Chapter Nine: Turning the Tables
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Night, eleven o’clock.
Here at “Singularity Security,” it might as well be another dimension.
Heavy metal blared to deafening levels. Lin Feng lounged in a pair of oversized shorts, an almost-melted popsicle dangling from his lips, feet propped up on the desk, fully absorbed in… gaming.
“‘Mouse!’ Get me a can of ice-cold cola! Extra ice! Quick! I’m about to take on five at once!” he mumbled toward the ceiling.
“Roger, boss!” came a cheerful, electronically synthesized voice, bright as a child’s, echoing from the speakers. “Robotic Arm One is fetching your cola, Arm Two is smashing the ice, Arm Three is prepping your straw! ‘Mouse’s’ service is always this attentive!”
No sooner had the words faded than a precision industrial robotic arm delivered a glass of cola piled high with ice, holding it steadily to his mouth.
Without even glancing up, Lin Feng clamped the straw between his teeth and took a long, deep pull. Then, with a decisive click, he pressed the mouse.
On the screen, the dazzling “Penta Kill” effect exploded in a blaze of glory.
“Nice!” he whistled triumphantly, momentarily forgetting all the day’s frustrations...
On his monitor, the ultimate defense mode, “Why Defend Against Mouse if Mouse is So Cute,” meticulously crafted by his AI assistant “Mouse,” functioned like a loyal yet neurotic sentry, ripping apart every network signal that dared to probe the premises.
Meanwhile, in the lower right corner, a communication request from National Security, encrypted at the highest level, had been flashing persistently for ten full minutes.
It was Xiao Ran.
Lin Feng leaned back, arms crossed, showing not the slightest intention of answering.
He was still furious.
He couldn’t shake the memory of a few hours ago, in that oppressive command center, where he—like a stripped clown—had been forced to lay bare every secret and privacy for those “elites” who once dissected him with suspicious eyes...
A blaze of humiliation and rage, impossible to stifle, burned wildly in his chest!
Trust?
To hell with trust!
He was about to blacklist Xiao Ran’s request altogether when “Mouse’s” cheerful voice piped up.
“Boss, Her Majesty the ‘Queen’ has been rejected by the ‘Anti-Plague’ system seventeen times! According to my emotional model analysis, if you don’t answer soon, her probability of ‘turning dark’ will reach 99.8%! At that point, some beautiful lady in a black uniform might rush in and confiscate me and all your figurines!”
Lin Feng’s mouth twitched.
Reluctantly, he cursed into the air and finally connected the call.
He didn’t even bother with holographic projection, opting only for voice mode.
“What is it?” His voice was icy, laced with undisguised sarcasm. “Group Leader Xiao, have you found another series-numbered stool?”
“Or is your bureau so incompetent it can’t catch a rat hiding in its own house, so you’re asking me—the ‘outsider’ you treat like a suspect—for help?”
A long silence greeted him from the other end.
Lin Feng could even hear her breathing, urgent and angry.
But, to his surprise, Xiao Ran didn’t argue.
When she spoke again, her voice was tinged with suppressed exhaustion.
“Lin Feng, I’m not here to fight with you.”
“You’re right. We have an internal problem.”
“Now, I need your skills. Help me root out that rat.”
Her tone was like stating a cold fact. No request. No command.
“Why should I?” Lin Feng sneered. “Because you interrogated me like a criminal just now?”
“Sorry. My skills are expensive.”
“And I never serve anyone who doesn’t trust me.”
Again, silence.
Lin Feng expected her to press him with “national interest,” or threaten him with “Director Wang’s orders.”
He was ready with a hundred retorts to shut her down.
But Xiao Ran tossed out a bargaining chip he couldn’t possibly refuse.
“…Director Wang has just given special approval.”
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“All restrictions are lifted on the operation code-named ‘Zeroing’—the one where Senior Lu Hongsheng sacrificed himself five years ago…”
“…All the original data logs.”
Lin Feng’s breath froze instantly.
“Including,” Xiao Ran’s voice, devilishly seductive, whispered with deadly allure, “…the final minute of internal communications before the Sky Network cut off all technical support to Senior Lu…”
“…the last recording.”
Boom—!
If humiliation and rage had been a flame before, then Xiao Ran’s words detonated a hydrogen bomb that could ignite the entire solar system.
Lin Feng shot up from his chair.
For the first time, his eyes—always ablaze—showed a nearly “greedy,” blood-red gleam.
Five years ago—the truth!
That was the demon haunting him for half a decade, waking him in countless midnight terrors.
He’d dreamed of knowing it.
“…Fine.”
It took him a long time to force out that single word between clenched teeth.
His voice was rough, like two rusted metals scraping together.
“…Deal.”
...
Half an hour later.
A remote combat meeting, fraught with “distrust” and “mutual maneuvering,” began.
Lin Feng and Xiao Ran both activated their holographic projections.
Separated by dozens of kilometers, they confronted each other again in the virtual conference room.
“To catch a rat, you can’t let it know you’re hunting it,” Lin Feng opened directly. “You’ve turned the command center into a fortress. The rat will only burrow deeper.”
“So what’s your brilliant plan?” Xiao Ran’s tone remained chilly.
“Simple.” Lin Feng’s familiar, mischievous smile appeared. “Stage a play—a complete break between us.”
“You’ll keep acting as the ice queen who hates this ‘wild card’.”
“And I’ll play the scoundrel who grabs credit and runs, intent on going solo.”
Xiao Ran stared at him, brows tightly knit. Silent for ten seconds.
Her answer was cold and resolute.
“No way! That’s absurd!” Her voice carried unquestionable authority through quantum communication. “Lin Feng, what do you take the National Security Bureau for? A Hollywood set? We’re a disciplined force, not actors! If this internal sting goes out of control, it’ll destroy all trust in the team! I absolutely refuse!”
That was the proper first reaction of a commander who upholds rules.
“Discipline? Trust?” Lin Feng seemed unsurprised. He scoffed, and for the first time, his usually flippant face showed a hint of compassion.
“Group Leader Xiao, look back at your team. Is there any trust left?”
“They’re suspicious of each other. Efficiency has dropped by at least half! Andersen doesn’t need to do anything—just utter ‘mole,’ and your elite squad becomes a powder keg primed to explode! Is this the discipline you want?”
Xiao Ran’s pupils contracted sharply.
“You have two choices now,” Lin Feng’s voice was a scalpel, precisely slicing through her inner dilemma. “First, stick to your ‘proper’ procedures, watch your team rot in endless infighting, and see Huaxin Technologies steadily march to ruin.”
“Second, use my ‘madman’ method, gamble boldly, cut through the chaos, and rip out the festering sore embedded in your bones!”
Xiao Ran’s breathing quickened.
Lin Feng gave her no respite, delivering the most lethal, cruel blow.
“…Xiao Ran, wasn’t it because you chose wrong between rules and humanity back then?”
“Now, another choice stands before you.”
Boom—!
That sentence struck like lightning at the core of Xiao Ran’s soul!
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She remembered the failed mission, her partner lying in a pool of blood, and her trembling hand.
Yes—back then, blinded by faith in rules and her “perfect” marksmanship, she’d ignored humanity’s most uncontrollable variable, and paid dearly for it.
Would she repeat the same mistake?
The video call was swallowed by a long, deathly silence.
Lin Feng waited, not pressing, simply watching the woman engaged in a fierce internal battle.
At last, Xiao Ran nodded, slowly, with difficulty.
“Alright.” Her voice was raspy, sandpapered. “I agree.”
But she wasn’t passive.
In the instant she agreed, her entire aura shifted from “struggle” back to “commander.”
“But the details are mine to decide!” Her eyes sharpened anew. “The play, how it’s staged, who sees it—it must be seamless!”
“Three fake intelligence pieces,” Lin Feng laughed, knowing the fish was hooked. “Each with a different security level and release channel. Intelligence A is shared in open meetings, given to everyone.”
Surprise flickered in Xiao Ran’s eyes. She hadn’t expected the madman’s logic to match hers.
“Exactly,” she replied quickly. “Intelligence B goes only to your core tech circle. Intelligence C is for your most trusted, no more than three people. Right?”
“Right,” Lin Feng answered crisply.
“But how can you monitor the enemy’s reaction?” Xiao Ran asked the crucial question. “Andersen’s counterintelligence skills—you know them better than I do.”
“That’s not your concern.” Lin Feng wore his familiar, almost godlike confidence. “Just make your performance convincing. The rest—I’ll be the spectator who sees everyone’s cards.”
It was a mad gamble.
The stakes: the entire task force’s future.
They were the only dealers.
Once all plans were finalized, they sat in brief silence.
“Lin Feng,” Xiao Ran finally spoke, her tone full of warning—and an unwitting hint of trust.
“One last warning. Only the two of us direct this play. If I find you’re hiding anything…”
“I promise you’ll be the first I personally eliminate.”
Lin Feng dropped all pretense, meeting her gaze with rare seriousness.
Then, solemnly, he nodded.
Xiao Ran looked at the man in the hologram, driven nearly crazy by her doubts, and was silent.
She had to admit—
This madman’s twisted logic, though it violated every crime psychology book she’d studied,
Damn it, made sense.
...
After a bout of bargaining—full of mutual disdain yet grudging respect—
The operation codenamed [Double Reed] for catching the mole was formally sealed.
“All right,” Lin Feng stretched lazily. “Script’s written. Let’s see if you, the ‘leading lady,’ pull off your performance.”
“Just mind your own business,” Xiao Ran replied coldly.
She was about to cut the connection.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, she added,
“…That log about Senior Lu…”
“When we catch the rat, I’ll personally hand it to you,” Lin Feng’s hologram met her gaze, for once with something close to solemnity.
“I promise.”
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