The Heart

"Is it that simple?"

Cisco frowned, finding it hard to believe. After a night of investigation, it seemed to him that Elon planned to just wait for the multiplex to show up and then electrocute him, and that would be the end of it.

Elon replied, "YES."

"NO, Elon, you can't kill people. If someone needs to go to jail, they go to jail. You can't just kill people indiscriminately."

Upon hearing Elon's straightforward solution, Barry protested. How could they just act rashly? Criminals should be judged by the courts, whether it's jail or the electric chair. There are laws in this world for a reason.

Elon was taken aback, having forgotten Barry's saintly demeanor. Alright then, no killing.

Before Elon could respond further, Joe interjected.

"No, that won't work. Iron Heights Prison can't hold meta-human criminals. I don't want all the criminals there to escape because of a meta-human oversight."

Barry added, "But we can't just kill every meta-human we encounter. They are human beings and have human rights."

The room fell silent. What to do? Regular prisons couldn't contain meta-humans, and one slip could lead to chaos. Suddenly, everyone found meta-humans to be a challenging issue.

Elon spoke nonchalantly, "Simple. Just build a prison that can suppress meta-human abilities."

Cisco's eyes lit up, "Right! We can build a super-prison. I like this idea."

Caitlin asked, "You mean?"

Cisco nodded, "YES. We have a location that can serve as a temporary prison."

Caitlin remained silent, her thoughts drifting to her fiancé, who vanished into thin air within the particle accelerator's loop, leaving behind no remains. Reopening the particle accelerator brought back her grief and memories of Ronnie. Nine months had passed, and she thought she had buried those feelings deep within her heart. Yet, this initiative stirred those emotions once more.

Barry inquired, "Where?"

Wells answered, "The particle accelerator."

Joe agreed, as long as there was a place that could securely hold meta-humans without causing trouble, that was okay. The law had little effect on them; it was meant for ordinary people. Meta-human crimes showed a blatant disregard for the law.

"Okay, I'll go ask around about Danton Black's family and friends. You guys hurry up and get that meta-human prison ready."

Thus, they split up. Joe returned to the police station to continue his investigation.

Wells and Cisco went to check the particle accelerator to plan the construction of the super-prison.

Caitlin sat motionlessly in the control room, haunted by the memories of her beloved, Ronnie.

Elon returned to his place, grabbing several bags of different brands of chocolate to stuff into his pockets for easy access. Though the research suggesting that dark chocolate could improve brain function and reduce anxiety mattered little to Elon; he simply loved sweets, chocolate, and milk. Before and after his arrival in this world, his love for these treats remained unchanged. The only difference was that there used to be someone who restrained his indulgence, and now he indulged freely, longing for someone to come and restrain him again.

Sighing at the thought, Elon wiped away a metaphorical tear, grabbed his chocolates, and prepared to go out for his driver's license registration.

Just as he stepped out, Barry appeared.

"Elon, I want to talk to you."

Elon was unenthusiastic. In the TV shows, this phrase appeared almost in every episode, but now it often cropped up in his life because Barry, burdened with troubles, always sought him out.

Barry felt a strange closeness to Elon, perhaps due to the Speed Force in his brain, considering them to be close enough to share everything. However, Elon was sure he wouldn't share Barry's underwear.

Elon was calm, feeling competent in playing the role of a confidant.

"Speak your mind, unless it's about eating my chocolate."

Barry pondered for a moment before saying, "Last night, Joe told me Dr. Wells had nothing to do with my mother's murder."

Naive child, he's the one who killed your mother.

Elon listened intently, finding Barry truly naïve.

Barry continued, "I feel somewhat guilty about suspecting Dr. Wells these past few days. Should I apologize to him? What if he doesn't forgive me and distances himself from me? He's my idol. Although Dr. Wells is completely unaware of my suspicions, it's like a thorn in my side, making me uncomfortable."

Elon was stunned.

Apologize for what? Feeling guilty just for harboring suspicions?

Elon had been in this world for about a month and understood some cultural behaviors. He knew Americans preferred to talk things out with those close to them, disliking secrecy about their thoughts and opinions. They were direct: if they liked something, they said so; if they didn't, they made it clear. If they wronged a friend, they usually sorted it out face-to-face.

But Barry's guilt over mere suspicion was something Elon couldn't relate to.

Torn, Elon struggled with the cultural difference. In his home country, it wasn't necessary to share every little secret with friends, but here, openness was expected.

Elon couldn't grasp Barry's emotions, perhaps why Barry was considered DC's conscience.

Brightness, kindness, integrity, benevolence, sincerity, courage, justice, unity—all these positive traits described Barry Allen.

Elon didn't understand Barry's feelings, just as his Western friends couldn't understand his enjoyment of eating pig's feet. The cultural gap was vast.

How could he explain the deliciousness of pig's feet?

Unexplainable.

But that didn't prevent him from offering Barry sound advice, "Go ahead. Follow your heart. Dr. Wells will forgive you."

Barry nodded thoughtfully, looking at Elon as if wanting to say more but hesitated.