"Where are we going?" Wesley asked.
"To get some things," Carlos said, walking ahead with Wesley. "The situation is very dangerous right now. We have to get out of here quickly."
"Al alright," Wesley said, a little confused. "But isn't this the way to my place"? That trolley track up ahead, isn't that where I live?"
"Yes," Carlos looked at the familiar building across the street, stopped, turned right, took out a key, opened the door to the building, and walked inside with Wesley.
"That's where you live. This is where I live."
Wesley's eyes widened.
He had never imagined that his father, Carlos, had been living right across the street from him all these years,
just a trolley track away!
"Don't worry about it," Carlos placed Wesley on the living room sofa, then took a few chocolate bars out of the fridge and handed them to him.
"Eat something first."
As Wesley ravenously devoured the chocolates, Carlos went and heated up a few slices of pizza in the
microwave.
He knew Wesley's current state well and how to handle it.
Entering the assassin bloodline state three times while starving, and with such emotional swings and
information overload.
Frankly, the fact that Wesley still had the energy to eat
was already surprising to Carlos.
Even he couldn't have performed better than Wesley in such a situation.
And Carlos also knew exactly what Wesley needed to get better"food and caloric intake. That was it.
For a while, the only sound in the room was Wesley loudly chewing.
Carlos stood by, not knowing where to put his hands.
Although the plan had been executed perfectly as intended, this part" Morin hadn't given him a detailed
script for this part.
If it were a scene where they first exchanged a bullet in mid-air and then Carlos "killed" Morin with a shot, Carlos could have performed that action scene without any preparation.
But when it came to a dramatic scene
Carlos's head started to ache.
What expression should he have? What tone of voice?
What should he say?
"Is that" Wesley suddenly stopped eating and looked in one direction.
"Are those pictures?"
Carlos followed Wesley's gaze and saw some photos on a table.
"Yes," Carlos walked over and picked up the photos.
"These some of them I got from your school, and some were sent to me by people I asked. This one, of you on a motorcycle, and this one, in a suit"
There weren't many photos, but for each one, Carlos could tell a story about where it came from and when he got it.
Wesley listened as he ate, and the long-dormant memories in his mind, which had been devoid of any valuable recollections, began to take on a little color.
Slowly, he began to choke up.
"I'm so sorry," Carlos started to get flustered.
"No, it's okay," Wesley wiped his eyes.
"I just" never thought anyone was watching out for me."
"I'm so sorry"" Carlos didn't know what else to say.
"I understand what you were thinking, and I know why you were always around but never met me," Wesley choked out.
"But I'm sick of this life, this stagnant life."
"Your mother, I promised her, and I also didn't want you to enter this dangerous world," Carlos took a deep breath.
"But now things are just unpredictable"
"If it weren't for that man kidnapping me, you would have probably just let me continue living this way, right?" Wesley asked.
"My previous thinking was a little naive. I thought this was how I could protect you," Carlos said.
"But I overlooked the fact that they have completely lost their bottom line."
"Who are they?"
Wesley decided to stop dwelling on the fact that Carlos hadn't met him all these years and focused on the present.
Because he knew that Carlos's intentions were good, and that he himself was largely responsible for his current situation.
Of course, this was because of the information that Morin, in his role as the enemy, had 'leaked" to Wesley, which led to Wesley's thinking.
Without that groundwork, Wesley would never have had such thoughts. No matter what Carlos said, Wesley wouldn't have listened, and his resentment toward Carlos would have been a major part of his feelings.
But now, because Morin, as the enemy, had already created an image of a father who "had to remain hidden and not see his child to protect him."
And Carlos showing up and having a gunfight with Morin, "risking his life" to save him, was another shot in the arm for Wesley. So, naturally, Wesley couldn't resent Carlos.
"They" Carlos let out a sigh of relief. They had finally reached the part of the plan Morin had arranged for him.
"They used to be assassins, assassins of the Fraternity of Assassins, just like me. But now, they are killers. My enemies."
"Assassins" killers""
Wesley mulled over the two words. The massive intake
of food was now providing a steady stream of heat to his body, and his physical state was gradually recovering. "Is there a difference?"
Just as Wesley's voice fell, a rhythmic knock sounded at the door.
"Bang, bang bang, bang!"
"Who is it?" Wesley instinctively lowered his voice, a
little startled, but then calmed down when he saw Carlos's motionless figure.
"Don't worry, it's one of us," Carlos naturally knew who it was and walked slowly over.
"He is my current companion, and the one who gave me another choice."
Carlos opened the door and ushered in Morin, who had already changed his clothes and his face.
"I got your call and rushed over right away," Morin asked earnestly.
"Did you manage to save your son?"
"Yes, he's safe," Carlos pointed to Wesley, who was watching them from the living room.
"That's my son Wesley."
"Hello, Wesley Gibson. It's nice to meet you."
Morin looked at Wesley and smiled, nodding.
It was as if the incident where he held a gun to Wesley's head and even fired a shot near his ear had never happened.
Although Morin had never been an actor, his acting skills could definitely be considered top-notch!
For him, doing something like holding a gun to someone's head one moment and then, after changing his face and clothes, smiling and greeting them the next, was nothing at all!
Just an actor's self-cultivation!
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