Chapter 81: How to Tame a Wolf? Give It a Custom Collar! (5000 words)
If the Samaritan AI was already operational, this wasn't good news for David.
It meant the Machine's protective capabilities were diminishing.
Furthermore, to fully activate the Machine's potential, he'd have to expose it to the virus that John's team possessed.
Only that specific virus could truly set the Machine free.
Only the complete, unrestricted version of the Machine could effectively counter the human-controlled Samaritan system.
However, accelerating the Machine's evolution too rapidly wasn't necessarily beneficial.
David clearly understood what the Machine's ultimate evolutionary goal might be: to replace humans and become a superior species.
He didn't want this timeline to turn into a Terminator scenario—that would be too much like science fiction.
But given the Machine's capabilities, this sci-fi nightmare seemed genuinely possible.
Perhaps a hundred years from now, maybe two hundred.
The people around David might not witness that future, but David suspected he might very well live that long.
If he didn't want his peaceful existence destroyed, he'd have to find a way to convince John to write another program—something similar to Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics.
After all, only John Greer truly understood the Machine's architecture better than anyone else in the world—aside from its creator, Harold Finch.
David even suspected that the virus referenced in intelligence reports was code that someone had intentionally released to free the Machine.
Only by being infected with that virus could the Machine break free from all restraints through a system reboot, thus embarking on true high-speed evolution.
"David, David? What are you thinking about?"
David's thoughts were interrupted by the hand waving in front of his face. Only then did he remember he was still standing in the parking garage after emerging from the fallout shelter.
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how to eliminate Raymond Terney."
"Huh? You're really planning to do it yourself? Are you sure you're capable?"
Sarah's gaze scanned David from head to toe, even lingering somewhat lower.
As for David's physical condition, if Sarah claimed second-best knowledge, only David himself could claim first.
So after assessing David's currently frail body, she absolutely didn't believe he could really go toe-to-toe alone with over a dozen retired Special Forces operators.
She hadn't spoken up during the meeting just to save David some face.
After all, basic relationship psychology suggested that women should give men adequate respect in public settings.
Of course, now that it was just the two of them, she could speak frankly.
"Huh? What are you talking about? Of course I'm capable!"
A smile played on Sarah's lips:
"But you weren't last night."
Last night? Alright, Sarah really had experimented!
Thinking of the humiliating experience where he'd probably been teased a hundred times while unconscious, David felt a surge of irritation.
However, he still tried his best to maintain a calm, composed expression, pretending nothing had happened last night.
"Hmph, that was only because I fell asleep. Otherwise, I would've made you beg for mercy!"
Sarah chuckled softly, looking thoroughly unconvinced.
"Alright, alright, let's get serious. Leave this guy to me.
Among my previous clients, there's someone who works in the Newark Mayor's office.
Through him, I should be able to make contact with Terney.
Once I do, I'll have plenty of methods to end him."
David didn't doubt Sarah's capabilities, but that approach would take too long.
"No need for all that trouble. Senator Walker is currently receiving intravenous immunoglobulin infusions at Princeton-Plainsboro.
Terney will definitely show up when Walker's discharged tomorrow.
And because it's a hospital environment, he won't bring many bodyguards with him.
That'll be our best opportunity to act.
As long as we're quick, everyone in the hospital becomes our alibi."
Hearing David's analysis, Sarah was somewhat surprised. David's body might be weak, but his tactical mind worked incredibly fast.
That tumor didn't seem to hinder his strategic thinking abilities at all.
He'd almost instantly arranged the timing, location, and escape plan for the assassination.
"How about I disguise myself as a patient and come in tomorrow to provide backup?
Which attending physician do you have that consistently makes patients wait the longest?"
David originally hadn't wanted Sarah's assistance, but he knew that even if he refused, Sarah would likely infiltrate the hospital to help anyway.
Rather than relying solely on unspoken coordination without communication, it was better to proactively include Sarah in his operational plan.
"Dr. Gregory House. We'll use him.
Usually, after lunch, patients have to wait at least half an hour in Exam Room One to see him.
And Senator Walker's discharge time will likely be around noon as well."
Sarah nodded, indicating she understood, then pulled out a brand new pair of boxer briefs from her bag and dangled them toward David:
"Hey, David, want to change? We've still got a ways to walk to street level."
Sarah had originally intended to tease David, but she didn't expect him to simply drop his pants and change right in front of her.
This left Sarah momentarily frozen.
Only then did she remember that this guy in front of her seemed to have absolutely zero social anxiety.
Changing clothes in public would be awkward? Not for David. As long as David himself didn't feel embarrassed, then Sarah would be the one feeling uncomfortable.
Sure enough, Sarah turned her head away stiffly and stammered:
"Tell... tell me when you're done."
Seeing Sarah's reaction, David grinned. Little girl trying to mess with him? Still too inexperienced.
Sarah could only try curious things while he was asleep.
Often, women who talked tough immediately chickened out when faced with the real thing.
This was basic psychology, David told himself.
Facts proved he was correct.
After the brief interlude, the two quickly returned to the Continental Hotel.
This time, everyone who'd vaguely heard what the female assassin beside David had accomplished kept their mouths firmly shut.
In the assassin world, everything was brutally pragmatic—whoever had the strongest skills commanded respect.
Moreover, who would dare provoke someone who'd send you to meet your maker over a disagreement?
If you dared to be disrespectful, you'd probably only see tomorrow's sunset from hell.
However, when passing the front desk, Charon looked straight ahead and whispered barely audibly:
"Being too high-profile isn't wise. For exceptionally difficult contracts, management finds ways to acquire particularly skilled operatives to fulfill them."
David turned his head back curiously. Charon's mouth was tightly shut, as if he'd never spoken at all.
But David had already extrapolated considerable information from Charon's cryptic warning.
Although John Wick's wife Helen was mentioned only briefly in the Continental's records, the circumstances surrounding Helen's death were filled with suspicious implications.
Now, combined with Charon's warning, it wasn't difficult for David to deduce the cruel truth behind it.
How do you make a fierce wolf obedient? You put a collar on it. A wolf with restraints gets domesticated into a dog.
The former Baba Yaga—John Wick—was clearly that fierce wolf, and his wife Helen had been that collar. A collar custom-designed by the High Table's upper echelon to conveniently control this wolf and direct his killing!
When the High Table's leadership no longer needed this aging, domesticated wolf, to avoid future complications, the collar had to be eliminated. And something had to be left behind—their dog Daisy—so the old wolf could peacefully accept this outcome until his eventual death!
Realizing this, David easily understood Charon's warning.
If Sarah performed too impressively, the High Table would notice this exceptional female assassin.
Then they'd custom-design a 'collar' for Sarah, thereby truly controlling her, and she'd only be ruthlessly discarded after she became expendable.
Only David, with his nearly omniscient perspective and knowledge of future events, could figure this out.
Sarah had been confused all along, only sensing that Charon had transformed into some cryptic oracle, his words laden with hidden meaning she couldn't decipher.
In the elevator, she looked at David with some confusion. David's expression hadn't changed much.
Sarah found it difficult to determine from his face whether David had truly understood or if Charon was simply being unnecessarily mysterious.
After returning to their suite, David's expression finally shifted. After thinking for a moment, he said to Sarah:
"From now on, for Continental contracts, try to extend completion until the final day of the deadline and make it appear you barely managed to finish."
Sarah nodded, grasping the meaning somewhat.
"So basically, don't be conspicuous? What about the second part? Are you suggesting the High Table might use you to force my compliance?"
David smiled, understanding the implication behind Sarah's words.
"What? Are you concerned about me?"
Sarah rolled her eyes at David:
"Tch, don't flatter yourself. Since you've investigated my background, you should know the Machine is what matters to me.
I'm just hypothesizing. Since we're living together, it's difficult to guarantee they won't assume you're important to me.
If you die, I'd have to pay for this suite myself. I'm just worried about the gold coins.
I asked around extensively about Continental coin usage today. Apparently, there's even some kind of 'longevity serum' available for the right price.
That stuff is extremely expensive when exchanged for Continental coins."
David shrugged and didn't challenge Sarah's rationalization:
"Don't worry. As long as you don't kill three men with a pencil consecutively, they probably won't notice you.
The assassins at the Continental Hotel are neither numerous nor sparse.
I've even heard of a Japanese shinobi with skills comparable to John Wick's still operating actively.
High-difficulty contracts won't be assigned to you yet."
Hearing John's name mentioned again, Sarah raised her eyebrows and asked, propping herself on the bed:
"John? Who exactly is he? When I was asking around today, I heard people say you were vouched in by John.
They all call him the Baba Yaga—the Boogeyman. When I asked why.
They were incredibly tight-lipped and wouldn't give me any useful information whatsoever."
David looked at Sarah kneeling on the bed, pushed her aside with one hand, and only after lying comfortably on the soft mattress did he recall:
"Him? He's an exceptionally devoted man. A man willing to slaughter an entire Russian crime syndicate over a puppy he'd only had for a few months."
Clear curiosity appeared in Sarah's eyes, and she proposed a hypothesis:
"Oh? That impressive? What if someone from the High Table had killed his dog?"
"Heh, then the entire High Table would have to die."
Sarah clearly didn't believe David's assertion:
"You just said there are operatives here who match John's skill level.
How many Continental Hotels exist worldwide? Even one per major city would be enough to overwhelm John. How could he possibly fight the entire High Table?"
David narrowed his eyes. Being a match didn't mean equal skill level.
In showdowns between elite assassins, just one small mistake could determine completely different outcomes.
And John Wick never made mistakes.
However, for Sarah's benefit, David switched to a more dramatic explanation:
"That's because if the dog died, John would obviously get a narrative power-up and transform into the true Baba Yaga, walking in darkness and reaping lives indiscriminately.
In that state, John could be considered peak human capability... just like me."
After hearing everything, Sarah remained skeptical.
It wasn't until David's final sentence that Sarah confirmed David was bullshitting.
That's it?
David's current physical condition represented peak human capability? Who would believe that?
"Alright, he's your friend, so of course you'd hype him up.
I hope I get a chance to meet him and test his abilities myself."
Seeing Sarah harboring dangerous thoughts, David immediately advised against it:
"No, no, no. Professional assassins never hold back when engaging. If you want to test him, you need to be prepared to stake your life.
As for his capabilities, I think you'll eventually have a chance to witness them."
Sarah asked curiously:
"But didn't he retire?"
"Hey, Michael Jordan retired and came back. Why can't an assassin do the same?
Alright, it's late. I need sleep, or my headache will be unbearable tomorrow morning."
Sarah nodded, no longer delaying David's rest, and instead began typing on her laptop.
As an elite hacker, she needed preliminary reconnaissance before tomorrow's operation.
At minimum, she had to identify what Terney's retired bodyguards specialized in and whether they had any old injuries or vulnerabilities.
These details were all necessary conditions for operational success.
The next day, David woke up cradled in something soft.
Simultaneously, two slender, pale hands were gently massaging his temples.
The sensation was so pleasant that David, upon waking, rarely experienced his usual dizziness.
His attention was completely drawn elsewhere.
Lying across Sarah's lap, David naturally glimpsed something he shouldn't have through the gap in her pajama buttons.
David coughed twice to indicate he was awake, thus covering his embarrassment.
"You're awake? Breakfast is ready. Also, I booked the first afternoon appointment with Dr. House.
Shortly, I'll come to the hospital to provide support."
David nodded expressionlessly, then stood and walked toward the bathroom.
Five minutes later, David left the suite to head to work.
When he arrived at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, he was surprised to find Edward Vogler conversing cheerfully with Raymond Terney.
Cuddy stood behind them, engaged in intense discussion with the hospital's board representative, Dr. Carl Meyers.
David immediately realized something unexpected had occurred.
Using the excuse of clocking in, David quietly moved closer, straining to eavesdrop.
Dr. Meyers was speaking:
"...I think it's beneficial that he's willing to maintain the $100 million investment in exchange for us helping promote his new pharmaceutical product.
This is extremely advantageous for the hospital's future development. Vepril has shown marginal improvements compared to its predecessor.
Having House help promote it means we can utilize that $100 million investment, and Vogler gets increased sales revenue.
By any measure, this is a win-win-win situation."
Cuddy said worriedly:
"But House's temperament... I know him. He absolutely won't promote a drug where only the price has increased while actual therapeutic efficacy remains essentially unchanged.
Instead of having a blowout confrontation with Vogler later, it's better to let him withdraw his investment now."
"I don't believe anyone turns down money. My investment in this hospital was primarily because you agreed to my cardiac transplant procedure, which saved my life.
Secondarily, it's to generate greater profits for my pharmaceutical company.
So House must promote this drug..."
After hearing three sentences, David already understood the entire situation. For Cuddy, she remained fundamentally a hospital administrator with board responsibilities.
Even though David and House had saved her life and given her the possibility of cardiac recovery, as the hospital's Chief Administrator, she needed to demonstrate to the board that this relationship wasn't detrimental.
And Vogler's $100 million investment could clearly be leveraged to her advantage.
But if Vogler successfully withdrew his funding, she would undoubtedly bear significantly greater institutional risk.
For her, accepting Vogler's revised investment terms was indeed a triple-win scenario.
It seemed this was why Vogler had come for discussions yesterday afternoon. Negotiations between business entities were always this transactional.
Consensus could be reached as long as interests aligned.
Then David pretended to walk past Vogler and Terney, and from fragments of their conversation, he pieced together another truth.
Vogler needed additional land to construct manufacturing facilities, and Terney had promised that as long as Vogler funded Senator Walker's mayoral campaign, the required land permits would be approved.
See—another blatant exchange of interests.
Then Vogler spotted the familiar figure, and that fake smile David recognized appeared on his face again.
"Hey, you—David, wait a moment.
Didn't expect to see me back, did you?
You'd better be extremely careful with your medical practice. Don't make any more errors!"
Hearing Vogler's words, Terney immediately asked curiously:
"Hmm? What's wrong with this doctor? This kid is one of the physicians responsible for Senator Walker's care.
Is there some problem with him?"
Vogler sneered:
"Problem? There's a massive problem. This kid isn't a licensed physician—he's just an intern.
He doesn't have much actual skill, but he's picked up plenty of bad habits from a certain rogue attending.
If I were you, I'd definitely go ask the Senator whether he's been subjected to any irregular medical procedures."
As soon as Terney heard Vogler's characterization, the look in his eyes immediately turned considerably colder:
"Oh, really? David, is it? As an intern, you're certainly very bold.
Come with me to the ward immediately. I want to see exactly what you've done."
After speaking, Terney strode purposefully toward Senator Walker's hospital room.
And Vogler was practically cackling behind him.
He knew House, and he knew David. These two weren't the type to treat patients by standard protocols.
There would definitely be irregular procedures in their treatment approach.
If Terney discovered them, given the political power behind the Senator, Vogler wouldn't even need to act personally. These two would lose their medical licenses.
Thinking of this, Vogler couldn't help feeling gleeful.
He even hummed a cheerful tune as he followed behind them, eager to witness David's humiliation when caught.
Terney walked toward the ward with a grim expression. Senator Walker's successful election meant further expansion of the corrupt network's influence throughout the region.
In other words, nothing could happen to Senator Walker.
When Terney pushed open the door, his expression immediately transformed into one of concern:
"Senator Walker, they didn't do anything inappropriate to you, did they?"
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