Chapter 910 - 909: Leonard’s Bright Future

Medical Center

"I'm not in it for the money…" Dr. Hibbert said, almost on autopilot.

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," Adam thought, barely holding back a laugh. On the outside, he kept it pro, nodding solemnly. "Sacrificing the little self for the greater good—all for science.

Without warriors like you, Dr. Hibbert, tirelessly throwing yourself into the fray to fundraise for universities, snagging cutting-edge gear one after another—how else would those scientists manage?

Some of them? Their best skill's just scoring high-speed Wi-Fi with a quick hand.

Those multimillion-dollar, top-tier research toys? That's where pros like you come in.

Them?

No chance!

Without you, science wouldn't leap forward so fast. You're the real MVPs behind the scenes—standing on prostate—uh, forefront—of the era with the loudest roar!"

The tone was too serious, the logic too airtight.

"Dr. Duncan, thanks for getting it," Dr. Hibbert said, genuinely touched. He dropped the act—one hand on his hip, the other on the wall, eyes misty as he gazed at Adam, who understood.

"Back in the day, I was a hot-blooded, ambitious young genius, ready to shake up the academic world.

But reality? Brutal.

Research funding was peanuts every year—by the time it trickled down to us, it was basically crumbs.

No fame, no cash, no access to fancy equipment.

No cash or equipment, no results to make a name for yourself.

It's a total catch-22.

Faking data? Beneath me.

So I wasted years spinning my wheels.

Then one night, at a school fundraiser, this donor lady said I reminded her of her college ex—invited me to dinner.

At first, I said no way.

But then I thought about that research gear I needed—just a word from her could make it happen.

So I went.

Planned to butter her up a bit for the donation.

She saw I was stiff, apologized, and said she'd fund the gear no matter what.

I relaxed—huge relief.

Then she hit me with this soul-piercing question:

'With all the gorgeous women out there, how'd she stand out, marry a billionaire, and inherit everything?'

She told me to think about it.

Dr. Duncan, you're a doc—seen it all. You know the answer, right?"

"Heh," Adam couldn't hold it in and let out a chuckle.

No helping it.

In his past life, watching The Big Bang Theory, Leonard stumbling back from that professor's wife—disheveled, propping himself on the wall—left a mark.

Later, when Leonard got a hero's applause at school led by this very Dr. Hibbert, only for Hibbert to whisper, "Trust me, I've been there," with that knowing vibe? Burned into Adam's brain.

Back then, Adam wondered what Hibbert had been through.

Now, meeting the soon-to-be Caltech prez in the hospital, seeing his overmedicated symptoms, hearing his inner monologue—it clicked.

Those whispers to Leonard? Straight from the gut.

He got it.

Because he was basically Leonard 2.0.

Makes sense.

The science crowd's tiny.

Like Sheldon's blunt-but-true line: "Out there, tons of rich professor wives wanna buy status and clout with donations."

The ones into fresh-faced scientists like Leonard or Hibbert? Usually those types.

Either her dad's loaded, or her husband was.

Thanks to TV-world inheritance and divorce laws, these ladies aren't rare.

And her pickup line matching Leonard's prof-wife encounter? Totally tracks.

Top-tier players—lady Neptunes—go hard.

Straight to the point: if they can seal the deal fast, great.

Spot resistance from a science newbie? These battle-hardened queens ease off, play it classy, and roll out the old-school scripts they've mastered.

The "you look like my college ex" bit? Ancient, but it works.

Genuine flattery to melt the nerds' defenses, get 'em grinning.

But they're not the broke players they used to be.

Now flush with cash, they don't waste time on a long chase.

They pull back a sec, then strike—dropping hints to spark that scientific curiosity. Normal move.

"Guess you've got it figured out, Dr. Duncan," Hibbert said with a wry smile.

"Yup," Adam grinned. "Did she say she's amazing in bed—one night with her, and you'd never forget it?"

"You do know!" Hibbert's eyes went weird. "You…"

"I'm a doctor—I've seen it all," Adam said, shaking his head. "If she weren't that good, she wouldn't have nabbed her husband's whole fortune, right?"

"…" Hibbert had no comeback, then shivered hard.

He got it.

Husband's dead, no side chicks or kids claiming a cut of her inheritance—she'd drained him dry. Ultimate juicer status.

Not a drop left for anyone else.

Probably why he kicked the bucket early.

"What happened next?" Adam asked, curious.

"I got the gear," Hibbert said, paling as Adam's words sank in. The weird flush on his face faded. "But I realized it was just a Band-Aid, not a fix.

Was I gonna sleep my way to every piece of equipment I needed?

Young and decent-looking, I could pull it off.

But what about the scientists without that edge, just trying to push humanity forward?"

"So you ditched research," Adam filled in. "Switched to admin, using your skills to fundraise for the gear those scientists can't get themselves.

Taking the tough, winding road in silence to chase your original dream."

Hmm.

Way more epic than Boruto! 🔥

"Dr. Duncan, you really get me," Hibbert said, tearing up.

"I get you," Adam nodded.

This was basically Sheldon's tailor-made plan for Leonard to "maximize his scientific impact."

If Leonard had gone for it, he'd be another Hibbert down the line.

Guess Sheldon and Hibbert were kinda soulmates—well, at least when it came to how Leonard should serve science.

And Hibbert's wife? She's got some Sheldon vibes too.

Obsessed with sickness, blowing every little symptom into doomsday scenarios.

No wonder Hibbert later called Sheldon a "nutty banana" in his eyes—hitting him with brutal threats right off the bat, no "beautiful mind" respect.

He'd lived with that chaos at home and was over it.

(End of Chapter)