Chapter 2: Oh, My Foolish Brother…
Ron has a brother? If they're biological, then he must be just as handsome, right?
Penny's eyes sparkled with infatuation. If I can't land the older brother, maybe the younger one isn't a bad consolation prize…
Given the ten-dollar tip and the undeniable charm of the mysterious man in black, she decided to do Ron a favor and carry his suitcase upstairs. After all, it was just one bag—it couldn't be that heavy.
Meanwhile, Ron slipped into a muscle car and followed the sleek black vehicle that had just driven off.
Ron Lee Cooper.
That's right—he was, unsurprisingly, a transmigrator.
The moment he arrived in this world—being cradled by a beautiful, elegant woman calling his name—he actually thought he'd landed in the Harry Potter universe.
That illusion lasted right up until he noticed something strange:
He had exactly one older brother. No one in the family had red hair.
And—most damning of all—his mother cooked using a gas stove, not magic.
That's when he finally accepted the truth:
He wasn't in a wizarding family. He was born to muggles.
After a thorough investigation—newspapers, news reports, TV shows—he came to a tentative conclusion: he'd transmigrated to 1980s or 90s America.
With that mindset, he lived out the next few years peacefully.
But the longer he stayed, the more off things started to feel.
It began with the neighbor across the street—specifically, the mother who had recently fitted her slow-witted son with leg braces.
It wasn't until dinner one evening, when Mary mentioned the boy's name, that it clicked:
Forrest. Forrest Gump.
On TV, the Andy Dufresne trial had become a national sensation.
The infamous banker-turned-murderer had just been sentenced to life in Shawshank Prison. The Cooper family cheered at the verdict over mashed potatoes.
Bit by bit, everything started to feel eerily familiar.
Then came the final confirmation: his mother gave birth to another set of twins—Missy and Sheldon.
The way Sheldon's young eyes sparkled with intelligence far beyond his years made it all too clear.
He wasn't just in a mishmash of American culture—he was in a world of sitcoms and Hollywood movies.
So that unimpressive kid next door… is going to become the owner of a national restaurant chain and a shareholder in Apple one day? Are you kidding me?
Ron shook his head in disbelief as he walked into the neighborhood park. Most kids were out playing… all except for one.
Sheldon, his eccentric little brother, sat off to the side, brooding as always.
Okay, maybe calling him a "freak" was too harsh—but Ron really didn't have a lot of affection for the arrogant little brat.
Compared to him, sweet little Missy was a literal angel.
At that moment, a few older boys had ganged up and were bullying the slow kid next door—yes, that "slow kid."
Okay, okay, maybe Ron had to stop calling him that too. That wise fool in disguise.
Honestly, Forrest Gump was one of Ron's all-time favorite movie characters. So now, fired up with righteous fury, he stepped forward, puffed out his chest, and shouted:
"Let go of that kid!"
Naturally, the fight didn't go in his favor.
A few bruises and a black eye later, Ron was sitting in the dirt.
Because let's face it—even a one-year age gap made a world of difference in childhood brawls.
But he didn't care. He was thrilled—not just because he'd saved one of his favorite film characters, but because, when Forrest turned to him and said:
"We're friends now."
—a voice rang out in Ron's mind.
"Congratulations, Host. You have gained the trust of your first story character: Forrest Gump.
System activated.
Gift acquired: Forrest's Legacy – The Human Perpetual Motion Machine (20 lbs of food per 100 km. If you don't drop dead, keep running. You got this, buddy—Oh yeah~)"
From that day forward, a new chapter began in Ron's life.
A door to another world had opened.
---
Ron now tailed the black car from a distance for about five kilometers, keeping a low profile. Eventually, the vehicle turned onto an isolated road with no foot traffic in sight.
Then, just like in a classic movie scene, a black sedan appeared out of nowhere.
A police siren blared to life, and a red light spun on the roof.
"Pull over! Keep your hands where I can see them!"
The man in black complied, calmly bringing his vehicle to a halt.
"Good. Now open the door, place your hands on your head, and back toward the trunk, slowly…"
Two armed FBI agents stepped out of the car, weapons drawn, approaching cautiously as if facing a major threat. They closed in inch by inch and cuffed the man in black against the hood of his car.
Ron knew—it was his cue to make an entrance.
"Hey, buddy! What is this, some kind of cops-and-robbers cosplay?" Ron grinned, stepping out of his vehicle with casual swagger.
Immediately, the agents turned their guns on him—but the moment they recognized him, their hostility vanished.
"Hey, Ron… this is official FBI business. You guys at the IRS have no jurisdiction here."
"Official business?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "So the FBI's idea of an investigation now includes playing dress-up with fellow officers on a public street?"
He tilted his head toward the man pinned against the car. "Isn't that right, Detective O'Conner?"
The two agents glanced around nervously, checking that no one was watching. Only after confirming the street was deserted did they let out a sigh of relief.
The balding agent spoke up, "Ron, I think you've got the wrong guy. He's a suspect we're currently investigating. Just happens to resemble someone you think you know."
"Oh, is that so? Well, no big deal—I'm not that close with him anyway."
Ron shrugged. "I just came to share some intel on a certain drug dealer going by the codename Heisenberg. I'm sure you guys wouldn't mind hearing what I have to say… right?"
He gave a cheeky whistle, subtly gesturing toward O'Conner with a knowing look.
"…Alright, let's talk in the car," the balding agent sighed, defeated.
"Feynman, bring the guy along. You two get in the back," he said to the others, then turned to Ron. "You ride shotgun."
"Are you still mad about the sperm bank thing?"
"No!"
Sheldon Cooper and Leonard Hofstadter, both PhDs in theoretical and experimental physics at Caltech, were trudging gloomily up the stairs of their apartment building.
Just moments ago, they had been on a noble mission: to advance the genetic future of humanity and earn enough money to upgrade their internet to high-speed fiber.
But at the very last moment, as expected, Sheldon bailed.
"It's genetic fraud!" Sheldon had shouted, horrified.
Leonard sighed. "You're the one who wanted to go in the first place."
Sheldon remained firm. "Think about those poor women—pinning their hopes on my superior DNA, only to birth children who wouldn't know the difference between integration and differentiation! The horror!"
"I'm sure they'd still love their kids."
"I wouldn't!" Sheldon snapped back. "My sister and I practically share the same genome, and she's a waitress!"
Yes, in Sheldon's eyes, his siblings were nothing more than mouth-breathing morons—completely incapable of appreciating the elegance of science or showing proper reverence to a genius of his caliber.
Even Ron, with his slightly above-average intellect, was no more than a particularly aggressive proto-hominid in Sheldon's mind.
As they approached their apartment, Leonard reached for the doorknob—then froze.
The door across the hall was open, and inside was a stunning blonde woman, unpacking her things.
"New neighbor?" Leonard whispered, wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, his gaze glued to the woman's legs under her shorts. His mouth went dry.
Sheldon shrugged. "Evidently."
"She's… significantly more attractive than the last tenant."
"If you mean—"
Sheldon launched into another monologue, but Leonard was no longer listening. His thoughts were elsewhere.
"Maybe we should be neighborly—like invite her over for lunch or something?" Leonard suggested, already walking toward her.
At that moment, Penny had just finished unpacking and was wheeling Ron's suitcase toward his room.
"Hi! I'm Penny—I just moved in," she said brightly, greeting the two men.
"Hi! I'm Leonard, and this is Sheldon. We live right across the hall."
"Across the hall?" Penny blinked, scanning their faces. She was trying to spot even the faintest resemblance to Ron—anything that might indicate which one of them was his brother.
But no luck.
These two looked painfully ordinary—just like the nerdy guys she used to ignore in school. Compared to the handsome, confident Ron, they were… another species entirely.
"So… do either of you know Ron?"
"Ron?" Sheldon took a defensive step back. "Are you a spy he sent to monitor me?"
"Hahaha~ Oh, my foolish brother…"
The hallway echoed with laughter as Ron's voice rang out. He strolled down the corridor with exaggerated flair.
"You really think I'd send someone who hasn't even graduated from community college to spy on you?"
He looked Sheldon up and down. "Be honest with me—is your IQ even over 100?"