Reborn: The Rookie Detective

Christian Wolff nodded. "That's one of the reasons. I want my partner to be a perceptive person; people like that usually live longer."

"And I'm not good at socializing. Your girlfriends include a police captain, an FBI agent in training, a psychologist, and even a hacker. I need a partner like you who is good at socializing."

"No, no, no, that hacker is just a friend of mine, not the kind of relationship you're thinking of."

Jack quickly denied it.

"Just like you and your friend."

The accountant's eyes instantly turned dangerous, as if his sore spot had been touched.

"Don't push me. Let me finish."

Jack didn't mind sparring with him to test his fighting skills, but this guy was a super autistic patient who had avoided even his own younger brother for years. If he made a scene in this small office, he would definitely disappear without a trace.

Abby Sciuto had only helped him look up the address of this accounting firm; she wasn't as magical as he had made her out to be in front of the accountant.

In Christian Wolff's mind, this mysterious LAPD officer had a powerful hacker friend, but in reality, Jack's understanding of him came entirely from a movie he'd watched twice in his previous life.

He wasn't usually a careful viewer of movies, but two key plot points from this film stuck with him: first, the story took place in Chicago; second, the IRS discovered during its investigation of the accountant that he had named his accounting firm with three Zs to avoid being easily found in the Yellow Pages.

"Since you investigated my background, I'll investigate yours. Isn't that fair? Just as you want me to be your partner, so do I. I just don't want to be manipulated like some IRS official, completely clueless."

Seeing the accountant still tense, looking ready to pounce at any moment, Jack sighed. He had indeed been a bit too cocky with his slip of the tongue. Even with ordinary people, it's best to avoid revealing too much too soon, let alone with someone as highly sensitive as this.

But the words were already out, and he could only try to salvage the situation. He hoped the bait he was offering would be enticing enough. This was his first contact with someone from the gray area, and if he messed it up, who knew when the next opportunity would come?

"The causes of Asperger's Syndrome are very complex, but it's not untreatable. You've probably been undergoing desensitization training, haven't you?" Jack said, pointing to the coins on the table.

"That was just a small test. I don't know about your childhood experiences, but I imagine your family must have sacrificed a lot to enable you to communicate so normally with ordinary people."

Christian Wolff was expressionless, his slightly lowered head preventing Jack from meeting his gaze, yet a somber atmosphere seemed to permeate the room.

"What are you trying to say?"

His tone was flat, but it reassured Jack. Not attacking was the best response, so he quickly continued his charade.

"I have some method that might be able to help you and your friend. Of course, a complete cure is impossible and unnecessary; that's where your talent comes from. But I'm confident I can alleviate some of the negative symptoms."

"From the phone call, I can tell that your friend can no longer communicate normally and has to use artificial speech synthesis, right?"

"A method from a police officer, it's not funny."

Actually, it was because Jack had a system. He silently grumbled to himself, 'I can't possibly explain you about my system, right?'

"I don't a normal police officer can find you in less than a day after the phone call, right?"

Jack dared to talk like this not without reason. Although the causes of Asperger's Syndrome are very complex and not simply caused by a physiological lesion, he still had the psychology skills given by the system.

In the original series, the step father in the IRS was able to rise rapidly within the department based on the accountant's information. For Jack, that meant a lot of experience and system coins. Even if the healing skills didn't work, he could just spend a lot of coins to level up his psychology skills; it wouldn't be a loss.

A long silence followed. Just as Jack began to feel uneasy, an old-fashioned telephone on the accountant's desk rang.

Christian Wolff picked up the receiver without speaking, but Jack's keen hearing allowed him to clearly hear the synthesized female voice.

"Trust him. There's an old cop named Rick Hunter who suffered a severe stroke that left him partially paralyzed. After contacting him, he almost completely recovered within three months."

Christian Wolff was clearly not a skilled negotiator, stating his terms directly.

"Fifty million dollars, just enough to get my friend to leave his house and see the outside world."

Jack waved his hands repeatedly. "I'm not here to extort you, although I know you're very wealthy."

He wasn't one of those risk taking officials from his previous life; what difference was there between having a wall of money at home that he couldn't afford to spend and worthless paper?

"However, if possible, I'd like you to help me set up a small trading company to import some beauty products from Japan and then sell them."

Jack remembered that in the original story, the accountant laundered his gray income through a bunch of small retail stores. Doing some small business through these channels shouldn't be a problem, giving him a legitimate source of extra income. And if there were any unexpected windfalls later, he could cash them out through this channel.

Sudden wealth isn't always a good thing. Besides attracting attention, who's ever seen a multi-millionaire working as a patrolman on the street?

The accountant nodded: "I can register an import/export company in your name and handle all the paperwork. Do you have any requirements regarding profit margins?"

Jack shook his head. He'd worked in this industry in his previous life, mainly exporting, so he was very familiar with it.

"Just make me a partner. I'll give you a list of imported goods. Profitability shouldn't be a problem. You'll just need to find a professional manager familiar with customs clearance procedures. I won't be involved in the day-to-day operations. My future target is probably federal agencies like the FBI, so my background must be absolutely clean. This will be beneficial for our long-term cooperation."

The accountant indicated he understood: "I'll guarantee you at least $100,000 in dividends annually. Neither the IRS nor the FBI can find fault with that."

Jack appreciated the accountant's understanding. Now it was his turn to show his sincerity.