Chapter 22: Fixing the Circuit

[Chapter 22: Fixing the Circuit]

The office lobby bustled with chaos, a mix of noise and energy.

Ian sat in his office, feeling helpless as he lamented the loss of a significant news story. However, what left him more speechless was the realization that his right eye had not gained any Influence Points. Not a single one.

How could this be happening? Ian couldn't understand.

Was it because this time he hadn't given CBS an exclusive and had released the news jointly with the Herald? It shouldn't have been a problem! Previous stories had also been released jointly, only this time the Herald's report had more to offer... Most of the coverage included more photos than videos, given that it featured a little girl.

Could it be that his system disliked stories like this?

As he pondered, he suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his left eye.

Huh?

Ian rubbed his eyes, realizing that his left eye had also become somewhat uncomfortable. A shiver ran through him as he sat up and gazed into the mirror. In the reflection, he noticed a small line of text beneath his left eye.

"Influence Points: 1/1000."

Damn! So this news activated his left eye?

Did that mean his left eye had a capability of its own? Previous stories had only enhanced the right eye, leading Ian to believe he only had one functional eye.

He hadn't expected this news would activate his left eye too, and the differing progress between both eyes indicated that the left eye was only related to this specific event!

How could that be? Was it because of the nature of the news?

The Charlie Mills and Riverside Villa incidents were typical cases of violent crime, whereas this new development involved something far more sensitive.

"No way!" Ian muttered.

So different types of news corresponded to different outcomes? How did political or economic news fit into that?

Ian had no answers and couldn't do much other than investigate what function his left eye had. He scanned the room but noticed nothing special in its feedback. There was no manual; what a headache!

Curiously, he glanced out the window, where he saw an electrician repairing the circuit on the exterior wall of the neighboring building.

Ian gave it a casual look and tried to activate his left eye's powers. Suddenly, waves of light flickered before him, and he felt what seemed like a new understanding rising within him -- as if memories and skills inherently existed in his consciousness.

Did he just grasp the basics of circuit repair?

Wait a minute, was this some form of copying?

His left eye could replicate abilities from others? Ian was momentarily stunned.

He tried to test this replication again, only to find it ineffective, capable of holding just one at a time.

Damn! What good was circuit repair to him? Ian cursed internally.

Suddenly something clicked in his mind and he brightened up.

He opened the office door and called out to Ron Lloyd in the lobby, "Ron!"

Ron turned to look at him, "What's up?"

"Get me a set of electrician's gear," Ian responded.

Ron frowned, "What do you need that for?"

Ian grinned, "Of course, to fix the circuits."

---

Two days later, Beverly Hills.

This highly renowned neighborhood was known as Hollywood's most prestigious residential area, often dubbed the "most exclusive neighborhood in the world, " a symbol of wealth and fame.

However, Beverly Hills was also divided into affluent and common sectors, but typically, when people mentioned Beverly Hills, they referred to the wealthy side.

For paparazzi, the preferred targets for photography were first celebrities, second politicians, as both were public figures with higher news value -- though stories surrounding violence often held greater value, they came with higher risks and difficulties in acquiring leads.

Every day, numerous paparazzi surrounded the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity's private moments; every snap was a potential payday.

The dynamic between celebrities and paparazzi resembled a never-ending war, shot through with tension.

Security in the wealthy districts was always stringent; guards were armed, and local police patrolled regularly. Due to the many significant figures residing there, it was forbidden for uninvited journalists to enter -- especially paparazzi.

Yet that didn't mean access was impossible; no guard could recognize every resident.

Often, they gauged visitors by their demeanor, attitude, clothes, and vehicles.

Since Ian had sold his Porsche and lacked a luxury car, he decided to walk.

...

As night fell, a white-haired gentleman in a suit strolled casually with a beautiful blonde girl, joking as they approached the wealthy district.

When they passed through the gates, the guard merely glanced at the man without further comment.

Walking together, they ventured into a shaded area, where Ian pulled out two hundred dollars and handed it to the girl. "Thanks for your help, gorgeous."

The girl blew him a kiss, "Next time you need a favor, don't forget to call me."

As he watched her leave, Ian removed his white wig and hurried towards Lili Marlene's house.

His makeup skills were a talent Ian had acquired in his previous life -- unrelated to his former identity, which had little to offer besides indulgence.

...

Ian soon arrived at a lavish villa with curtains drawn over the windows, but the lights and shadows revealed that many were inside dancing and celebrating, loud music ringing in the air.

At the villa's entrance stood a bodyguard, and the yard was filled with luxury cars.

Ignoring the guard, Ian moved directly to the external circuit box and began to work.

Moments later, there was a loud pop, and the lights inside went dark.

Followed by a flurry of angry curses.

He changed into the electrician's outfit and waited calmly.

Ten minutes later, his phone rang.

It was Ron Lloyd's voice, "The car has been stopped; you can head over now. But are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course," Ian replied.

Ron's tone reflected worry, "You know if they catch you, they could easily kill you... You should let someone else handle this."

Ian remained calm, "Don't worry, I can handle it as long as you keep that electrician away."

The big news had to be broken by him; stories crafted by others didn't earn Influence Points.

"Trust me, I treated him to a drink to apologize for scratching his car... He's sound asleep now."

"Nice work."

Ron sighed, "I can't help but feel this isn't a reporter's job; it feels more like a job for a spy."

Ian replied, "Great reporters can do what spies can't, like the Watergate scandal."

...

After hanging up, Ian made his way toward Lili Marlene's villa.

Arriving at the door, he announced, "Service from Selati Company; here to fix the circuits."

The bodyguard glanced at him and nodded, "Go on in."

Ian entered with his bag, pretending to check the circuits.

He examined the lines in the living room and casually slipped a tiny wireless camera among the couch cushions.

Then he stepped out of the living room and headed upstairs.

A bodyguard asked, "What are you doing upstairs?"

Ian didn't turn back, "I need to see where the problem lies; every area must be checked."

In non-professional fields, everyone else appeared clueless! You can only listen to what others say.

As a result, the bodyguard simply shrugged.

Though he dutifully trailed Ian, the installation of a tiny wireless camera didn't require much effort, and sometimes Ian would direct the bodyguard's attention elsewhere.

Installing a few cameras was a walk in the park for Ian. He walked down the staircase and said, "I'll check the circuit box now."

Just as he was about to exit, he spotted someone approaching the door.

*****

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