Genius Club

This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation

“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!”

Suddenly, a figure burst out from the crowd, laughing hysterically. It was a man with a face painted in garish red and green oil colors, his head bobbing erratically, and hair dyed in a rainbow of colors.

“Hahaha! What wonderful news! All you warmongers can go to hell! Hahahaha!”

The man appeared to be in his fifties, a middle-aged individual whose strange outburst had everyone baffled. What could possibly bring him such joy?

Even more perplexing was the chalky rainbow of colors atop his head, which seemed to scatter in all directions as he moved. The air around him turned thick with the powdery residue, irritating everyone’s eyes and noses.

“Cough, cough! Cough, cough…”

Lin Xian’s throat, already scratchy and uncomfortable, now felt as if it were being sandpapered by the irritating dust. The colorful particles had triggered a fit of violent coughing, making him feel as though his throat was literally on fire.

“Ah…” He exhaled slowly, as gently as he could, trying to avoid aggravating his throat further.

Nearby, CC pinched her nose, fanning the air with her hand to disperse the chalky cloud. She frowned in annoyance.

“Who on earth is this guy, and what does he want? He’s so irritating.”

“He’s a friend of Einstein,” Lin Xian replied in a hoarse whisper, his voice raspy from the coughing.

“A friend of Einstein?”

CC’s expression softened slightly, her tone less harsh.

“Does that mean he’s also a brilliant scientist?”

“No,” Lin Xian said, shaking his head. “He seems more like a lunatic. I can’t for the life of me understand how someone like him could be friends with Einstein.”

“Well…” CC mused, glancing at Lin Xian with sympathy. “They say there’s a fine line between genius and madness. Einstein and this rainbow-haired clown might just be living proof.”

She turned her concerned gaze back to him. “Lin Xian, your voice has gotten even raspier. It’s so much rougher now.”

“That’s thanks to that guy and his chalk dust,” Lin Xian grumbled. “But maybe it’s a good thing. Don’t you think my voice now sounds completely different from what it used to?”

“Totally like two different people,” CC admitted. “Though, I have to say, your cracked voice has a bit of an Irish lilt to it. In Brooklyn, there are lots of Irish folks who talk with that kind of upward inflection.”

“Well, then,” Lin Xian said with a faint smile, “I’ll just pretend to be an Irish mix-blood.”

“Hahahahaha! Warmongers, begone! The world belongs to love and peace!”

The rainbow-haired man spun around again, his head leaving a trail of chalk dust in his wake. Lin Xian and CC quickly turned their backs, pinching their noses to avoid another “biological attack.”

“What on earth is he so excited about?” Lin Xian wondered aloud, puzzled. His eyes trailed to where the man had first emerged.

On a nearby dining table, a newspaper lay open.

Ah, so that’s it.

The source of the man’s excitement was likely an article in the newspaper.

“I’ll leave you here, CC. Take your time eating, and I’ll come back for you later.”

“Alright.” CC was already engrossed in her meal, pouring herself a full glass of red wine. “Don’t worry, I’ll just stay here enjoying the buffet.”

“Wait a second…” Lin Xian hurriedly grabbed the wine bottle to stop her. “You don’t fill a wine glass to the brim! This isn’t soda—half a glass is plenty. Besides, do you even know how to drink wine?”

“I’ve never had it before,” CC admitted, blinking innocently. “I’ve never even had the chance to try red wine until now. I just want to see what it tastes like.”

“Fine.” Lin Xian gave up, figuring it wasn’t a big deal. Red wine was low in alcohol, after all. “Just don’t drink too much. Stick to cola, kiddo.”

“You’re the kid!”

…

Leaving CC behind, Lin Xian made his way to the dining table and picked up the newspaper. His eyes fell on the bold headline in the upper-left corner:

“Former Army General Douglas MacArthur Loses Primary Election Bid! Withdraws from the Presidential Race!”

“Oh, so it’s him,” Lin Xian muttered, understanding now why the rainbow-haired man had been so ecstatic.

MacArthur was a notorious warmonger. He had once suggested deploying 26 nuclear weapons against Lin Xian’s homeland, X Country. This extreme proposal led to his dismissal by then-President Truman in 1951. The dismissal wasn’t just symbolic—it stripped MacArthur of all his titles, a rare occurrence in U.S. history.

The fallout was severe. Truman’s approval ratings plummeted to historic lows, making reelection impossible. Meanwhile, MacArthur, disgruntled and unwilling to accept his disgrace, began preparing for a presidential run.

But unfortunately for him, his ambitions were dashed in the 1952 primaries, forcing him to retire from politics altogether. The presidency ultimately went to Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander during World War II, in 1953.

At this moment, in late 1952, the primary elections had just concluded, marking MacArthur’s defeat.

“No wonder that rainbow-haired clown was so thrilled… Clearly, he’s a peace advocate and a staunch opponent of MacArthur.”

MacArthur’s loss reflected the public’s desire for peace. After all, electing a man who once contemplated nuclear war against another nation would have been disastrous. Soldiers and civilians alike preferred peace over conflict.

Lin Xian couldn’t help but chuckle, recalling internet videos that had humorously critiqued MacArthur’s legacy. Who would have thought that decades after his death, MacArthur would become an internet sensation in X Country?

“For what it’s worth, I’ve finally learned MacArthur’s full name.”

Lin Xian had always assumed that “Mac” was his first name and “Arthur” his surname. But now, seeing the name written in English, he finally understood.

MacArthur’s full name clicked into place in Lin Xian’s mind: MacArthur wasn’t his first name but his last name. His first name was Douglas, making it Douglas MacArthur.

“Why are there so many Douglases? Is this name super popular in America?” Lin Xian scratched the gorilla mask on his head in mild confusion.

Across the street from this banquet hall, on the promotional board for a nearby cinema, was another “Douglas”—the lead actor in The Big Tree Ridge Vendetta, Kirk Douglas. And now, there was Douglas MacArthur, the former five-star general who just lost his bid in the primaries.

Straightening up, Lin Xian turned his gaze back toward the rainbow-haired eccentric, Einstein’s peculiar friend. The man had now taken to the dance floor, skipping and hopping while shouting celebratory slogans about MacArthur’s loss and the triumph of love and peace.

“Well, that works for me. Now I can talk to Einstein alone.”

Lin Xian adjusted the heavy gorilla mask perched on his head. The timing was perfect—his voice disguised by its hoarseness, his face concealed beneath the elaborate costume. There was no way Einstein could recognize him. Even if Einstein really was the future chairman of the Genius Club, he wouldn’t connect this “gorilla” to Lin Xian, the club’s ninth-ranked genius, because:

“The gorilla of 1952 has absolutely nothing in common with Rhine of 2024.”

Click. Click. Click.

The polished soles of his high-end leather shoes echoed faintly as Lin Xian approached the table in the corner. The noise of the banquet grew louder behind him, but he was now mere feet from one of the greatest physicists in human history.

“Good evening, Mr. Einstein,” Lin Xian said, bowing slightly despite the absurdity of his bloodthirsty gorilla mask. “I’m a university student and an admirer of yours. May I sit down and talk with you?”

Einstein, who had been sitting somberly with a melancholy expression, slowly lifted his head. His eyes widened briefly at the grotesque visage before him—a snarling gorilla mask inches from his face. He leaned back in startled surprise but quickly recovered, letting out a weary sigh and shaking his head.

“Young man, you’re admiring the wrong person,” he said softly. “The true heroes are those who have contributed to humanity’s peace, not someone like me, who hides in research and has caused more harm than good.”

“Still,” he continued with a faint smile, “this is Halloween. It’s neither a lab nor a conference hall, and every guest here is the host of this party. If you’d like to talk with me, feel free to take any seat.”

“Thank you, Mr. Einstein.” Lin Xian expressed his gratitude before taking a seat opposite the physicist. He adjusted the oversized gorilla mask that obscured his entire face. He’d initially considered wearing a humorous Bugs Bunny mask but decided against it. If his goal was to conceal his identity completely, the gorilla mask was the superior choice.

“You’re quite the curiosity, young man,” Einstein remarked, spreading his hands. “You’re the only person at this costume party who believes I’m actually Albert Einstein. Everyone else assumes my hair, beard, wrinkles, and features are part of a costume.”

He pointed to a lipstick mark on his cheek. “Just a while ago, a little witch ran up to me, gave me a kiss, and said I looked exactly like Einstein on TV.”

“Ah, well…” Lin Xian’s hoarse voice cracked as he chuckled. “That’s enviable. I kind of regret wearing this gorilla mask now. I doubt any little witch would want to kiss a gorilla.”

“Are you unwell?” Einstein asked, his gaze shifting to Lin Xian’s expressive gorilla eyes. “Your voice sounds strange.”

“More or less,” Lin Xian replied, nodding the gorilla’s massive head. “The weather’s been cooling down so quickly. I think I caught a chill.”

Perfect. Lin Xian placed his hands on his knees, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Everything was going smoothly. He’d successfully initiated a conversation with Einstein, who turned out to be far more approachable and down-to-earth than expected. No arrogance, no airs. Einstein seemed eager to chat.

It also confirmed another observation: Einstein’s tolerance and open-mindedness were extraordinary. After all, his closest companion tonight was that rainbow-haired oddball. He’d seen so much in life that nothing could faze him.

Now, Lin Xian could proceed with his second main objective: investigating the secrets surrounding Einstein and his potential ties to the Genius Club. First, he needed to understand Einstein’s perspectives more deeply.

Lin Xian decided to broach the subject with a weighty question: Does humanity have a future? This line of inquiry would help reveal Einstein’s mindset and possibly align with the suspected overlap between him and the Genius Club chairman.

“Mr. Einstein,” Lin Xian began, his raspy voice low. “I truly admire you. I’ve read many of your interviews and news articles. Just recently, The Brooklyn Daily published your views on the Cold War and nuclear war… It’s clear that you’re deeply concerned about humanity’s future.”

He hesitated before continuing. “Like many others, I worry about your health and mental state. In your opinion, is the possibility of global nuclear war and the extinction of human civilization truly inevitable?”

Einstein let out a long sigh, lifting his gaze to meet Lin Xian’s.

“Young man,” he said gently, “if you’re a university student, you must have a good understanding of world history. From ancient times to the present, humanity has never stopped waging war.”

“From primitive humans wielding stones and sticks, to spears and arrows, gunpowder and cannons, firearms and landmines, planes and tanks, and now missiles and atomic bombs… War has been a constant. Weapons have only grown more advanced.”

“Everyone knows,” he continued, “that a third world war is inevitable. The first world war ended, and the second began barely over a decade later. So, it’s not hard to guess… how long before the third?”

Einstein closed his eyes.

A cascade of mushroom clouds flashed vividly in Einstein’s mind as he spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

“Today, seven years have passed since the end of World War II. The Cold War tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union are escalating, and the Soviets now have atomic bombs as well… No matter how I look at it, the third world war seems not far away.”

He paused, his expression heavy with the weight of his thoughts. “I can’t envision what the third world war will look like, nor the weapons humanity might wield. But I do know this…”

“If there is a fourth world war, the weapons will surely be stones and sticks.”

…

As expected.

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes. Einstein was entirely pessimistic, perhaps even despairing, about humanity’s future. To him, the third world war was imminent, a catastrophic clash of nuclear weapons that would all but obliterate human civilization, sending humanity back to the primitive era.

But Einstein was wrong—utterly and completely wrong.

The third world war did not break out in the 20th century, nor in the 21st. When Lin Xian awoke from hibernation in the year 2234, the world had still not experienced such a war. Moreover, there appeared to be no signs of one ever occurring. Instead, humanity had entered an unprecedented era of peace following the detonation of just two nuclear bombs in history.

“Hmm?”

Einstein, noticing Lin Xian’s silence, opened his eyes and regarded the grotesque gorilla mask. “Young man, do you have a different perspective?”

Lin Xian nodded, deciding to probe further. He couldn’t reveal the truths of the future, but there was one theory he could bring up—a topic fitting for debate in this era. By analyzing Einstein’s reaction to this theory, Lin Xian hoped to determine whether the physicist truly had connections to the Genius Club.

“I do,” Lin Xian said, his raspy voice carrying a faint smile. “Mr. Einstein, I believe your assumptions about future wars and humanity’s fate are incorrect.”

“Oh?”

Einstein’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

He enjoyed discussions, especially with bold young people who dared to think for themselves. Over the years, few had openly contradicted him—apart from the stubborn Bohr. It wasn’t that Einstein was arrogant; it was simply that most people regarded him as so intelligent, so infallible, that they would immediately dismiss their own ideas when they conflicted with his.

And so, he was genuinely intrigued by the young man in the gorilla mask. What insight could this student possibly offer?

“Well then,” Einstein said with a chuckle, leaning back slightly. “I’d love to hear your ‘correct’ answer. But before we proceed…”

He smiled, looking directly at Lin Xian. “I suppose there’s no need for me to introduce myself. Young man, what should I call you? Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m…”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The words came to Lin Xian’s lips, but he stopped short. He couldn’t possibly reveal his real name.

What should he call himself?

He suddenly regretted not preparing a pseudonym in advance. Now, under Einstein’s keen gaze, he needed to come up with something quickly. His mind raced, but he was drawing a blank.

There could be no long pause. A hesitation would undoubtedly tip Einstein off to the lie, shattering the fragile trust he had just established. He had to respond immediately—even if it meant saying the first name that came to mind.

In a flash, two names surfaced in his subconscious: Kirk Douglas and Douglas MacArthur.

“Douglas,” Lin Xian said softly, his voice steadying.

“Mr. Einstein, my name is… Douglas.”