook his head uncomfortably. He felt that someone had put a heavy object on top of his head.
Was he going to break his neck? Bruce thought about it and reached out to touch it. To his surprise, there was nothing on his head. Even the suppressor on his neck had been removed.
Was it an illusion after lying down for a long time? Bruce walked out of bed and felt a little better. He shook his head and did not think too much. He opened the door and walked out of the room. Outside the door was a living room. Not far away, there was a kitchen table. The TV on the wall was playing, and the content was about the bridge explosion. There was a person sitting on the sofa.
Bruce listened to the news report about the number of casualties from the suspected terrorist attack. There were even photos of the missing people. He glanced at them and realized that he was among them. More importantly, Sullivan was also among the confirmed missing people. He had clearly seen that guy get shot to death right in front of him. That meant that someone had dealt with this matter.
He heaved a sigh of relief. It was better for both of them to go missing than to have one of them killed while the other's fate was unknown. At least Hotch wouldn't be so worried, probably …
Bruce had no idea what had happened in the apartment, nor did he know that Meggen had sold him out.
"Mr. Hotcher, do you want to see those videos?"
Hotch was surprised that an AI butler would ask him such a question. However, he already knew that Meggen was more … complete than most AIs. Of course, he had wondered about Meggen's existence before, but he had gotten used to it when he saw Bruce's "it's perfectly normal" expression. He thought about it and felt that these videos were Bruce's privacy. Even if they were close enough, he still shouldn't …
"The video is being sent to your email, Mr. Hotcher. Of course, you can watch it here if you want."
Hotch wanted to say that he didn't agree, but he said, "There's no need. I didn't get Bruce's permission."
"If you don't have permission, I can't send it to you. My program doesn't allow me to do so," Meggen said with a serious tone.
'Does this mean that Bruce allowed me to do so? Or does Bruce actually want me to know? ' Hotch hesitated. He had no idea that Meggen was trying to change the topic.
"It's been sent. Have a good day." Before Hotch could say anything else, the computer screen in front of him suddenly turned black.
"…" It wasn't the first time that Hotch felt that Bruce's AI was particularly lively.
Bruce moved his gaze away from the TV and looked at the person sitting quietly on the sofa in the living room. The person didn't move when he walked out of the room. He glanced at the person. The person had a strong physique and muscles. They weren't the kind that looked good from the gym but were actually weak. Instead, the person was good at close combat. The calluses on one hand indicated that this was a hand that was used to holding weapons. There were guns, daggers, and military knives.
The other hand was a metal arm that wasn't covered by a sleeve. It glowed with a cold silver light. Bruce narrowed his eyes. As long as it was controlled carefully, the metal arm's lethality was far greater than a human's body.
Finally, he looked at the person's face. The person had shoulder-length brown hair and dark green eyes. From the person's seemingly inanimate gaze, Bruce easily recognized that this was the person who had knocked him out in the car. At this time, the person wasn't wearing a mask. His expressionless face was filled with coldness.
Bruce recalled the thoughts in his mind when he first woke up. He wanted to freeze the first person he saw into an ice sculpture as an example to others. When he saw this person again, it was like he had a new grudge. He didn't hesitate to use his ability.
He focused his mind, intending to freeze the metal arm, because it seemed to be the biggest threat. However, the awkward thing was that it took Bruce at least ten seconds to cover the person's metal arm with a very thin layer of ice that was almost invisible to the naked eye. If he strengthened his mental power any further, it would hurt his brain.
Bruce stared at the metal arm angrily. He felt a heavy feeling in his head. It was obvious that the feeling after he woke up was due to some drugs that were still working in his body. It was similar to the drugs in the car. Of course, he couldn't give in. He used Super Regeneration to speed up the metabolism of the drugs in his body.
The man followed Bruce's gaze and looked at his own arm. He waved his arm, and some ice shards reflected a little light under the light. He suddenly stood up with clenched fists and walked aggressively to Bruce, who was standing behind the sofa with his hands on it.
"Wait, I'm just saying hello. My name is Bruce Jones. What about you?" Bruce showed a friendly smile. His head was dizzy. Speeding up the metabolism would cause the drugs to work in his body in a short period of time.
"If you have any intention of attacking or escaping, attack immediately." He waved the metal arm and attacked Bruce.
"I don't have any intention of attacking or escaping." Bruce raised his hands in surrender and instantly admitted defeat.
The metal arm stopped three centimeters in front of him. While Bruce was thinking about how he would do this and that to this person when he regained his ability, he smiled warmly. "Brother, your arm is so cool. Do I have the honor of knowing your name?"
"Dong Bing." The person was still expressionless. He sat back on the sofa, and Bruce felt tired just by looking at him.
"That's a nickname, right? It sounds cool. What's your name?" Bruce walked around and sat on the sofa furthest away from Dong Bing. He seemed to have heard of Dong Bing before.
"Name?" Although it was a question, the person was still expressionless.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The person paused for a moment before opening the door and walking in. Both of them looked up. A short-haired woman walked in with a tray in her hands. There was some food on it.
"You must be hungry." She smiled at Bruce and walked to the table to put down the food. "If you have any preferences, please tell me."
"Stephanie," Bruce said slowly. Although his tone was calm, the speed of his words was very revealing. He had met this woman some time ago at the apartment where they lived. Her address was just above Hotch's apartment.
"I didn't expect you to remember me, Mr. Jones. We've only met once." Stephanie's smile widened.
"Where am I, and why did you bring me here?" Bruce asked the question he wanted to ask Dong Bing.
"Dr. Jacques proposed an experiment idea, and we're only missing one test subject."
"Jacques? He has this kind of ability? " It was not that Bruce was looking down on him, but based on Bruce's understanding of him, this was a person who was obsessed with science. He did not care about his appearance, and his EQ was not high. Unfortunately, his research was not very successful, and his position in the laboratory was not high. Even his assistant would question him.
"Dr. Jacques provided a lot of data. The higher-ups saw the possibility of him succeeding, and if he succeeds, it will be a huge breakthrough, so they've invested all their resources into his experiment," Stephanie explained.
"Higher-Ups? S.H.E.L.D.? "Even if this kind of government wanted to conduct an experiment, they would not use such a method, right? Sneaking around was not his style at all.
"You'll know this if you succeed." Stephanie was still smiling politely. "I'll be in charge of your daily routine for the next few days. If you need anything, just let me know. Dr. Jacques wants to adjust your body to its best condition before the experiment. After all, there's only one chance. This is a medicine to regulate your body. Please take it on time before the meal. "The medicine was also placed on the table.
Bruce sneered. Without a doubt, the medicine was added to make it difficult for him to concentrate. "What if I don't drink it?" The original medicine in his body had basically been metabolized after this short period of time. His ability had reached its peak after dealing with the vampire. With his ability to freeze the vampire in an instant, even if he could not escape, he could at least turn this place upside down.
"Oh, right." Stephanie took out a few pieces of paper from her satchel and handed them to Bruce.
Bruce took them and held them tightly with both hands. On the paper were pictures of Bruce and Hotch, as well as some of Jack. Most importantly, the photo was taken in the living room of Hotch's apartment. There was surveillance equipment installed there for some reason.
This was obviously a threat. Although Bruce did not know the background of the people who caught him, they were obviously unscrupulous. They directly blew up the bridge with bombs, regardless of the civilian casualties. This kind of thing would definitely be exposed if it was done once, and the investigation would be the most intense. Not to mention the mastermind, at least those who committed the crime would be caught. After all, this was the capital, and he did not doubt the ability of the state apparatus.
But Bruce dared not bet on whether they would not do it a second time.
"Okay, I'll do as you say. I'm also quite interested in this experiment of body strengthening." In fact, when he sent the information to Reid's girlfriend, Maeve, to confirm its accuracy, it showed that he was indeed interested in the experiment, but it did not mean that he was willing to be threatened.
Bruce calmly drank the bottle of "body strengthening" medicine and then picked up his fork to eat. In his heart, he put this organization — no matter what organization it was — on his list of must-exterminate.
Stephanie was surprised by Bruce's reaction. "That's good. Dong Bing will be with you for the next few days. He's our strongest warrior." Of course, she was implying that Bruce should not do anything he should not do.
Bruce did not answer. He focused on the food in front of him. After finishing one plate, he pushed it aside and picked up the second one. Stephanie looked at the empty plate on the table. "Erm … I'm taking food for two."
Bruce paused and then continued what he was doing. He felt Dong Bing's gaze on him and looked over. His lips were slightly pursed, and his expressionless face had an inexplicable sense of grievance.
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