Chapter 127: The Smile Gradually Faded. Oh No, I'm the Punchline.
Susan, seeing Jane's expression, immediately understood what was happening. A playful curve appeared at the corner of her mouth, and she stepped forward confidently. "I'm a friend of Chuck's. His stepfather introduced us."
"He's not my stepfather."
Chuck shook his head.
"My aunt introduced me."
Jane's expression was somewhat strained.
"Really?"
Susan looked at Jane with amusement.
"..."
Jane didn't like Susan's expression and tone, and didn't want to engage with her. She just looked at Chuck. "Chuck, why are you here, and with her?"
At this point, she couldn't hold back any longer and asked pointedly, "Is she also a test subject? Experiment 777?"
"She didn't volunteer to participate."
Chuck said matter-of-factly, "777 concluded. Now if there's any arrangement, it will be 888."
"..."
Jane's face fell. This didn't comfort her at all.
The 77th experiment with the 7th participant had finally been interrupted by that Monica person. In such a short time, it was being repeated 111 times...
"Dr. Wolfe."
Jane's supervisor noticed the tension and asked tentatively: "Why are you here this time?"
"I'm a consultant for the IRS."
Chuck said: "She is Agent Susan Greene, Criminal Investigator for the IRS. We are handling this case."
"I'm in charge of this case."
Susan corrected with irritation.
"Hello, Agent Greene. I'm David Larsen from the FBI's Las Vegas field office."
Jane's supervisor thought, as expected, and enthusiastically extended his hand to Susan. "This is my colleague, Jane Banner. We'll be working with you on this operation."
"Hello, Agent Larsen."
Susan shook his hand, then extended her hand to the stunned Jane, a half-smile on her face. "Hello, Agent Banner."
"Hello."
Jane, realizing that Susan was the IRS Criminal Investigator her supervisor had been discussing, guessed that Chuck and Susan were just professional colleagues, similar to her own relationship with Chuck, and perked up, instinctively straightening her posture.
They were actually about the same height, though Susan's strategic wearing of high heels made her appear taller, but Jane had other advantages.
"It's time to meet the target,"
Chuck reminded them. "If you want to discuss anything else, there's plenty of time later."
"Let's go."
Susan, seeing that Jane was rather naive and couldn't handle teasing well, was just beginning to enjoy herself when she heard Chuck's voice and lost interest in the game.
This reminded her of a few days ago when Chuck kept throwing her off balance. Back then, she seemed just as confused and flustered as Jane was now.
"Where are we going?"
Jane's supervisor tried to ease the tension.
"The Deborah Vance Show!"
Susan explained quietly as they walked.
"The Vance Show?"
Jane's supervisor instinctively commented, "How old is our target? Seventy or eighty?"
Las Vegas, as a world-class gambling destination and tourist city, not only boasts major casinos, luxurious hotels, and the convenience of quick marriages to attract visitors, but also a variety of entertainment shows.
Magic shows, burlesque shows, adult entertainment, and other performances fill the city with spectacle and excess.
Among them are famous stand-up comedy venues.
This was a very famous comedy stage, bringing together outstanding stand-up comedians from around the world.
Deborah Vance was one of them, a permanent fixture here for decades, and the city's leading comedy personality.
But decades had passed, and now she was an elderly woman struggling to keep up with the times. Most of the people willing to attend were equally aging fans from the past, and their numbers were dwindling.
Jane's supervisor, an FBI agent stationed in Las Vegas, was naturally familiar with this famous figure, which was why he was surprised that someone still followed her.
"73,"
Chuck said.
Not everyone rose to fame in their industry before age twenty like Chuck. The target was in his thirties when he first became prominent, and had been managing the Gambino family's books for over forty years. He was now 73.
"Ah,"
Jane's supervisor grimaced.
Well, they were looking for an elderly man.
That wasn't surprising.
Deborah Vance had been a staple of the Las Vegas comedy scene, so she must have been incredibly successful back then. Having a 73-year-old fan was perfectly normal.
The four of them arrived at the venue.
Chuck and his team timed their arrival to ensure the target was engaged, so they arrived near the end of the show.
On the stage, a spotlight illuminated an elderly woman, impeccably dressed. She held a microphone, effortlessly delivering her stand-up routine.
"You know, I have a friend, Helena. I'm not sure how to define her, nor can I use 'it,' so I'll just use 'they.'"
Anyway, Helena told me the secret code to wealth. Do you want to know how to become a world-class romance novelist?
Don't know?
Well, you're in luck. Listen up! I'll tell you now.
Start by describing a few European cities, using euphemisms to describe the indescribable, and then, boom! You've written a bestseller!"
The audience erupted in knowing laughter.
Americans have complex feelings toward Europeans. Normally, they look down on them—after all, the United States is the wealthiest and most powerful country in the world. However, due to their relatively recent cultural heritage, they subconsciously yearn for European sophistication.
In their perception, Europeans are the most libertine.
So when Deborah Vance mentioned writing romance novels and choosing Europe as the setting, it immediately resonated.
"Don't laugh!"
As a comedian, Deborah Vance loved the audience's genuine laughter, and her energy soared: "This is what their ex-wife, a world-class romance novelist, told them. It's the true secret to wealth. Write it down!"
Another round of laughter erupted.
"Is this a washed-up stand-up comedian?"
Jane stifled a laugh, amazed. "I think she's hilarious and brilliant."
Jane's supervisor was somewhat embarrassed, puzzled. He'd seen Deborah Vance's stand-up show before, and it wasn't nearly as funny.
"Because a friend provided excellent material,"
Chuck observed.
"I know, I know,"
Deborah Vance waved her hand from the stage. "Who wouldn't want a spouse who's also a world-class romance novelist and stunningly beautiful? It's just a shame that no matter how beautiful a spouse is, they can never compare to the family butler. After all, he's a professional 'service' provider."
The audience erupted in laughter again.
"Where did this imaginary friend come from?"
Jane shook her head in disbelief. "No way this is real."
She thought it was a bizarre story invented by a comedian.
"It's real,"
Chuck said.
"Really?"
Jane exclaimed in surprise.
"I have a friend like that."
Chuck nodded.
"I know some people don't believe a mere butler could be so charming."
On stage, Deborah Vance spoke with practiced ease. "But there's one person who can prove my point, and with absolute certainty: this beautiful ex-spouse. They also wanted this butler, on Thanksgiving Day, thank God."
The audience erupted in laughter again.
"Ha!"
Jane couldn't contain herself any longer and burst out laughing. She looked at Chuck and said, "Did your friend have a similar experience?"
"Yes."
Chuck nodded calmly.
"How is that possible?"
Jane exclaimed in disbelief.
Such an incredible story—how could there be another one exactly like it?
"Because the friend she's talking about is my friend's parent."
Chuck looked at her and thought of Chandler, the perpetual jokester.
That's right!
He had long since recognized that the story on stage was the bizarre saga of Chandler's parents.
"..."
Jane was stunned.
Could it really be such a coincidence?
"Alas,"
Deborah Vance feigned a sigh on stage. "The only person my friend Helena feels sorry for is their child. If possible, they'd like to completely erase the shadow they and their ex-spouse have cast on their child. But childhood trauma is hard to erase, just like the prejudice people hold against people like them. They prayed every day, and finally one day, watching TV, they had an inspiration. They didn't need to pray to God; they just needed to do one thing, and it would be perfect. They should run for office and become a politician. That way, they could lie, cheat, steal, and do anything to manipulate public perception, and then all their worries and regrets would disappear."
Laughter erupted from the audience again.
This mockery of political corruption was almost as reliable as classic bathroom humor.
This was the last refuge of the American working class, powerless to change the status quo.
"I can't change it, so why shouldn't I be allowed to laugh at it?"
"Your friend is this child?"
Jane said with sympathy.
What psychological trauma that must have caused.
"Let's pray for their success, because whoever takes office can't do worse than the current administration."
On stage, Deborah Vance delivered her final joke, stood up, raised her hands, and delivered her signature closing line: "Good night, Las Vegas!"
To the audience's enthusiastic applause, she exited and headed backstage.
"Time to get down to business!"
Susan alerted the group, looking toward a bald, elderly man in the front row who had been laughing heartily throughout the show. "Agent Larsen, you'll take Agent Banner to detain the target's bodyguard and escort him away. We'll speak with the target privately."
"Understood,"
Jane's supervisor agreed without question.
"FBI!"
Jane's supervisor led Jane to the bald man and showed his credentials to the large, intimidating man beside him. "Sir, come with us."
The bodyguard frowned at the bald man.
The bald man nodded.
Following her supervisor's lead, Jane confiscated the bodyguard's weapon and left with him.
Susan and Chuck approached the bald elderly man and presented their credentials. "Agent Susan Greene, IRS Criminal Investigator. This is Dr. Chuck Wolfe, an IRS consultant. Mr. Francis Stolberg, we need to talk."
This scene caught the bodyguard's attention, and before he could observe further, he was led away by Jane and the others.
"Dr. Wolfe,"
the bald elderly man adjusted his glasses and looked at Chuck with surprise. After a moment's examination, he exclaimed, "You are indeed a young man with a remarkable future."
(End of Chapter)
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