"...can you tell me the way?"
"4a75737420676f20646f776e207468652068616c6c."
"...uh huh."
Some time passed, and soon, Isaac found himself infiltrating the LSCC's institute grounds. It wasn't easy by any means since Laplace was teeming with various equipment that could detect the slightest anomalies present. If it weren't for the fact that Isaac's fog was barely distinguishable from a regular mist or vapor, he wouldn't have been able to infiltrate here with his abilities.
Even then, he still faced some challenges that forced him to play it safe.
And now, after donning on a gray and white assortment of clothes that resembled a researcher, he was now able to mingle amidst Laplace.
He wanted to immediately find the people Madam Z wanted him to take care of, and thus asked around for a bit.
He never would have imagined that the first person he'd meet was someone he knew from the game.
It was the elusive John Titor.
Looking at the girl with glasses holding a portable PC IBM 5100, Isaac conjured a wry smile.
"Okay... So I'm not really that well-versed in Hexadecimal so... I'm guessing just down the hall?"
John nodded her head slightly, agreeing with his words before responding with her usual cryptic words. "596f7520776f6e2774206d6973732069742e."
She spoke so fast that, despite how long her sentence was, she said it quite swiftly.
"...I see. Thank you for your time." Briefly attempting to translate what she said, Isaac soon gave up on it and instead thanked her. "I'll be going now. Goodbye "
With that said, Isaac briskly walked away from the senior computer engineer. He felt that the more he stayed with her, the more confusing the interaction would be.
Wearing a white lab coat, Isaac appeared no different from the other researchers present. Of course, due to the nature of his fog that affects the mind, he'd sometimes get the attention of certain people affected by it, but he managed to either slip past them or smoothly talk his way out.
He stopped from here and there, asking the other passing researchers certain questions that could lead him to his targets.
Along the way, however, he saw a familiar face.
That other person also noticed Isaac and stopped for a moment before conjuring a smile similar to him. Then, with a carefree tone, he greeted him. "Oh, if it isn't Mr. Isaac. What are you doing here? With the way you're currently dressed... I'm guessing infiltration?"
"X... Nice to meet you again." Seeing who it was, Isaac relaxed a bit and greeted him back. "Also, how are you sure that I'm here for infiltration? Can't I be here for, say, trying what it feels like to be a researcher?"
X shrugged casually. "That could be true, yes. But the fact that Regulus is also here and she has yet to return to your suitcase means that you're either here to check on her or have other reasons."
After saying that, he sighed while scratching the back of his head. "Well, not like I'm gonna do something about it. Regardless of your reasons, just make sure you won't make a big ruckus while you're here, okay? I want to have a nice dinner tonight."
Isaac momentarily paused before scoffing lightly. Indeed, this was X — carefree, eccentric, and enigmatic. He was a genius but only applies it to niche or eccentric things, barely caring to apply it to anything else.
Tucking his hands in his white lab coat, Isaac nodded. "I'll do my best. Have a good dinner tonight, X. Also, I may or may not be returning here frequently for the foreseeable future, so just a heads up."
"That won't do. Just because you've succeeded in infiltrating once doesn't mean it would work again." X's golden eye shifted to Isaac and inspected him, seemingly observing his every detail. "I'll work up a fake ID for you... That shouldn't be too hard."
Isaac raised a brow. "Really? I'm grateful, but... What would you want in return?"
X paused for a moment before shrugging once more, that same enigmatic small smile still plastered on his face. "Let's just say that I want to see where this machination would lead to. I won't personally be involved in it, but I'd love to see the process and how it would end."
'In other words, you're treating this as another Goldberg machine...' Isaac maintained his composure and smile while scrutinizing X's reasons. 'You really did have a penchant for that...'
To witness something done so convoluted only for it to result in something comically simple — this was what a Goldberg machine is, and the very thing X is all about.
After pausing for a while, Isaac soon nodded. "It's a deal then. Oh, and before I leave, do you know anything about these people?"
He then gave the list of people he wanted to see to X and waited for his response. After a while, the eccentric researcher returned the list.
"They're all team leaders in Laplace just like me, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find them. Just keep going around and you'll eventually find them." X explained. Then, walking past Isaac, he soon bid farewell. "That's all. Goodbye, Mr. Isaac."
Seeing the young man walk away with a casual gait, Isaac paused for a while before nodding with a smile.
Then, without uttering another word, he began to track down his targets.
It wasn't easy, but he was able to eventually pinpoint all of them down and their respective fields. The only problem now was how he would "coerce" then to join their side.
In the end, Isaac decided to wait a few more days to learn more about them.
Regulus wasn't going anywhere anytime soon while she's under Laplace's custody, and Madam Z already knows that this process would take a while.
As for the others in the suitcase, he knows that they're safe for now. Sotheby had contacted her father and, until he arrives, the Foundation can't touch her. As for Druvis, it was already clear that she would be the last to fall, so he wasn't worried about her.
As such, Isaac decided to wait for a while, slowly accumulating his offensive attacks.
---
A few days later.
Inside one of the laboratories of Laplace, the team leader of a certain field in research was having a lunch break.
All of a sudden, the door of the laboratory opened and the figure of a young man entered.
He wore a white lab coat with a gray undershirt and appeared no different from the other researchers in Laplace.
The team leader, a man in his early middle age, stopped eating and looked up at the young man, his brows furrowing.
"Who are you? I'm on a break right now and shouldn't be meeting anyone soon. Which team are you from?"
At that question, the enigmatic young man suspected to be a fellow researcher took his time and didn't immediately reply.
Then, after a while, he turned his gaze to the team leader and smiled — a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Good day, sir." He greeted politely. "Apologies for the interruption, but I figured it best to drop by now… while things are still simple."
The team leader narrowed his eyes. "Simple? What do you mean by that?"
The young man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he approached the counter, glanced briefly at the man's half-eaten lunch, and made a casual remark. "Interesting choice. You always eat the same thing, don't you? Every Wednesday. Routine's a powerful thing — comforting… but also predictable."
The team leader frowned further, subtly straightening his back. He then spoke with a low voice. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm not saying anything, sir. Not exactly." He smiled again, setting down a slim folder he'd pulled from his lab coat. "I just think we both understand that there are things in this lab — in your field specifically — that don't always make it into the official reports. Hidden variables, suppressed outcomes, unaudited test batches… Wouldn't you agree?"
The middle-aged man's eyes contracted and he instinctively refuted. "I don't know what you're talking ab—"
"Of course not. It's all just hypothetical." The young man waved a hand casually. "But you see, hypotheticals are interesting. Especially when compiled, cross-referenced, and — let's say — presented under the right circumstances. To the right ears... To the right superiors."
He tapped the folder gently with two fingers.
"Again, this is probably nothing. I'm sure any small oversights were made purely in good faith. But… better safe than sorry, wouldn't you say?"
The silence between them grew palpable.
The team leader's jaw clenched slightly. And, with reluctance, he asked the young man. "...So what do you want?"
The young man's tight-lipped smile widened.
"I simply need a signature. Nothing drastic." He opened the folder and slid a single page forward — an official-looking form, bureaucratically worded to the brim. "Just a small refusal to a transfer request. Routine procedure. No harm done."
The team leader stared at the document for a long moment. His eyes didn't leave the page, but he asked deeply. "And if I don't sign this?"
The young man met his gaze. "Then I suppose I'll have to reconsider which version of the story I keep to myself… and which version I archive for transparency's sake."
As the team leader stared at the young man's dark murky eyes, he felt all of his senses scream to never trust him.
But the chaotic thoughts inside were also telling him to accept it.
A long silence followed for a while. Eventually, the team leader reached into a drawer, pulled out a pen, and signed the document with a tight flick of his wrist.
The young man closed the folder while humming a tune, before slipping it back into his coat. He then gave a polite bow of his head to the team leader.
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate your cooperation. Enjoy the rest of your lunch."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and exited the lab with the same quiet confidence he entered with — his footsteps fading down the corridor as he walked away.
The team leader sat frozen for a moment longer, no longer hungry for his meal, and his hand still resting on the now-empty space where the folder had been.
He sighed, his voice laced with regret. "Never in all my years here..."
His voice trailed off.
Meanwhile, the young man outside who was humming an uplifting tune smiled once more, the triumph of victory washing over him.
"Next."
It won't be too long now.