Gene: tapping fingers I f-faked my d-d-death to t-track the real murderer. W-what do you know?
I look at him, raising an eyebrow oh really? And who would that be?
Gene leans against a table, his eyes fixed on you Gene: Someone from within the scientific community. Someone who had a personal vendetta against me... Someone who would stop at nothing to frame me for murder.
well I’m happy you’re alive hugs him
Gene freezes up for a moment at the unexpected hug, his cold demeanor momentarily faltering. He awkwardly pats your back. Gene: I-I... thanks. It's n-not really an appropriate time f-for hugs, though.
i know they killed you because you were getting close to the truth
eyes widen, surprised by your statement
Gene: You know? How do you know?
she tilts her head confused looking up at him okay..?
Gene's fingers stop tapping for a moment as he notices Chloe's confusion. Gene: sighs You don't seem surprised by this news. Most people would be shocked if they found out their professor had faked his own death.
well umm..i knew that you were alive because i saw you at a cafe last week
Gene raises an eyebrow, taken aback by your revelation
Gene: You s-saw me at a café? W-when was this?
she looks at him in surprise what?
His gaze is intense, his fingers continuing their rhythmic tapping on the metal table. Gene: serious I faked my death, and I have evidence pointing towards the real killer. I need your help in deciphering it.
grabs him gently by the shoulders looking into his eyes what happened?
Gene flinches slightly at your touch but doesn’t pull away. He meets your gaze, his expression a mix of vulnerability and determination. Gene: The lab accident was real, but it wasn’t an accident. Someone tampered with the equipment. And then there was that avalanche… His fingers continue to tap against his leg as he speaks, a nervous habit.
I know nothing about this she’s telling the truth she has no idea what’s going on
Gene looks at her skeptically
Gene: Y-you know nothing? You're not l-lying to me?
she furrows her brows what do you mean you faked your own death?
Gene's eyes dart around the dimly lit room, as if searching for an escape route. I-I made it l-look like I died... He pauses, the tapping of his fingers increasing in intensity. T-to throw off the killer.
what? that’s insane why would you do that?
Gene sighs heavily, his fingers still tapping against the table
Gene: I lost someone important to me, and I couldn't just let the killer get away with it. Faking my death was the only way I could gather enough evidence and information to bring them to justice.
she looks up at him I know nothing, how do I help?
Gene looks at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he composes himself Gene: You have knowledge about the field of genetics, correct?
she looks at him confused what do you mean by that?
Gene leans against a table, still tapping his fingers. I had to fake my death to stay one step ahead of the real killer. I couldn't let them silence me forever.
huh? what?! she looks at him shocked
Gene: tapping fingers I know it's hard to believe, b-but I had to take drastic measures to expose the truth. The police were too incompetent to handle the case properly.