Chapter 250: Dr. House - This World Doesn't Allow Such Awesome People to Exist!
Setting aside Root's shock,
Chuck received a warning from Anna the moment Root attacked and attempted to hack into his electronic devices. He then saw the name Anna had obtained through reverse tracking.
"Root."
Chuck looked at the name as Anna quickly searched for anomalous information nearby based on the address and IP, sending it to him and ultimately locking onto a photo.
It was a photo of Root and her friend Hannah.
Based on the available information, Chuck had almost completely pieced together what had happened. He thought that if his sister Hailey were still in their hometown in Texas, she could probably be good friends with this girl.
Of course, if the murdered Hannah were actually his sister Hailey, the story would likely take a completely different turn.
Chuck then put these things aside.
Anna would naturally handle the matter of the "oil painting beauty," so he didn't need to worry about it.
He then headed back to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.
"Someone should thank me!"
A man on crutches blocked Chuck's path. Dr. House, leaning against the wall around the corner, tilted his head and looked at him smugly.
"You really need it?"
Chuck looked at him.
"You really don't want to?"
Dr. House looked enlightened, then shrugged and smiled. "It didn't matter before, but now I really need it!"
"In that case."
Chuck nodded, then walked past him and headed toward the ICU in the diagnostic department.
"Tch!"
Dr. House realized that Chuck had only said half a sentence and then ignored him. He understood that Chuck was replicating his logic: 'it didn't matter before, but since you don't want to, I'm really happy and really need it.' He could have thanked him, but now he wasn't even paying attention. He adjusted his cane and limped after Chuck.
"You know you're being incredibly rude!"
"You, Gregory House, talking about manners?"
Chuck stopped and looked at him.
"Why not?"
Dr. House's lips curled into a mocking smile. "I'm much more polite than you, aren't I?"
Chuck looked at the shameless Dr. House.
Although Chuck was blunt, he still grasped basic social etiquette, while Dr. House was worldly but cynical, and not in a good way.
Between the two of them was a sharp-tongued but principled young Sheldon Cooper.
Dr. House's various unbearable sarcastic remarks and actions that pushed patients and their families beyond all reasonable limits would have gotten him killed long ago if he hadn't been truly brilliant and blessed with extraordinary luck.
Sooner or later, disaster was inevitable!
The reason Chuck, who understood social etiquette, didn't thank him now for saving Professor Alicia Harper at the last moment—saving him a drop of precious life-saving water—was because Chuck knew that with Dr. House's venomous tongue, he would eventually need a favor.
And when Dr. House asked for help, it meant that the favor would definitely be repaid.
"Don't you think so?"
Dr. House remained nonchalantly smiling despite Chuck's scrutinizing gaze.
"You're right."
Chuck, seeing that Dr. House was deliberately oblivious despite knowing his own flaws, nodded and reached for Dr. House's cane, snapping it in two with minimal effort. "You are indeed much more polite than me."
He then placed the broken pieces of the cane back in Dr. House's hand and turned to leave.
"..."
Dr. House watched Chuck leave after breaking his cane, his lips twitching before curving into a smile.
In the ICU of the diagnostic department.
"Chuck."
"Dr. Wolfe."
Dr. House's three team members were all present, greeting Chuck, along with Dr. House's best friend, Dr. Wilson.
"Huh, where's House? He knew you were coming; he should have been here to meet you."
Dr. Wilson looked behind Chuck and exclaimed in surprise.
"He'll be here soon,"
Chuck said, glancing at Professor Alicia Harper on the hospital bed. She looked much better than before, her eyes brightening with a smile.
"It is indeed an amoeba infection,"
said the attractive Dr. Cameron. "After taking the medication, all her indicators are perfectly normal, and we've confirmed it. Alicia will recover soon."
"But we don't know how she got infected,"
Foreman asked doubtfully. "We've checked Professor Harper's house repeatedly, but we haven't found any trace of amoebas."
"That's easy. She probably went swimming in a lake,"
Dr. House's voice came from behind them.
Everyone looked over and was speechless.
Dr. House, gripping the IV pole of a patient in a wheelchair, limped into the room.
The patient was clearly reluctant.
"House, seriously!"
Dr. Wilson, his friend, was the most exasperated. He went to help Dr. House, making him release the IV pole, and kept apologizing to the patient in the wheelchair.
"What's the big deal?"
Dr. House said dismissively. "You're just getting an IV drip, while I'm disabled for life. What's wrong with borrowing your IV pole? I'm a polite person—recognized by Detective Chuck himself!"
His tone immediately turned sarcastic.
Everyone turned to look at Chuck, sensing there was some drama going on.
Dr. Wilson, being his friend, helped Dr. House sit down, then politely escorted the patient and wheelchair out of the room. He looked at Dr. House, then at Chuck, and said helplessly, "What's going on now?"
Dr. House then recounted the story in his signature sarcastic tone.
"Chuck?"
Dr. Wilson looked at Chuck, suspecting Dr. House was exaggerating.
Yes.
It seemed like something Chuck would do, but the description felt off, exaggerated.
"He's right,"
Chuck readily admitted.
"Did you hear that?"
Dr. House leaned back strategically, glanced at everyone, and looked at the attractive Dr. Cameron. "This is the 'cool and handsome' guy you were talking about!"
"I believe Dr. Wolfe has his reasons,"
Dr. Cameron smiled. "Isn't that right, Dr. Wolfe?"
"I just wanted to do it, so I did it,"
Chuck said, remaining unusually straightforward.
"..."
Dr. Cameron was at a loss for words.
Foreman and Chase were just there to watch the drama unfold. Seeing the atmosphere getting a bit tense, they quickly changed the subject: "Alicia said she hasn't gone swimming in a lake, at least not in recent years, so it's impossible for her to have contracted amoebas from swimming."
"Do I need to spell it out?"
Dr. House mocked sarcastically. "Everybody lies! Especially a beautiful woman like her—swimming in a lake would attract way too much attention!
Since there are no gorgeous photos of her circulating online, it means that even if she chose to swim in a lake, she would choose a secluded spot.
Maybe even at night. Do you think she'd tell you the exact location so you could sneak over and spy on her?"
"..."
Foreman's face darkened.
If it were anyone else, he might have filed a complaint for harassment or sued for defamation. What the hell?! Openly suggesting he'd spy on someone in the dark! It was blatant disrespect.
But since this person was Dr. House, it didn't seem like much; there were far worse things he'd done before.
"The renowned Detective Chuck, tell me—is she lying?"
Dr. House teased. "Or tell us which lake she swam in at night? You should know, right?"
Before the attractive Dr. Cameron could show her disgust, he added dramatically, "Don't get me wrong! It's not me who wants to know, but a friend of mine!
Or rather, everyone wants to know... That way we can avoid that lake; getting infected with amoebas can really kill you!"
"Dr. House, I really haven't gone swimming at night in years,"
Professor Alicia Harper said with a wry smile. "You're not going to tell me that this amoeba can lurk in my brain for over ten years, are you?"
"No!"
Her friend, Dr. Wilson, quickly interjected. "Amoeba infection has a short incubation period, usually three to five days, at most seven to fifteen days. It won't incubate for that long."
"Oh, I only knew you, Dr. Wilson, were a ladies' man, but I didn't know you were an infectious disease expert,"
Dr. House scoffed. "Is anyone among us an infectious disease expert? Oh, wait—I'm the infectious disease expert!"
"She's telling the truth,"
Chuck interrupted his performance.
"You said you haven't been swimming at night recently, and after Detective Chuck's verification, I'll take that as true,"
Dr. House said seriously, but his tone and expression were full of sarcasm. He said with a playful look in his eyes, "Then there's only one explanation: you were deliberately poisoned, and the reason..."
At this point, he shifted his gaze to Chuck. Not finding his cane beside him, he complained a few times, then pointed at Chuck: "Most likely because of him!"
"Why do you say that?"
Dr. Cameron asked curiously.
"Have you forgotten who he is?"
Dr. House said with an air of knowing everything. "And what has he done? He's pissed off so many powerful people, and he's still alive and well.
And after she fell ill, the first thing she did was demand a full toxicology screening. This clearly shows that some people, unable to touch him, are now retaliating against those around him."
"Don't talk nonsense!"
Dr. Wilson, her friend, quickly interjected. "Alicia has a husband."
"Where was her husband before? Where is he now?"
Dr. House scoffed. "And who's standing next to her bed?"
Everyone turned to look at Chuck.
Professor Alicia Harper remained silent, lost in thought.
"Great Detective, how's my deduction?"
Dr. House looked at Chuck smugly. "Although I usually only diagnose medical conditions and symptoms, I feel that solving crimes is pretty simple, isn't it?"
"Do you know there's a great detective in England named Sherlock Holmes?"
Chuck countered with a question.
"I've heard of him,"
the handsome Dr. Chase couldn't help but chime in, trying to make his presence known. "Isn't he that great detective with the funny deerstalker hat?"
"He's a loner, sharp-tongued, and his only hobby is solving mysteries,"
Chuck said. "He's an addict living at 221B Baker Street, a high-functioning sociopath, morally ambiguous, rule-averse, and has only one doctor best friend named Watson..."
As Chuck continued, everyone's gaze grew increasingly strange, turning toward Dr. House.
"What?"
Dr. House disliked the looks, shrugging and muttering, "That does sound like me, but it's definitely not me."
"Of course it's not you,"
Chuck nodded. "His name is Sherlock Holmes, your name is House. His best friend is Watson, and your best friend is Wilson.
It's just that the names are similar, the addresses are the same, and the personalities and habits are similar. No one would ever say you're a knockoff of the great detective with the deerstalker hat."
"..."
Everyone was speechless, yet couldn't help but chuckle.
So many similarities were simply too absurd, making them wonder about the relationship between House and this Sherlock Holmes.
"Sounds interesting. If Dr. House and this Sherlock Holmes met..."
Foreman chuckled. "It would be truly entertaining."
"I'm afraid it wouldn't be so harmonious,"
Dr. Cameron shook her head.
Two people with such similar personalities, both arrogant and full of themselves, would definitely clash if they met.
Hmm!
Many people particularly dislike certain individuals because they hate seeing their own reflection in that person, especially their negative traits.
And if House met Sherlock Holmes, he would truly be confronting himself!
"Who said anything about harmonious?"
Foreman tilted his head, giving a knowing smile.
He had been tolerating Dr. House for a long time and was very much looking forward to this clash of titans.
Yep.
The more intense and brutal, the better!
"They will meet,"
Chuck said calmly. "Someday in the future, perhaps in the same rehab center."
"Please! Like you're not one of us,"
Dr. House retorted, unable to hold back any longer. "If that day ever comes, the three of us can get together and form a support group."
"I'm different from you,"
Chuck refused to accept this comparison. "My body has a congenital condition; medication doesn't alleviate the pain I've had since birth.
You, on the other hand, are addicted because you're addicted; it's not actually a medical necessity.
Anyone who didn't know better would think you were spokesmen for Big Pharma or drug cartels."
"I broke your cane just now, partly because I felt like doing it on a whim, but also to thank you for curing the professor.
Without a cane, you have even more reason to take painkillers, don't you?"
"Wow, so you broke my cane to thank me."
Dr. House said exaggeratedly. "Then I really have to thank you."
"You're welcome."
Chuck accepted the thanks with a straight face. "Actually, just like you don't need to keep taking drugs, you don't really need a cane either. Of course, the prerequisite is that you can, as you keep claiming, truly rise above God's cruel joke despite everyone's prayers. But obviously, you haven't."
"..."
Dr. House paused, a flood of retorts rushing through his mind, unsure which to voice first.
What the hell? Just because he can stand up doesn't mean he doesn't need a cane!
He's got a bum leg; does standing up magically replace that leg?
He may be arrogant, but he's not so delusional as to think he's that awesome!
This world doesn't allow people to be that awesome!
What is Chuck thinking all day? Even his mockery is so uniquely twisted... it's strangely entertaining.
(End of Chapter)
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