A week is not long or short.
For ordinary people, it is just seven ordinary days and nights. But for Chu Hang, these seven days are a critical period for him to transform from a ghost of an era to a newborn baby of a new era. He barely wastes a minute or a second.
He found a hotel that didn't require an ID card and spent $1,000 to book a room for a week.
During the day, he was like a dry sponge thrown into the sea, Greed absorbing everything of this era. The municipal library became his second home. From the post-Cold War world structure, emerging economic theories to the ascendant computer science, he immersed himself in the sea of books, desperately trying to fill the long Fifty years of knowledge gap. He even held a few banknotes and walked into an Internet cafe, which was still a new thing at the time. Amidst the maddeningly slow "cat" meows and dial-up tones, he witnessed the prototype of the Internet for the first time - the huge wave that was about to sweep the world started from such crude and crude web pages.
When night falls, the hotel room becomes his dojo. He no longer needs to use high-intensity physical training to squeeze every ounce of his body's potential like he did during World War II. Super-Soldier Serum has already tempered his body to the peak of human beings. What he has to do now is deeper homework: Control.
Control is the new power that combines Cosmic Cube, Healing Factor and Super-Soldier Serum.
He closed his eyes and his consciousness slowly sank into his body. The power was no longer as violent and disorderly as when he first woke up. Instead, it was like a deep and quiet sea of stars, slowly flowing through his blood. He no longer tried to command it, but learned to To guide it. He used his "Super Will" that was extremely tough and toughened by ice and time, like a patient shepherd, gently combing through those energy particles that were once unruly.
The progress is obvious. From the beginning, he could only make a coin tremble slightly at his fingertips, to later he could make all the objects in the room, from the bed to the desk lamp, float silently in the air; from being able to make only a fragile toothpick bend slightly, to being able to twist a hard steel spoon into a ball like a twist. His control, almost measured in days, has made a qualitative leap.
He gradually figured out that the essence of this power seemed to be interference with space itself. At a small level, it could distort light and make oneself disappear visually; at a large level, it could even compress space and achieve short-distance "flickering" jumps. Theoretically, these are not impossible. But this requires extremely terrifying With the support of computing power and mental strength, at his current level, the most he can do is to make a flying bullet make a small turn, or allow himself to complete a rapid jump within three to five meters. Every such attempt will bring about a huge mental fatigue, as if Soul Law has been drained of time.
This became his deepest trump card, a trump card that could turn the tide in a life-or-death situation, but one that could never be easily revealed to others.
At midnight a week later, he followed his memory and came to the studio of Elias again.
It's still the old bookstore with the wind chimes hanging, passing through the narrow aisle between the bookshelves, and the thick iron door leading to another world.
Elias looked much more tired than last time, with sunken eye sockets, as if he hadn't slept for days and nights. But his eyes were extremely bright, shining with an almost fanatical light, as if an artist who had just completed a masterpiece was examining his own hard work. Without any extra greetings, he directly pushed a thick kraft paper file bag from the end of the table to Chu Hang.
"Your new life." His voice was hoarse, but filled with pride.
Chu Hang opened the metal buckle of the document bag, took out the contents one by one, and looked at them carefully.
A brand new social security card, the name on it is "Anthony·Chen", the number is clear, and both the hardness of the material and the anti-counterfeiting patterns on it are the same as the original.
A birth certificate that looks quite old. The paper is slightly yellowed and has a unique smell of old paper. The printed fonts and doctor's signatures on it perfectly reproduce the unique marks of that era. The document records that Anthony Chen was born in a public hospital in San Francisco in 1973. His parents were Chinese immigrants who died in an accident early in his life. An orphan with a clean and impeccable background.
A California driver's license. The photo above was taken by Chu Hang here a few days ago. The expression is natural, the eyes are calm, and the background is standard light blue.
In addition, there are several credit cards and debit cards from different banks, accompanied by a forged and decent bank credit report, which shows that "Anthony·Chen" has maintained a good repayment record and excellent credit score in the past few years.
Elias even thoughtfully forged a community college diploma for him, majoring in business management.
Everything was so perfect that it was staggering. This man used his miraculous skills to create a living person out of thin air, and weaved a twenty-two-year life history for him. From this moment on, Chu Hang disappeared, replaced by Anthony Chen.
"The rest of the money." Chu Hang placed a backpack containing fifty thousand dollars in cash on the table.
Elias didn't even check it, he just nodded casually and put the backpack under the table. He poured himself a glass of amber whiskey and pushed a glass over to Chu Hang.
"This is the most perfect 'work' I've ever done." Elias took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple rolling, and said hoarsely, "I used some old relationships that I haven't touched for many years to implant a real person for you who actually existed but has long been official. Canceled orphan file. From a system level, you, Anthony·Chen, have been real from the moment you were born. Even if Federal Bureau of Investigation turns your file upside down, no flaws can be found."
"Thank you." Chu Hang picked up the wine glass. The ice cubes collided with the wall of the glass and made a crisp sound, but he did not drink.
"The last piece of advice." Elias stared at him, his eyes becoming a little complicated, with both appreciation and a hint of pity. "Anthony, the set of things in your hand is a ticket to upper class society and an invitation to hell. It can make you have everything, or it can make you shattered into pieces in an inadvertent moment. How to use it depends on you. I wish you good luck."
Chu Hang nodded, put down the wine glass, picked up the document bag containing his new life, turned around and left the dim studio.
He didn't look back.
Early the next morning, Anthony Chen, wearing a brand new casual suit and his hair meticulously combed, walked into Citibank, the largest restaurant in the city center.
He looked calm and walked calmly, just like the hurried white-collar workers around him. He took a number, queued up, and then sat down at an empty counter.
"Hello, I would like to make a cash deposit." He smiled and handed his debit card and the rucksack containing more than 50,000 US dollars in cash to the capable-looking black lady at the counter.
When the lady saw such a large bag of cash, a trace of imperceptible surprise flashed in her eyes, but her good professionalism prevented her from asking any more questions. She took the bank card and started typing skillfully on the keyboard with her fingers.
This is the most critical step. If there is any flaw in Elias's forged identity, the bank's system will issue an alarm as soon as possible, and there will be endless trouble waiting for him.
Chu Hang's expression did not change at all, but his heartbeat involuntarily accelerated a beat. The fingers on his knees unconsciously tapped the seams of his trousers.
Time seemed to be stretched out at this moment.
He could clearly hear the crisp sound of the teller typing on the keyboard, the beeping sound of the money counter in the window next to him, and even the slight friction sound of the security guard in the corner of the hall quietly moving his heels because he had been standing for too long.
"Mr. Chen, is that right?" The teller raised his head with a professional smile on his face.
"Yes." Chu Hang's heart suddenly rose to his throat.
"Your account information has been confirmed." The teller said, and began to put the piles of cash into the money counting machine, and the machine sang happily. "Please sign here."
Done!
When Chu Hang smoothly signed the name "Anthony·Chen" on the deposit slip, he knew that he finally had an identity that could stand in the sun in this era. From this moment on, he was no longer the ghost hiding in the shadows and unable to see the light.
The deposit process was extremely smooth. US$55,300 was deposited into his new account every penny. Looking at the brand new numbers in the bank card, Chu Hang truly felt for the first time that he had grasped the pulse of this era.
He politely thanked the teller, put away his bank card and receipt, turned and walked towards the bank door.
He was in a good mood, even a little light. The next step was to open a stock account at a securities company, and then quietly wait for Yahoo to be listed, turning the one hundred thousand dollars into one million, or even ten million. A brand new future was waving to him.
Just when he pushed open the heavy glass door of the bank and the dazzling sunlight shone on his face, his steps suddenly stopped.
His pupils shrank to the size of a pinhead in an instant.
He saw across the street from the bank entrance, next to a Chevrolet car of Black Noir, standing two people he least wanted to see at the moment.
One is a tall black man wearing a crisp Black Noir suit. His iconic bald head and one eye covered by a Black Noir eye patch are so conspicuous in the bustling crowd.
Nick Fury.
The other one was the young agent next to him who looked a little green, but had equally sharp eyes and a sense of intelligence.
Phil·Coulson.
They seemed to be talking to someone, and their eyes scanned the crowds coming in and out of the bank entrance from time to time, as if they were looking for something.
S.H.I.E.L.D.! They haven't given up yet! Moreover, they actually found this place!
Chu Hang's brain was running at high speed in an instant. How did they find this place? Is it a coincidence, or have they already grasped clues that they didn't know? Are they looking for themselves?
An icy chill rushed from his spine straight to his forehead. The freedom and new life he had just gained seemed to turn into a colorful soap bubble in the sun at this moment, which could be popped by those sharp eyes at any time.
He forced himself to calm down.
Don't panic. Panic is your biggest enemy.
He immediately turned around without any pause, walked back to the bank lobby, and walked naturally to the ATM machine nearby, pretending to check the balance. With his back to the door, he used the corner of his eye to stare at Fury and Coulson's every move through the reflection of the smooth glass door.
He saw Fury finish the conversation, and his one-eyed eagle scanned the bank door again. His gaze even stayed on Chu Hang's back for a few tenths of a second.
At that moment, Chu Hang felt as if his back was pricked by a cold needle. He could clearly feel that Fury's eyes were full of scrutiny and suspicion.
But in the end, Fury still looked away. He didn't seem to see any flaws in this "ordinary white-collar man" who was well-dressed and elegant. Perhaps, he just felt that the figure from behind looked familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen it before.
After all, the current Anthony Chen, both in temperament and appearance, is completely different from the soldier Chu Hang who fought bloody battles on the battlefield fifty years ago, or from the haggard "Frozen Man" who wore prison uniform in the Project Pegasus base.
Fury and Coulson got into the car. Black Noir and Chevrolet soon merged into the traffic and disappeared at the end of the street.
It wasn't until the car completely disappeared from sight that Chu Hang slowly breathed a sigh of relief. Only then did he realize that his back was soaked with a layer of cold sweat.
He did not leave immediately. He stayed in the bank for another ten minutes, and after confirming that no suspicious person was watching him, he left quietly through another side door and quickly disappeared into the criss-crossing streets.
Walking among the bustling crowd, the expression on Chu Hang's face returned to calm.
But in his heart, he no longer felt as relaxed and comfortable as before.