What Chen Mo needs has not yet appeared. If he intervenes too early, it may destroy the original plot trajectory and create unknown variables.
So Chen Mo just sneaked into Howlett Manor at night and installed a large number of hidden micro cameras and monitors throughout the manor, allowing Jarvis to monitor it at any time.
He is waiting for a moment to come, and only when something happens and what he is waiting for appears, can he start to intervene in his plan.
Fortunately, he didn't wait too long.
One afternoon a month later, Chen Mo was drinking coffee leisurely in the manor when Jarvis's voice suddenly sounded in his ears.
"Sir, James Howlett is ill, and Victor Logan is in the room with him."
This is exactly the scene before the crucial plot in the movie.
After waving away the servants waiting around him, Chen Mo got up and returned to the study. After closing all the doors and windows, he sat on the chair behind the desk.
"Give me live footage."
"Okay, sir."
As soon as Jarvis finished speaking, a line of light and shadow was projected from Chen Mo's watch and spread out in the air in front of Chen Mo, forming a holographic projection.
It shows a room with retro and gorgeous decoration. There is a large European-style solid wood bed placed against the wall. A teenage boy wearing beautiful red wool pajamas is huddled on the bed.
Coughing.
In front of the fireplace opposite him, a slightly older boy who was dressed in a somewhat old-fashioned way was sitting on a stool in boredom, trimming his nails with a knife carelessly, and chatting with the sick little boy on the bed from time to time.
sentence.
Chen Mo looked at the time, it was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the plot in Chen Mo's memory took place at night. Although the sun sets relatively early in winter, there is still quite a while.
…
Howlett Manor, in the innermost room of the corridor on the second floor, in the fireplace, high-quality firewood cut from the Rocky Mountains is burning, releasing billowing heat, bringing warmth to the room in this cold season.
The temperature is like spring.
As the fire burned, time passed bit by bit, and the sky outside gradually became darker. Even with the firelight of the fireplace, the room still became dark.
"Victor, it's so dark!"
The little boy on the bed said in a weak voice.
"You are already thirteen years old, why are you still afraid of the dark?"
The young man sitting in front of the fireplace rolled his eyes when he heard this, but he still put down the knife in his hand. He stood up and walked to the bedside table next to the boy. He opened the drawer and took out a box of matches. He struck it and lit it on the wall beside the bed.
An oil lamp cast dim light on the boy's face on the bed, making him visibly relieved.
The young man was about to blow out the match, but out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of another oil lamp on the bedside table. He used the remaining flame of the match to light up the hand-held wind lantern he used when going out at night.
The room also became a little brighter under the light of these two oil lamps.
The little boy lying on the bed, James Howlett couldn't help but have a happy smile on his face.
Victor shook his wrist, extinguished the match that was burning to the root, turned around and walked back to the fireplace, sat back on the chair, took out the knife from before and continued to trim his nails.
His nails seemed to be somewhat deformed. They were not wide and thin like ordinary people, revealing the pale flesh color underneath. Instead, they were narrow and thick, almost cylindrical, with sharp front ends, like animal claws. The overall appearance was
A yellow sheen.
At this time, he was using the sharp knife to continuously flatten the surface of the nail bit by bit, and cut off and smoothed the protruding sharp part, trying to make it look closer to a normal person's nail.
However, because the structure of the nails itself is different from that of ordinary people, even if they are carefully trimmed by him, they are still obviously different from other people's nails.
However, he still persevered and kept pruning carefully.
While pruning, he did not forget to talk to James Howlett on the bed to prevent him from getting bored.
It happened that James Howlett coughed several times again, and Victor couldn't help but raise his head and look at him and said.
"Why are you always sick?"
James Howlett coughed a few more times and retorted without any sign of weakness.
"You were often sick when you were my age."
At this moment, the door to the room was suddenly opened, and a gentle middle-aged man wearing a shirt and suit vest opened the door and walked in.
Victor quickly stood up from the chair and hid the nail trimming knife behind his back.
"Good evening, sir!"
The middle-aged man glanced at him unexpectedly, nodded slightly and responded.
"Good evening, Victor, I didn't expect you to still be here."
After the middle-aged man finished speaking, he continued to walk towards the bed.
"I'm just staying with James, sir, if you don't mind."
Victor was still standing by the fireplace and explained.
"You are very good."
The middle-aged man sat down by the bed. Hearing this, he smiled and turned his head to praise Victor. Then he turned to look at the little boy on the bed, put his hand on his forehead, and asked warmly.
"Son, are you feeling better?"
"It's still cold, Dad."
James Howlett said weakly.
"It's just a fever, not high."
The middle-aged man, the boy's father and the owner of the manor, John Howlett, comforted him warmly.
"You'll be fine by morning."
While the father and son were having a warm conversation, behind them, Victor Logan, who was standing by the fireplace, had a somewhat complicated expression on his face, including envy, sadness, and hatred!
But his hatred didn't seem to be directed at the two people in front of him.
"You always say that."
The little boy James Howlett complained softly when he heard his father's usual comfort.
John Howlett couldn't help but feel happy when he heard his son's words, and asked with a smile.
"Because you'll be fine every time, right?"
"Um."
James Howlett nodded slightly and agreed with his father's statement.
John Howlett reached for the pill bottle from the bedside table.
"Come on, it's time to take medicine."
At this moment, a huge banging on the door suddenly came from downstairs, along with a man's stern shout.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth was the name of John Howlett's wife, and she was also the mother of James Howlett, who was lying in bed at this time. But I don't know why a man would come to someone else's house in the middle of the night, knock on the door, and call someone else's wife's name.