Heaven knows how long it had been. When Byrne opened his eyes again, he didn't know exactly when he had drifted off, but he was certain it was connected to the pill he had swallowed.
Just like Eddie in the movie, once the effects wore off, he was hit by a level of exhaustion he had never experienced before. Byrne struggled to sit up; his head felt as if it had been filled with lead, and his limbs were as heavy as if sandbags were tied to them.
What time is it?
Byrne rubbed his temples and turned to look at the wall clock. The hour hand was pointing at the eight.
Eight in the morning?
Good grief, he had slept straight through to the next day. This matched Eddie's experience in the film perfectly. He was exhausted—more tired than if he had worked several days of overtime in a row.
Although he didn't know when he had passed out, he saw that the pile of manuscripts on his desk had been completely organized under the drug's influence. Work that would usually take days to complete had been finished in a matter of hours.
He propped himself up against the desk and stood, heading toward the bathroom. Due to the "crash" from the drug, his footsteps were unsteady; he looked like a frail old man with failing legs.
At the sink, Byrne splashed ice-cold tap water onto his face, barely suppressing the grogginess. He looked into the mirror. The face reflecting back had sunken eye sockets, heavy dark circles, and hair as messy as a bird's nest. He looked like a vengeful spirit that had just crawled out of hell.
"The side effects of NZT-48 are really something... but..."
Even as he rubbed his tight temples, he couldn't help but recall the state he was in the night before. That feeling of being a hundred times more energetic, of his mind overclocking—it was far too addictive.
Thinking of this, he immediately pulled out his wallet and fished Vernon's business card from the inner pocket. It was time to give him a call.
Byrne took out his phone and dialed the number.
"Hello, who is this?"
"Mr. Vernon, I'm Byrne Claud, a friend of Eddie Morra. He gave me that pill at the bar yesterday. I tried it, and it felt amazing. I'd like to buy some more."
Silence fell on the other end of the line.
"Uh, Mr. Vernon? Are you there?"
"I'm here. Fine. Since you want to buy, come to my apartment." Vernon rattled off an address and hurriedly hung up.
Half an hour later, Byrne drove to an apartment building in Queens. He reached the seventh floor and knocked on the door marked 7B.
"Who is it?"
"Mr. Vernon, open up. It's me, Byrne Claud."
"Heh, it's you. Honestly, you couldn't have picked a worse time."
Byrne froze outside the door, the words sounding familiar. After a moment, he realized—this was the exact dialogue from the movie. Only, Vernon was speaking to him instead of Eddie.
A moment later, the door opened. Vernon glanced behind Byrne, scanned Byrne himself, and stepped back. "Come in."
Once inside, Byrne scanned the room. The layout and decor were identical to the film. Not just the room—even the bruises on Vernon's face were exactly the same.
"Uh, Mr. Vernon, what happened to your face?"
Vernon clearly didn't want to discuss his injuries. He brushed it off with a vague, "Nothing. Don't ask too many questions."
He sat in a chair, picked up a glass of water, and said, "Coming to find me so soon... I take it you're satisfied with the results?"
Byrne nodded. "Yes. I want more."
Vernon set the glass down and turned to him. "If you're so interested, aren't you curious where it comes from?"
Heh, I already know.
Of course, Byrne only thought that. Out loud, he said, "Knowing too much isn't always a good thing. I'm more concerned with how much I can buy than where it came from."
Byrne knew that Vernon was about to tell some half-truths—wanting to show off while being afraid of leaking too much. In the original film, this contradiction was Vernon's fatal flaw and one of the reasons he was killed.
Hearing Byrne's response, Vernon smiled. "You're smarter than Eddie. No wonder it's you here instead of him. But let's be clear: I have more, but the price isn't cheap."
Byrne smiled and patted his pocket. "Of course. Eddie told me—eight hundred a pill. I brought enough today to buy quite a lot."
Vernon nodded. "Alright. But before we trade, I have a favor to ask." He stood up, walked to the TV stand, and tossed a key to Byrne. "Look at me—I'm in no state to go out. Do me a favor: pick up my clothes from the dry cleaner and grab some breakfast on your way back. Thanks."
Byrne caught the key and smiled. "No problem."
From the moment he entered, Byrne realized he was living through the movie's plot. Knowing what happened next, he was well aware that before long, someone would break in and take Vernon's life. Even if Vernon hadn't asked, Byrne would have found another excuse to leave the apartment temporarily.
Knowing Vernon was about to die, Byrne didn't go to the cleaners or the fast-food joint. He found a nearby cafe and killed time over a cup of coffee. Once finished, he checked his watch. Judging that enough time had passed, he returned to the apartment.
Just like in the movie, the door was slightly ajar.
Byrne didn't enter immediately. He stood outside, listening intently. Once he was sure there was no sound from within, he pushed the door open.
The room was a disaster. Everything had been tossed around. Vernon was sitting on the sofa in his pajamas, his head hanging limply. On the left side of his forehead was a bloody bullet hole.
Even though Byrne was mentally prepared, seeing a person he had just spoken to dead in front of him made his skin crawl. He suppressed the urge to vomit and quickly scanned the living room. The overturned coffee table, scattered books, blood on the carpet... it was exactly like the movie.
It seemed the intruder had killed Vernon, trashed the place, and left without finding the hidden pills.
Now it was his turn.
If he remembered correctly, the pills were hidden right... there.
Byrne gave a small smirk and headed into the kitchen. He reached into a hidden compartment at the very bottom of the oven and pulled out a foil-wrapped bundle. Opening it, he found three items: a black address book, several thousand dollars in cash, and a bag containing hundreds of NZT-48 pills.
Heh, finally got them.
Byrne wrapped the items up and tucked them into his inner pocket. Returning to the living room, he glanced at Vernon's body, ready to leave.
But in the next second, a bizarre scene unfolded.
Vernon's corpse vanished right before Byrne's eyes.