Genius Club

This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation

CC looked confused, tilting her head slightly.

Brooklyn… Lin Xian…

Was there something in common between these names?

CC, who neither understood nor spoke X Country, couldn’t grasp Lin Xian’s pun.

“You’re still speaking nonsense, as usual,” she said quietly. “I never really understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lin Xian replied with a small smile. “Just watch me work my magic.”

…

The amusement park was empty now, its lights turned off after the last group of tourists left, and all was plunged into darkness—the true Coney Island night.

CC and Lin Xian wandered aimlessly down the path. CC breathed out, a puff of white mist escaping into the cold air. She wrapped her coat tighter around her shoulders.

“Looks like the cold front has arrived. It’s getting chillier by the minute,” she muttered, turning her head to glance at Lin Xian, tall and solid beside her.

“I heard some tourists say while we were in line that this cold front was supposed to be really harsh, and it would drop temperatures fast. They even said it might snow tonight.”

“Snow?” Lin Xian looked up at the sky, his own breath misting as he spoke. “Does it really snow here in Brooklyn in late October?”

“Usually, no,” CC replied, shaking her head. “But you can never be sure with the weather. Sometimes it doesn’t snow all year, and other times it comes early. But I have to admit, this cold is definitely unusual.”

She shivered slightly, adding, “Normally, we don’t get this cold until December. This winter might be the coldest one I’ve experienced in my life.”

“I see,” Lin Xian responded, slipping his freezing hands into his coat pockets, exhaling visible mist. “Seems like we need to upgrade our gear then. Sleeping under a bridge in this weather would definitely turn us into popsicles.”

“Yeah, I didn’t feel it while we were playing earlier, but now that you mention it, it’s really freezing,” CC agreed.

Their current clothes weren’t quite enough against the cold. The “church set” was no longer up to par; they had to find better outfits.

“Gangs… where would they usually hang out?” Lin Xian asked.

CC fell silent for a moment, trying to remember what she had heard before. “From what I know, the gangs in Coney Island are mostly Italian, mixed with some local groups. It’s chaos—there’s pretty much a fight or shootout every night.”

“But it’s not really about territory,” she continued. “The disputes are mostly over illegal trades and profit conflicts.”

Just then, a loud rumbling broke the silence.

The pair looked up to see two Harley motorcycles leading the way. Each bike carried a large man dressed in black, followed by a Lincoln sedan. The group sped past, loud and arrogant, before the sound of the engines finally faded and their lights disappeared, leaving Lin Xian and CC in darkness once more.

Lin Xian blinked. “Weren’t those…”

“Yeah,” CC replied, just as surprised. “Speak of the devil—those motorcycles and that car belonged to the gangs, didn’t they?”

“Come on, let’s go!” Lin Xian said, eyes lighting up as if he’d just discovered a treasure.

It was perfect timing—like a money tree appearing just when you needed one.

He grabbed CC by the arm, pulling her along the road. “Let’s follow them and see what kind of deal they’re up to!”

CC hesitated, biting her lip. Honestly, she didn’t want to do this—only lunatics or fools would deliberately mess with gang members. But seeing Lin Xian so determined, she couldn’t just leave him alone.

“Fine,” she finally sighed, giving in. “But you really need to be careful, Lin Xian. They’re definitely carrying guns. Don’t get into a fight with them.”

…

After some time, Lin Xian and CC sneaked through a small grove and found themselves at an abandoned warehouse. It was rundown, overgrown with weeds, its purpose long forgotten.

In 1952, Coney Island was still largely undeveloped—a perfect place for gangs to gather, away from the authorities.

The scene was fitting for someone like Brook Lin Xian. He loved the atmosphere of violence and danger. If his past self from the First Dream was still a struggling citizen of Los Angeles, barely surviving, now he could proudly call himself the King of Brooklyn.

With his power of Reverse Forced Evasion, Lin Xian was more formidable than ever, especially against gangs. He didn’t have to worry about the law or the police—no repercussions.

“Don’t worry,” Lin Xian whispered, gently pushing down on CC’s messy hair, making her crouch lower behind the bush. He eyed the gang members keeping watch near the warehouse. “Let’s just see what happens first. Looks like they’re waiting for another group. Either they’re buyers or sellers, but it doesn’t seem like they’re here to fight tonight.”

“How do you know that?” CC asked, frowning.

“That’s how it always goes in the movies,” Lin Xian said offhandedly.

Of course, in 1952, there weren’t many American gangster movies—the country was still too unstable for directors to risk depicting gangsters. It wasn’t until 1971, when “The Godfather” was filmed, that attitudes began to change. During filming, the mafia had been uncooperative, even issuing death threats, but once the movie was released, they loved it, thinking it was cool.

Since then, American gangsters often tried to emulate Marlon Brando’s portrayal of the Godfather, striving to appear just as sophisticated.

“Lin Xian, look!” CC suddenly nudged him, pointing towards the road.

Lin Xian glanced up. Headlights approached from the opposite side—five black cars, old-fashioned, with nothing to distinguish their make or model.

“Doesn’t look good,” Lin Xian muttered, squinting. “The gang on this side only brought two motorcycles and one car—six guys in total. But the other gang has five cars—they’ve clearly got more people.”

“Which means… they might be planning an ambush,” he said, just as the black cars came to a stop, and about a dozen men piled out, gathering together.

The gang members on Lin Xian’s side drew their guns, visibly tense.

Out of one of the black cars stepped a middle-aged man in a long black coat, a wool felt hat pulled low over his head, leaning on a cane as he limped towards them. It was obvious he was the leader.

“Nice outfit,” Lin Xian remarked. “Got that noble vibe.”

CC nodded. “Looks expensive too.”

The two gang leaders walked towards each other and shook hands. Their men brought forward two small suitcases, one black and one white—each the same size, though their significance was unclear.

From Lin Xian’s hiding spot, he couldn’t see what was inside. Whatever it was, the two groups quickly started arguing, speaking a language he didn’t understand—not English, not Italian.

And suddenly, without giving the other side time to react, the men from the black cars pulled out guns and started firing!

Gunfire erupted, echoing in the night air. CC went pale, covering her mouth and nose to stop herself from coughing as the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air.

It was over quickly. The gang members on Lin Xian’s side lay motionless, while the other group laughed, shouting words Lin Xian and CC couldn’t understand.

CC tugged on Lin Xian’s sleeve, her voice trembling. “Lin Xian… they’ll really kill people. We need to get out of here.”

“You’re right,” Lin Xian nodded. “We can’t keep hiding.”

Then, to CC’s utter shock, Lin Xian stood up from behind the bush.

“Hello there!” he called out, stepping forward and waving at the dozen armed gang members.

“$#&@*!” shouted the gangsters, aiming their guns at Lin Xian, their words incomprehensible.

“Lin Xian!” CC screamed, terrified.

But Lin Xian remained calm, smiling as he spoke softly. “CC, get ready to witness some magic.”

With a swift motion, he raised his hand towards the armed men, like Neo from “The Matrix.”

One by one, the gang members dropped to the ground. No gunshots were fired, no bullets flew—they simply collapsed, as if they were puppets whose strings had been cut.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

They stared in confusion, unable to understand what had happened. One moment they had their guns aimed, fingers on the triggers, ready to shoot—and then a powerful force hit their chests, leaving them helpless, unable to move even an inch.

Their bodies lay limp, crumpled awkwardly on the ground, faces pressed to the earth, unable to even blink.

“W-what… is this?” CC gasped, standing up from behind the bush, wide-eyed.

She took a deep breath, trying to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Lin Xian had merely raised his hand, and those men fell like dominoes. Was it magic? Sorcery? Some kind of superpower?

In the clearing, the only gang member still standing was the leader with the cane. His face had turned ghostly pale. He pulled a gun from his coat, aiming it at Lin Xian, but before he could pull the trigger, his body jerked backward, his heart squeezed tight by an invisible force.

He fell, just like his men, his cane clattering to the ground beside him.

Lin Xian walked over, crouched down, and took the black wool hat off the man’s head, placing it on his own. “I like your hat,” he said, grabbing the black handgun as well. “And your gun, and…”

He flipped the man over and took off his expensive coat. “Your coat.”

Lin Xian shrugged off his own worn-out coat, shaking out the black one in the wind before putting it on. He checked the pocket and found a pair of sunglasses.

The leader had come well-prepared, it seemed. Lin Xian took the sunglasses and put them on.

Now, with the black wool hat, sunglasses, long black coat, and a gun at his waist, his “gangster outfit” was complete.

“Much warmer now,” he said with satisfaction, feeling the fine material of the coat. Lin Xian then walked to the car, opening the two suitcases.

The black one contained white powder. The white one held stacks of green bills.

Lin Xian picked up the white suitcase and went over to one of the Harley motorcycles. He turned the key, kick-started the engine, and it roared to life.

“CC, hurry up!” he called, waving her over.

CC, still shaken, quickly ran over and climbed onto the bike behind him, holding tightly onto his waist.

The gang members began to stir, struggling to stand, but Lin Xian twisted the throttle, the bike roaring as they sped away into the night.

The powerful engine echoed as they sped down the asphalt, and soon they were safely away from the scene.

CC lifted her head from Lin Xian’s back, shouting against the wind, “What was that?! Was it magic or sorcery? How did you do it?!”

But she knew, deep down, magic didn’t exist in the real world. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

“Wait, could it be…” she muttered. “X Country kung fu?”

Lin Xian laughed as he drove. “Something like that. You could call it X Country kung fu. Deep, profound, mysterious.”

“But you didn’t even touch them!” CC protested, bewildered. “You were so far away from them—how did you make them fall?”

“Oh, that’s inner power,” Lin Xian said with a grin. “Like… the legendary ‘energy projection.’ And if you’re a master, you can even do the Five Lightning Whip.”

“Yeah, right,” CC huffed, even as her respect for X Country kung fu had grown—lightning sounded a bit far-fetched. “You’re just messing with me again.”

…

They stopped by the riverside, and Lin Xian opened the white suitcase.

CC frowned, staring at the bills inside. “Oh my god, that’s a lot of money… how much is it?”

“Now do you believe me?” Lin Xian picked up a stack of bills. “I told you—our tough days are over. We’re going to live the high life from now on.”

He tossed the stack into the air, letting the money rain down.

“You’re crazy!” CC shrieked, scrambling to pick up the bills, stuffing them back into the suitcase. “What on earth are you doing?! I don’t understand why you always do these crazy things! Why are you throwing money away?!”

“It’s all about the ritual,” Lin Xian said, closing the suitcase. “Now that we’re rich, CC, we can finally make your wish come true.”

CC froze, staring at him in disbelief. Why was this man always so kind to her, always willing to grant her wishes like some kind of genie?

“Suddenly getting rich—shouldn’t you be thinking of buying things for yourself? Improving your own life?” she whispered. “But you… all you think about is me, even remembering the things I said offhand.”

She looked up at him. “My wish—are you talking about…”

“Exactly,” Lin Xian said, climbing onto the riverbank’s railing. He looked across the water, at the bright lights of Manhattan—the center of the world.

“Didn’t you say the Brooklyn Bridge was like a wall, something you could never cross, something that kept you from Manhattan?”

He paused, then continued, “There’s no ocean that can’t be crossed, no wall that can’t be climbed. With all this money, we can explore Manhattan, play around, even settle down there if you want—open a flower shop, a café, anything.”

“But…” CC stepped closer, troubled. “Lin Xian, this is your money, and you risked your life to get it. You’ve already done so much for me, I can’t spend it on myself. You should use it for yourself instead of always trying to fulfill my wishes like some genie. I… I…”

She bit her lip. “No one has ever been so good to me. I don’t know how to…”

Lin Xian placed a hand on her slender shoulder, and she looked up to meet his gentle gaze.

“You gave me my first meal in Brooklyn,” he said softly. “That half piece of hard bread meant more to me than this suitcase full of cash.”

“And you said you’d go to space just to bring me a souvenir, even if it was just for a hot dog. I know you weren’t joking. Even though you told me not to take it seriously… I know you meant it. You’d bring me back a star.”

He looked down for a moment, then met her eyes again. “So… let’s not overthink this now. We’ve got all this money. No more sleeping in the park or under bridges.”

He walked back to the motorcycle, swinging his leg over and starting the engine again. With the roar of the Harley, he looked back at CC, smiling.

“Tonight… let’s go to Manhattan,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “To the center of the world, to your dream.”