The call connected. After the other person's "Hello?" came a brief silence, as if waiting for his reaction, or perhaps exerting an invisible pressure.
Mason's heart hammered against his ribs, fear gripping him. Was this retaliation from the Time Gallery? Trouble stirred up by Lily or Kevin? Or… had his frequent use of his "ability" finally drawn the attention of… certain entities? Old Samuel's words—"The world breaks everyone"—echoed like a ghost in his mind.
How could a nobody like him, a bottom-feeder, spar with a clearly prepared journalist?
Despair rose like icy tidewater, gradually drowning his ankles, his knees, his chest… He needed a lifeline, even an illusory one!
That woman. The mature woman who, after he'd torn her stockings, hadn't screamed or berated him. Instead, with a deep, almost appraising calm, she had handed him her card.
*"If… you need a job that's less 'hazy,' or just want someone to talk to, you can call this number."*
At the time, it had seemed baffling, even suspicious. But now, in this absolute, isolated desperation, that invitation was like the only faint point of light in the darkness. *"Talk."* He desperately wanted to pour out this immense fear and pressure to someone, even if she was just a stranger he'd met once! He didn't need a solution, just an outlet, a temporary proof he wasn't completely alone, a connection. Or even… a test. A test to see who this mysterious Elena really was, whether her words held any real meaning.
"Hello?" Elena's voice came again, low and magnetic, tinged with the lazy huskiness of recent sleep, yet possessing a strange power to soothe agitation.
"Is… is this Ms. Elena?" Mason's voice was bone-dry, hoarse and nearly cracking. "I… I'm Mason Cooper. We met last night outside the restrooms at the 'Blue Soul Café'… I'm sorry, I…"
He stalled, unsure how to continue. Should he just blurt out *'A reporter is investigating me, I'm terrified'*?
Elena on the other end seemed fully awake now. Her voice held a trace of undetectable probing. "I remember you, Mason. You sound terrible. What's happened?" She didn't acknowledge the prior awkwardness, cutting straight to the core.
This direct concern became the final straw that broke the dam of Mason's defenses. His suppressed panic and fear of the unknown found their spillway. In a disjointed rush, he spilled everything about receiving the call from Tom Wells, emphasizing how precisely the man had named him and mentioned the "Time Gallery" incident, his tone thick with anxiety.
"…I don't know who he is, or how he found me… He said he wants an interview, but it feels wrong… I'm worried… Could there be trouble…" Mason's voice trembled with unease. It wasn't an act; it was his genuine emotion laid bare. He kept the core secret of his system and ability to himself, but the panic he revealed was real.
Elena listened quietly, without interruption. Only after Mason finished, falling into a brief silence punctuated by his ragged breathing, did her voice return. It was calm, almost cold, yet carried a convincing authority:
"Tom Wells…" she repeated the name softly, as if searching her memory. "A name… I have some recollection. A so-called 'independent investigator' who operates in the grey areas, specializing in dirty work—digging up dirt for clients, applying pressure." She paused, seemingly thinking quickly. "Him fixating on your 'Time Gallery' incident… Interesting. It seems you've inadvertently gotten in someone's way, or… been marked as a potential pawn."
It didn't sound like comfort, more like a cold analysis. Mason's heart sank.
But Elena's next words were unexpected. "However, a hyena like him doesn't randomly target an ordinary convenience store clerk. Unless… he's caught the scent of something special, or someone is paying him to do it." Her tone held a worldly, insightful detachment. "Mason, you might be more… 'valuable'… than you think."
"Valuable?" Mason was both bewildered and wary.
"Trouble always accompanies value." Elena's voice took on a faint, yet undeniable edge. "Last night, when you 'accidentally' tore my stockings, I saw you had a certain… trouble-attracting quality. But trouble also means opportunity. Now, tell me: do you merely want this hyena to go away for now, or… do you want to seize the chance to find out exactly who unleashed the dog, and what this suddenly apparent 'value' of yours actually is?"
It was a choice. Passive defense, or active probing.
Mason was stunned. Elena's reaction completely exceeded his expectations. She offered no pity, but presented an ultra-rational option. She wasn't interested in his plight, but in the potential "value" and the mystery behind it that his困境 might contain.
"I… I don't understand…" Mason spoke honestly. "I just want to live quietly."
"Sometimes, quiet must be fought for with strength." Elena's tone brooked no argument. "I can help you find out why this Tom Wells is after you, and who's behind him. In exchange, you will do one thing for me. A small thing. It might help verify a hypothesis of mine."
Risk intertwined with the unknown. Mason's heart pounded wildly.
"What thing?" he asked, his voice still rough.
"It's not time to tell you that yet." Elena refused outright. "You need to first prove you have the nerve for this… 'collaboration.' Step one, do as I say: Tom Wells will call you again. What you need to do is answer."
Mason drew a sharp breath.
Elena seemed to sense his fear. She continued, "Don't worry, I'm not asking you to confront him. You just need to tell him you can talk briefly. Listen to what he really wants to ask, feel him out. Remember, only answer what you know. Don't reveal any details about your current situation. Draw him out, ascertain his true purpose."
Her instructions were clear and cool, brimming with the confidence of one controlling the board.
"That's… too dangerous…" Fear gripped Mason.
"Sometimes, the most dangerous place is the safest. Hiding in the shadows, you never know where the rifle is aimed. Actively showing a slight flaw can反而 reveal the hunter's position." Elena's voice held a peculiar persuasiveness. "After that call, no matter what he says, stay calm, then call me immediately. I will decide the next step based on his reaction. Remember, Mason, you are not alone now."
*"Not alone…"* The words seemed magical, slightly dispersing the chill in Mason's heart.
"Go on. Do as I said. I'll wait for your call." With that, Elena hung up, giving him no time to hesitate.
Mason held the warming phone, unable to gather his thoughts for a long time. Elena wasn't a savior. She was a player who had spotted an interesting piece on the board. And he, in his desperation, had been forced onto that board as part of the game.
Fortune or misfortune? He didn't know. But he knew that constant evasion was no long-term strategy.