Chapter 130: Not a Supreme VIP, nor a VIP, just a P.
Facing his uncle's frequent coded urgings on the screen, young Sheldon looked at the people around him. Feeling deeply depressed and confused, he opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"Check this person."
Chuck pointed at a man in his thirties on the screen.
"Yes."
Jane's supervisor, who had already helped the technical department complete the access, agreed and gave instructions to the subordinates on the other end of his earpiece.
The results came back quickly.
The other party was the son of a New York judge.
"Check the judge's cases, and prioritize the most recent ones."
Susan's eyes lit up.
This was clearly bribery.
Indeed.
Not only could this be used to pressure the elderly accountant and further force him to cooperate, but it could also open up another case, because most of these bribes were not reported for taxes!
On the screen, the gambling game in the VIP room continued.
Without young Sheldon's support, the uncle immediately lost his initial advantage. He suffered repeated losses, his chips visibly dwindling, and his face began to darken. It was clear he was losing his composure and his temper.
The elderly accountant glanced at him with surprise.
He had previously thought he'd encountered a skilled player, a professional gambler, which had caused a setback in his own assignment.
But who would have guessed that he was, after all, just a gambler, not a heartless card-counting machine.
He took complete control of the game and began quietly directing the chips toward the judge's son.
A smile gradually crept onto the son's face.
In the monitoring room, Susan, observing this scene and listening to Jane's supervisor's report on the judge's cases, discovered that they were indeed connected to the New York Gambino family and, judging by the results, had mostly ruled in the Gambino family's favor. She also smiled.
Jane frowned at this and couldn't help but glance at Chuck, but seeing Chuck remained calm, she could only suppress her concerns and continue watching.
"Damn Sheldon!"
In the VIP room, young Sheldon's uncle, having quickly lost everything, could no longer contain himself and cursed out loud.
Seeing everyone's gazes on him, he showed no fear of being exposed. His face was grim. "What's wrong? It's a saying in our area: Sheldon is the lucky charm. We always make offerings to him before gambling."
"Apparently, Sheldon only blessed you for the first half."
The others in the game had also lost their money. Someone shrugged jokingly and walked away. Everyone else left the room.
The elderly accountant, with his back to the New York judge's son, nodded slightly and followed the crowd.
Only the dealer, the New York judge's son who was collecting a large number of chips, and young Sheldon's uncle, who was distraught and envious, remained.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
It was young Sheldon who had returned to the headset.
"Can you do it?"
Young Sheldon's uncle turned his back and whispered quietly.
"Of course I can."
By then, Chuck and the others had left the monitoring room. Faced with such a challenge, young Sheldon had only one answer.
Young Sheldon's uncle was overjoyed. He said to the New York judge's son, who was collecting his chips, "Shall we continue?"
"Continue?"
The New York judge's son glanced at him, realizing he was a gambler desperately chasing his losses. He was rekindling his delusions of "I can still turn this around!" He shook his head and said, "You're out of chips, why are you still playing?"
"I have chips!"
Young Sheldon's uncle said anxiously.
"Oh?"
The New York judge's son finished collecting his chips, asked the dealer to exchange them for larger denominations, and prepared to leave, casually responding.
He didn't think a gambler who had lost everything would still have anything valuable.
Young Sheldon's uncle raised a finger to signal him to wait, then ran to the side to get a pen and paper. With his back to the surveillance camera, he quickly wrote a few words, then walked over to the New York judge's son and showed him the paper.
"Are you serious?"
The New York judge's son looked surprised and puzzled.
"I'm absolutely serious!"
Young Sheldon's uncle, sensing a chance of a comeback, was of course serious.
"Are you sure you can deliver?"
The New York judge's son was skeptical.
"I'm sure!"
Young Sheldon's uncle nodded solemnly.
The New York judge's son looked at him for a moment, then smirked and nodded with amusement. "Alright, I'll trust you just this once. I don't believe you'd dare to lie to me."
He then pulled out a $10,000 chip and handed it to Sheldon's uncle. Then, he took the note from the uncle's hand, a warning in his eyes.
"I'm a professional player."
The uncle's heart sank, but he said confidently, "Winning or losing doesn't matter. I can handle anything."
"Okay, let's play."
The New York judge's son didn't rush to leave. He sat down again and signaled the dealer to start over.
Half an hour later,
Sheldon's uncle stood there in a daze, his chips gone again.
"Remember to deliver!"
The New York judge's son gathered his chips, walked over, patted the uncle's shoulder condescendingly, and then left with a smile.
"Uncle, what were your chips?"
Sheldon's puzzled voice came through the headset.
This voice instantly triggered young Sheldon's uncle. He jumped up and ran out. He ran all the way to the monitoring room, pushed open the door, and yelled at his nephew inside: "What are you doing? What have you done?"
"Uncle."
Young Sheldon was frightened by his uncle's furious face and was about to cry.
"Didn't you say you were brilliant?"
The uncle was furious. He grabbed his nephew's arm and shook him, saying: "Didn't you say you were no worse than your classmate Chuck Wolfe? Why did he become a Supreme VIP, while I'm no longer a Supreme VIP because of you. I'm not even a VIP—I'm just a pathetic P now!"
"I didn't want this to happen, sob."
Young Sheldon had almost lost control of his bladder after Chuck and the others kicked in the door and surrounded him. He had finally waited for Chuck and the others to leave, and now he was being yelled at by his uncle like this. How could he bear it? A flood of negative emotions such as grievance, dissatisfaction, and fear hit his heart and he burst into tears.
This collective breakdown immediately sobered the uncle, who was already losing his mind. As someone experienced in gambling, this wasn't his first time facing such a situation, so he quickly calmed down. He realized the pride of the Cooper family was still a child, and with a twitching mouth, he began to soothe him.
"You were fine before. What were you doing during that time? Why didn't you respond to me?"
After a brief moment of comfort, the uncle couldn't help but conduct a professional review.
Post-game analysis is a fundamental skill for any serious gambler.
"It's all Chuck Wolfe's fault!"
Upon hearing the review and identifying the culprit, young Sheldon immediately named the person he blamed.
It was him! It was him! It was him!
"What does this have to do with him?"
Young Sheldon's uncle was astonished. After hearing what young Sheldon had to say, he was stunned. The IRS and the FBI. He couldn't help but wince, and felt himself grow calmer.
It seemed his genius nephew really couldn't be blamed.
It was simply bad luck.
"Uncle, what did you bet later?"
Young Sheldon wiped his tears, not forgetting his doubts.
"Nothing, just a promissory note."
The uncle's face turned pale as he covered his face.
Sigh.
There was no other way.
He could only make his wife suffer.
He had to accept this loss.
But he was confident that he would win in the future, and when he did, he would impress his father-in-law and give his wife a good life.
"Sheldon, don't tell anyone about this,"
the uncle began to instruct, "or we'll be laughed at."
Following his uncle's gaze, young Sheldon looked down, and immediately his mouth twitched, his eyes spasmed, and he dragged his voice and gritted his teeth and shouted, "Chuck Wolfe!!!"
The voice was sharp, soaring into the air, echoing throughout the entire casino, wave after wave.
Over there.
Chuck and the others saw the elderly accountant leave, and they ignored the subsequent betting and left immediately, looking for him again.
"Mr. Stolberg, we meet again,"
Susan said with a smile.
"What do you want?"
the elderly accountant said with a scowl.
"Thank you for providing evidence linking the Gambino family to the New York judge,"
Susan whispered.
"Shameless!"
the elderly accountant's eyes narrowed, and he cursed out loud. "This is simply trampling on the Constitution!"
"She's been very restrained,"
Chuck said calmly. "If it were anyone else, they would have sent someone disguised as a rival gang to attempt an assassination. After their clumsy assassination attempt failed, you, having 'escaped by chance,' would have had no choice but to seek asylum in witness protection."
"..."
The elderly accountant's mouth twitched, speechless.
If they really used this trick, driven by his will to survive, he might indeed seek asylum in the authorities' witness protection program.
Such a devious strategy, spoken so casually by this young colleague, seemed even more eerie and terrifying.
Susan also glanced at Chuck with a strange look.
Okay.
Compared to Chuck, she seemed the pure and kindhearted one.
He was indeed a strange creature with a calm face and a dark mind.
Chuck ignored all the looks, not even thinking, simply citing examples of the "unconventional tactics" he had witnessed in his years of working with law enforcement.
Sometimes, the boundless imagination of a highly intelligent mind offers advantages that reality can't match.
But this isn't always the case.
Ultimately, highly intelligent thinking is limited by logic, while reality, when it turns surreal, often defies logic and allows for all sorts of fantastical possibilities.
This is the result of the unpredictable nature of human behavior. Even Chuck, now, can't fully comprehend everything. Sometimes, when he encounters the most bizarre and fantastical realities, he's genuinely surprised, though his expression remains impassive.
"Mr. Stolberg?"
Susan averted her gaze from Chuck, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"..."
The elderly accountant's expression shifted, and finally, he gritted his teeth and said bitterly, "I'm willing to gamble on loyalty and trust!"
With that, he walked away.
(End of Chapter)
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