Christian Wolff nodded, "That's one reason. I want my partner to be someone sharp. Such people tend to live longer."
"And I'm not good at socializing. Your girlfriends include a police chief, an FBI trainee, a psychologist, and even a hacker. I need a partner like you who is good at dealing with people."
"No, no, no, that hacker is just a friend, not the kind of relationship you're thinking of," Jack quickly denied.
"Just like you and your Justin," the accountant's eyes instantly became dangerous, as if Jack had touched a nerve.
"Don't act! Let me finish!" Jack didn't mind testing his combat skills, but the man in front of him was a super autistic patient who hadn't seen his own brother for many years. If a fight broke out in this small office, the accountant would disappear without a trace.
Abby Sciuto only helped him find this accounting firm's address. She wasn't as magical as Jack made her out to be in front of the accountant.
In Christian Wolff's perception, this mysterious LAPD officer had a powerful hacker friend. But in reality, Jack's knowledge came from watching a movie twice in his previous life.
He was usually careless when watching shows, but two key details stuck in his mind: the story was set in Chicago, and when the IRS investigated the accountant, they found that he named his accounting firm with three Zs to avoid being easily found in the phone directory.
"Since you investigated my background, it's fair that I investigate yours, isn't it? Just as you want me to be your partner, I feel the same way. I just don't want to be manipulated like some IRS official who knew nothing."
Seeing the accountant's muscles still tense, ready to attack, Jack sighed. His previous words were indeed somewhat boastful. It's taboo to talk too deeply with strangers, especially with someone as highly sensitive as this.
But since the words were out, he had to find a way to make amends. He hoped the bait he was about to throw would be enticing enough. This was his first contact with someone in the gray area. If he messed up, who knew when the next opportunity would come?
"Asperger's syndrome is very complex, but it's not without ways to improve. You've been undergoing desensitization training, haven't you?" Jack pointed to the coins on the table.
"It was just a small test. I don't know about your childhood, but to make you communicate so normally with people, your family must have put in a lot of effort."
Christian Wolff's face remained expressionless, his slightly bowed head preventing Jack from seeing his eyes, but the room seemed to be filled with sadness.
"What are you trying to say?" His tone was emotionless, but it reassured Jack. Not acting out was the best response, and he quickly continued.
"I have some family heritage that might help you and your friends. Of course, complete cure is impossible and unnecessary. Your talents stem from this, but I can confidently alleviate some negative symptoms."
"From the phone, I could tell that Justin can no longer communicate normally with people and must use synthetic speech, right?"
"Just relying on those herbs and witchcraft from the East? I know you have a quarter of Ceris blood." Actually, it's because I have a system, Jack thought silently. Why is it that our Eastern practices are called witchcraft while your Western practices are called magic or abilities?
"I don't think a country with a history of less than 300 years has the right to look down on a civilization that has lasted 5000 years. You know how the person on the coin died, right? Of course, believe it or not, I don't want to get into trouble over this."
Jack dared to boast because he wasn't bluffing. Although Asperger's syndrome is complex and not solely caused by physiological changes, he had the psychology skills granted by his system.
In the original story, the IRS official used the accountant's information to rise quickly in the department. For Jack, it meant gaining a lot of experience and system coins. Even if his treatment skills didn't work, he could invest heavily in psychology skills without losing out.
A long silence followed. Just when Jack started to feel uneasy, an old-fashioned phone on the accountant's desk rang.
Christian Wolff picked up the receiver without speaking, but Jack's keen hearing allowed him to catch the synthesized female voice on the other end.
"Trust him. There was an old cop named Rick Hunter who suffered a severe stroke causing hemiplegia. After meeting him, he almost fully recovered within three months."
Christian Wolff, evidently not a skilled negotiator, directly stated his terms.
"Fifty million dollars. Just make Justin willing to step outside and see the world."
Jack waved his hands, "I'm not here to extort you, though I know you're wealthy."
He wasn't one of those corrupt officials from his previous life, piling up walls of money at home without daring to spend it, making it no different from waste paper.
"But if possible, I'd like you to help me set up a small trading company to import some floral essential oils and other beauty products from Ceris and sell them here."
Jack remembered that the accountant laundered his gray income through a bunch of retail stores in the original plot. Doing some small business through these channels shouldn't be a problem. This way, he could have a legitimate additional income source, and if there were any unexpected surprises in the future, he could cash out through this channel.
Sudden wealth isn't always a good thing. It attracts attention. Who's ever seen a millionaire working as a beat cop on the street? This isn't a Will Smith movie.
The accountant nodded, "I can register an import-export company in your name and handle all the paperwork. Do you have any profit margin requirements?"
Jack shook his head. He used to work in this industry in his previous life, mainly in exports, so he was familiar with it.
"Just list me as a partner. I'll give you a list of import goods. The profitability is not an issue. You'll need to find a professional manager to handle operations, someone familiar with customs clearance. I won't be involved in day-to-day affairs.
"My future goal might be federal agencies like the FBI, so my background must be absolutely clean. This is also beneficial for our long-term cooperation."
The accountant understood, "I'll ensure you receive no less than a hundred thousand dollars in annual dividends, without any issues from the IRS or the FBI."
Jack appreciated the accountant's understanding. Now it was his turn to show sincerity.
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