America: A Prodigy of Stereotypes

"If I decide now to have another child for John, will there be one more person in the family?" Frank asked.

"Dad, can you help us deal with the killer first?" John said helplessly to his father from thirty years ago, leaning on the desk with both hands.

"Let me change my target..."

Frank glanced at the cigarette butt in his hand, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and silently resolved to quit smoking.

In John Sullivan's new timeline memory, he died of lung cancer and could not be by John's side in the world thirty years later.

If he quits smoking, will he appear next to his children thirty years from now?

Frank Sullivan crumpled the entire pack of cigarettes into a ball and threw it into the trash can.

Starting today, I'm quitting smoking...

After making his decision, Frank heard his own voice on the radio.

“I did it, Frank,” another version of myself said to myself.

Li Qun and John stared in shock at the elderly Frank who had suddenly appeared in the study, their mouths agape.

"Hey kid, what do you think of my decision?" Frank laughed from thirty years ago on the radio.

Li Qun personally manipulated the timeline. At this moment, in John's house, only he and John remembered the situation before the change occurred, and new memories emerged in John's mind.

"Peter, do you know Uncle Frank?"

Li Qun asked Peter, who was standing to the side.

“Uncle Frank, of course I know him. He’s a retired firefighting hero,” Peter replied, looking at Li Qun with a puzzled expression.

“Liqun, why are you asking this? Could it be that you just…” The clever Peter Parker immediately realized.

"Uncle Frank..."

Just as Li Qun was about to ask the elderly Frank whether the Nightingale case had been solved thirty years ago, he suddenly realized that this was not something Frank could decide alone, and the unsolved Nightingale case remained in its original state, so he put the question back.

"A decision made in the past can determine the future..."

"Aunt Julia was perfectly fine in the past; the time of her death was one week in the future, thirty years ago."

“In the past, the murderer had already met with Aunt Julia, and the murderer decided to kill Aunt Julia,” Li Qun said.

John Sullivan looked shocked.

He hadn't considered this aspect; he was focused solely on investigating the case and had no intention of exploring the mechanism of time manipulation.

John felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon a gifted Asian high school student who could be of great help to him.

“I need guns, you need guns, arm your house,” the elderly Frank said to his 30-year-younger self.

"Isn't one shotgun enough?" Frank asked thirty years ago.

"You need lighter weapons, Dad."

“Son, do you have any recommendations?” Frank asked thirty years ago.

“Colt revolver,” John Sullivan said.

No sooner had he finished speaking than the elderly Frank, who was standing next to John, pulled a Colt revolver from his waist and began to handle it with the practiced ease of a Western cowboy.

The old father smiled at his son.

Chapter 37 Serious Deduction

Cecil Steadman stood at Sullivan's door and knocked loudly. He tried ringing the doorbell, but it seemed to be broken, so he had to knock instead.

John Sullivan looked through the peephole and saw a serious-looking man in a red tie and black suit standing outside the door, carrying a briefcase.

"Who are you looking for?"

John opened the door, but only a crack, revealing half his face as he spoke to Cecilia outside.

“I’m looking for Mr. Leopold; he’s here,” Cissell replied.

"Leopold? Who are you?"

“I also want to ask you, who are you? Why is Mr. Leopold here?” Cissell countered.

“It’s Mr. Cecil, John. Let him in,” Peter said from behind John Sullivan.

John let Agent Cecil into the house. Cecil saw old Frank turn slightly to him, and Cecil immediately realized that old Frank was trying to hide the pistol he was carrying on his waist.

Cecil looked around at the people in the room. He recognized Peter, Li Qun, and Leopold. He recognized Steve Rogers somewhat, but he didn't recognize John Sullivan and his son Frank Sullivan.

Six men were gathered in an old house in Queens. Judging from their positions, they were discussing something before he entered. Although it was dinner time, there was no sign of dinner being eaten inside.

Agent Cissell instinctively sensed that the six people were plotting something.

“Mr. Leopold, have you been keeping your identity a secret?” Cissell placed his briefcase on the table, opened it, and took out a brown paper document bag containing Leopold’s modern identity documents.

“I haven’t told anyone,” Leo replied seriously.

“I hope so,” Agent Cissell said meaningfully.

Cecilia was certain that the three men in the room, whom he did not recognize, knew that Duke Leopold was a time traveler.

"Excuse me, I've finished my work."

Have a pleasant evening.

Cecil pushed open the door and left Sullivan's house.

“He seems to be from a higher-ups,” old Frank said to his son John.

“A mysterious department, responsible for handling extraordinary events,” Li Qun said.

"Fortunately, he didn't discover the extraordinary events we're experiencing," old Frank said with a smile.

“Let’s continue our war council,” Steve said.

Six people squeezed into the study and gathered around the old-fashioned amateur radio station.

Where were we?

"Speaking of the back alley of the old restaurant on Dickman Street, the remains of the first victim are buried there," Frank said on the radio thirty years ago.

“We just deduced that the first victim knew the murderer. After identifying the deceased, we can find the suspect by following the network of relationships. Then, by checking everyone the mother had been in contact with in the past few days, we can identify the real murderer.”

“I just reviewed the data again, and among the newly added victims after the historical changes, one victim seems rather out of place,” Li Qun said.

"Among all the victims, apart from Aunt Julia, Ms. Mary was the oldest, and her home address was very close to Dickman Street."

“John, you’re a homicide detective, how come you didn’t notice this?” Li Qun asked.

"...I knew her; she was still alive back then."

John Sullivan looked at the address information in his notebook. After the first victim's remains were discovered, he visited the surrounding area, asked nearby residents for information, and even entered Ms. Mary's house.

John has a good memory. Before the historical changes, Ms. Mary lived with her husband. The couple had a son, but he died; their son had also been a policeman.

Subconsciously, John Sullivan felt he needed to go to the other party's house again to confirm some information.

“Leon, you really have a talent for being a detective!” John praised Li Qun.

"Is this considered talent?" Li Qun asked.

"Don't be modest, just admit it openly." Old Frank patted Li Qun on the shoulder, his eyes full of admiration.

“I have a bold guess: if Ms. Mary’s son, who should have died, suddenly came back to life, then he must be the murderer,” Li Qun said.

“Leon, how can you be so sure? We need evidence,” John Sullivan said.

"History has changed because of the people around this radio, John and Uncle Frank."

“You are like pebbles thrown into a calm lake, and the ripples are all around you. Although Uncle Frank has lived on because of you, John, the only one who truly changed history is Uncle Frank.”

"Uncle Frank is alive, but Aunt Julia met with an accident. The effects of historical changes are transmitted through the activities between people."

"The serial killer in history only killed four people before disappearing, but now he has killed eight."

What in the original history prevented the murderer from continuing to commit crimes?

“Perhaps the murderer is dead and unable to kill anymore,” Li Qun said.

"Could it be... that the assassin is the person I saved from the fire?" Frank asked hesitantly thirty years ago.

In the original timeline, Frank died in a warehouse fire, sacrificing himself to save a girl. After being reminded by John thirty years later, both he and the girl survived.

“It’s Mom,” John said to his father from thirty years ago.

“Because you survived, Dad, Mom continued working at the hospital. She came into contact with patients while working there, and the murderer was among them,” John deduced.

"I'll go ask your mother."

Thirty years ago, Frank got up from his desk and went to the kitchen, where his wife Julia was preparing dinner and seven-year-old John was playing with his best friend Gordon in the living room.

Julia.

"Have you saved any patients who almost died in the hospital these past few days?" Frank asked his wife directly.

"Why are you asking this?" Julia asked, puzzled.

She only remembered the bed number, not the patient's name.

"I just wanted to ask if they had it," Frank said.

“There is one,” Julia replied.

Do you remember what he looked like? What were his distinctive features?

"Frank, what are you going to do?" Julia turned her head and looked at Frank seriously.

“That person is very likely the killer in the Nightingale serial murder case.” Frank did not hide it from his wife.

"Are you serious?" Julia looked into Frank's eyes.

"I was serious."

“Someone warned me that the psychopathic killer has his eye on you, and I have to protect you.”

"Frank, you should call the police."

"The murderer may be hiding in the police station; calling the police would alert him."