Chapter 217

Chapter 217: The Boundless Dark Realm 72

By the time she woke up, it was already evening.

Kui Xin’s brain had become muddled from sleep. She got out of bed, did two sets of stretches on the floor, and only then did she feel her mind and body return to their normal state.

“Have they arrived?” Kui Xin asked.

“They have,” said Augus. “The person is at the Investigation Bureau, currently in talks with the leadership there. I’ve collected all the information for each of the special affairs department’s personnel who arrived in White Whale City and sent it to you. Since the special affairs department and the investigation bureau do not belong to the same system, the data I could collect is limited.”

“I’ll take a look…” Kui Xin clicked open the files and skimmed through them rapidly.

Augus had no idea what extraordinary abilities the people from the special affairs department possessed, so he could only make rough judgments based on their positions within the department.

The officers of the special affairs department were divided into different types: some were administrative personnel while others were combatants. Combatants also had different ranks and responsibilities; some were constantly traveling across the country for fieldwork, while others remained stationed at fixed locations or took orders only from a few leaders.

The level of secrecy within the special affairs department was tighter than that of the investigation bureau. Certain high-ranking awakened individuals whose security classifications were extremely high were unknown even to internal staff regarding their true identities and exact abilities.

Wang Feichi’s visit to Hei Hai City last time was somewhat of an exception. He was placed openly as an S-Rank individual, which served as a moderate deterrent. Apart from him, there were a few more S-Ranks whose identities were kept under wraps.

Ten people from the special affairs department were visiting White Whale City this time. Augus documented their facial features and all relevant citizen information.

Frowning, Kui Xin flipped through the documents again. “A total of ten people.”

She was surprised to find one familiar face among them—Li Wanran.

She read Li Wanran’s file carefully: “… In special affairs… No rank? Just a accompanying member?”

Kui Xin fell deep in thought.

She had already confirmed that the player who had contacted her on the player forum was Song Tingshuan. Song Tingshuan and Li Wanran had been teammates during the event when the dark realm descended. Based on the information Song had previously revealed, Kui Xin surmised that Song worked for the special affairs department. Now, Li Wanran appeared here alongside special affairs department personnel.

Did Song Tingshuan and Li Wanran both belong to the special affairs department in the second world? Perhaps Li Wanran alone belonged there, and Song obtained intelligence from her, taking on the role of a liaison and information disseminator.

Given that Li Wanran accompanied the special affairs department officer, it indicated that she was trusted within the department, and her identity as a player had not been exposed.

Li Wanran’s ability was “scene retrospection.” If the special affairs department knew what Li Wanran’s extraordinary ability entailed, they would want her presence in White Whale City to leverage this ability.

Fortunately, Li Wanran was somewhat similar to her; if she were a native from the second world, Kui Xin would have seriously considered eliminating her… the ability to retroactively reconstruct scenes, if used effectively, was truly frightening, easily leading to information exposure.

It was unclear whether Li Wanran had upgraded her ability since their first meeting in the first world, where her capacity had merely been rated E.

“Several people require extra attention,” Augus said as Kui Xin reviewed the documents. “Jiang Junshan, he holds the highest position in the special affairs department team. Geng Gaoming, the most physically formidable person among the accompanying personnel. Pang Ling, seems quite reserved, but before joining the special affairs department, she served as a high-ranking official’s personal bodyguard in the Federation…”

Several people were mentioned, but Li Wanran wasn’t among them.

“Why does this person have no rank in the records?” Kui Xin turned the page to Li Wanran’s information.

“People from outside the special affairs department might not have a listed rank,” Augus explained. “There are many technical advisors in the special affairs department; in cases of major incidents requiring analysis, these experts step in. Most experts are part-time consultants. Talented people are a rare resource; they may be busy with research or teaching at prestigious universities, and might not get involved much with special affairs except in urgent situations.”

“Indeed…” Kui Xin said.

Her eyes caught on the position for Li Wanran in her personal file: Professor of Criminal Investigation at Fu Gang University.

This seemed remarkably appropriate for her role in the real world, explaining why she was able to blend well in her current advisory position in the special affairs department.

“If everyone has arrived, we need to finalize our strategy over the next stretch of time,” Augus said.

“We need to avoid direct confrontation as much as possible, based on current circumstances. We are no longer pushed to the brink and forced into desperate measures. The lineup of the special affairs department is formidable; we should prevent a head-on clash. The Shadowless caused significant disturbance, allowing us to act boldly, challenge the financial tycoons, but it’s best to avoid directly interfering with the federal government, given our current strength is not as comprehensive as that of the Mechanized Dawn. The online heat around The Shadowless is very high, and awareness among players is rising. In the near future, the news may intensify further due to the false Abrak incident. Our primary objective has been achieved, and profits are steadily growing, ensuring adequate operational funding.”

“I agree,” Augus said, “depending on circumstances. For now, let’s focus on steady development. If the special affairs department remains in White Whale City and poses too much threat, we will proactively address the issue.”

“Exactly, and there’s still a lot we need to do, including conducting interviews and evaluations. It’d be a great help if you kept an eye on the movements of the special affairs department!” Kui Xin stretched and leaned back.

“Of course,” Augus agreed.

Kui Xin mulled for a moment. “Does the special affairs department have their own independent AI?”

“Indeed. Because they are independent, they lack the ubiquitous distributed presence like me and Eve do, with hosts deployed globally. The host for the special affairs department’s AI is stationed solely in the Federal Administrative Center,” explained Augus. “They rely on me when they are on an external mission in other cities. Within the Federal Administrative Center, they use their own AI.”

“That seems a bit inflexible,” Kui Xin commented.

“Yes, technically, the AI host could be expanded to operate in other cities, but the cost is prohibitive. Building a dedicated AI specifically for the special affairs department would cause redundant functions with those of mine, a waste of resources; the parliament didn’t approve such a plan,” Augus clarified.

“So, why don’t they just use your capabilities directly as an auxiliary AI?” Kui Xin queried.

“In that case, the databases of the investigation bureau and the special affairs department would connect, sharing sensitive information. The investigation bureau manages public order and crime control, whereas the special affairs department deals exclusively with critical matters threatening national security, executing tasks that others would prefer to keep hidden,” Augus explained. “Important figures still prefer to keep a thin veil of discretion, like securing stolen gold in a separate safe rather than a public bank—safer.”

“Nothing in the age of data is truly secure,” Kui Xin remarked. “Things within the central host are the most vulnerable. Look at Eve and me.”

Humans often forget that their most relied-upon tools can be turned against them, and the sad fact is that very few realize this betrayal.

“Right, that’s why essential data is typically backed up in physical form and locked away. Physical storage remains the most reliable method in this uncertain digital age,” Augus concurred. “Primitive, yet reliable.”

“Are the selections for the second round of interviews ready?” Kui Xin asked.

“The list is complete,” replied Augus. “Do we schedule the second-round interviews until next week?”

“Yes, only by returning to the first world can we assess membership reliability more accurately. Let’s conduct the second-round interviews tomorrow. Tonight, we’ll secure several temporary hubs…”

She had laid out the stage, and actors were stepping up to perform—one after another. She intended to select the most suitable actor from among them.

…

Li Wanran followed the special affairs department’s personnel and security officers from the investigation bureau into Diamond Heart. Urgent circumstances meant she perused the files handed to her while airborne in the hover police car.

“Has Abrak·Popov really been abducted?” Li Wanran glanced down at the file.

“Yes, currently controlling the public narrative,” replied Pang Ling, who she knew well. “Polina is indeed…”

She smiled slightly, leaving the sentence hanging.

“Was the scene tampered with by anyone else?” Li Wanran asked the onboard security officer.

The security officer responded, “The crime scene was cordoned off quickly and underwent immediate analysis upon arrival.”

Li Wanran frowned.

Pang Ling leaned in. “What’s the matter?”

“The many personnel entering and exiting the scene affect my ability, resulting in useless imagery that may or may not contain relevant clues,” Li Wanran explained.

“You must try your best,” Pang Ling responded curtly.

The hover police car settled on the rooftop landing pad of Diamond Heart. Officers opened the doors for Li Wanran and Pang Ling, guiding them accordingly.

Before stepping into the elevator, Li Wanran glanced back at White Whale City. The setting sun painted a magnificent scene, red-orange hues gently descending, and far-off black waters bathed in golden-red light. As dusk approached, the city’s neon lights came alive, interweaving over elevated bridges that wound through the metropolis like shimmering ribbons.

The lights illuminated the city shrouded in twilight.

Standing atop Diamond Heart, everything seemed small and insignificant.

“Quite a view, haven’t seen the sea in a while,” Pang Ling remarked, following Li Wanran’s gaze.

“Mmm, we should go.” Li Wanran stepped onto the elevator.

Upon arriving at the room where Abrak had encountered trouble, Li Wanran entered alone.

Bloodstains marred the bedding, with scattered teeth, some cracked; human teeth weren’t easy to dislodge. What force would crush the strongest part of someone’s anatomy?

Under the bed sat a device containing hypnotic drugs.

Li Wanran stood beside the bed and activated her “scene retrospection” ability.

Time rewound. Figures rushed past her. She saw two figures—a silhouette pushed open a cabinet door, approached Abra Popov lying unconscious on the bed, scanned him with a strange instrument, and then gripped his collar, striking his face roughly twice.

Then, the figure looked at another nearby, seemingly exchanging words.

Subsequently, the figure lifted Abra Popov, turned, and leapt into a blue spatial vortex that appeared out of nowhere.

Kai was terrified by what she witnessed, but she swiftly adjusted her expression and heartbeat, then turned away, showing no vulnerability as usual.

“All I saw were servants rushing into the bedroom, screaming in panic. There was nothing useful,” she reported nonchalantly. “This location has been frequented by too many people, the scene obliterated.”

“Pity… The clues are cut,” Pang Ling lamented sadly.