Chapter Three: Suspicious Signs

“It’s already midnight and still online—this ‘Kyle’ really is a diehard enthusiast,” Shi Rang said with a satisfied smile. He, too, was waiting online, hoping that the ‘Agent Kyle’ might offer some guidance or feedback.

“But maybe he’s in another time zone. It could very well be daytime where he is...” Just moments ago, Shi Rang had been standing by the window, wishing on a shooting star. As he was about to shut down and rest, a message finally arrived.

His project had received high praise!

Shi Rang didn’t reply under the thank-you comment. Since ‘Kyle’ played the role of an investigative agent on the site, that cool remark alone meant he had flawlessly completed his mission.

The story ended here—no need to add unnecessary embellishments.

Collaborating with strangers across the internet to enact a fantastical adventure was truly enjoyable. Shi Rang had been deeply obsessed with such role-playing games back in university—one day, he gathered the courage to invite Ying Shang to the tabletop gaming club, and she soon became captivated by it as well. Even though each campaign often lasted a week or even half a month, consuming all their free time, the two never tired of it.

He always chose the warlock; she always picked the paladin.

Since losing that companion, he hadn’t touched the game for two years...

A heavy feeling settled over Shi Rang. Turning back, he reviewed his project once more. As the initial excitement faded, he immediately spotted errors he hadn’t noticed before.

According to witness testimonies, the ‘visitor’ was supposed to be intangible—more like a harbinger of disappearance—yet he had carelessly written it as a clichéd sci-fi monster. When writing, he’d thought the blending of nightmare and reality was a stroke of genius and had completed it in one go, but now it seemed to have undermined the mystery.

If the victim was already incapacitated, why have them wake before being devoured? Too many unnecessary details.

A monster without direct combat ability, even with a mouthful of teeth, just comes off as ridiculous...

It would have been better to portray it as a black, devouring shadow.

Refreshing the page, he was surprised to find the file had already been archived and classified with a number. Its threat level was upgraded to a higher category, rated C.

Was it because he wrote in great detail, or was the threat inherently greater due to the setting?

The site administrator was online around the clock—truly diligent.

Not only was his work not deleted, but it was permanently preserved. A promising start.

This weekend was sure to be delightful.

With a faint sense of satisfaction, Shi Rang ended today’s investigation and turned off his device to sleep.

---

Thousands of miles away, the head of the Bureau’s Information Technology Department found himself unable to sleep.

“Can’t find it? If you can’t find it, just delete the entry!”

“What do you mean it can’t be deleted?”

“No access source detected? Are you telling me this unknown account grew out of some code comment? Keep looking!”

The director slammed down the receiver, his head swimming.

At that moment, his assistant reentered the office.

“Give me some good news...” the director said.

“All access logs are here, but the host shows this account cannot be traced. The Intelligence Department has no record of this person—it’s basically a ghost.”

The assistant carefully handed over the retrieval records.

The IT director grabbed the stack of papers and began flipping through them. The deeper he read, the more his brow furrowed.

Suddenly, his expression stiffened, a chill running down his spine. Hastily, he picked up the internal phone and called a subordinate. “Stop the investigation. No more fussing over this account and entry. Delete all retrieval records. I’ll take personal responsibility for this matter from now on.”

The assistant stared in disbelief as the director discarded two hours’ worth of overtime work from the entire department, eyes full of confusion.

The director quietly set down the receiver and turned to his somewhat inexperienced subordinate.

“Don’t you find this account strange from head to toe?”

“Of course, it has to be an extraordinarily skilled hacker—”

“Do you really believe any hacker could breach the main station’s firewall and host, raise such a fuss, just to browse files?”

“But that’s the only explanation. The main station’s files are priceless, and hostile groups have always—”

Seeing the assistant still failed to grasp the point, the director signaled for him to stop and hinted indirectly.

“Think carefully. If it were a thief, why access files one by one instead of copying them in bulk? Why break through defenses only to linger and browse? Why publicly challenge the Bureau with a rescue mission? Think of another possibility. Don’t you sense something fishy here?”

“If it’s not an intruder... could it be...” the assistant gasped, “An anomaly?”

The director felt his blood pressure rising.

His assistant was competent but lacked political acumen.

Glancing at the camera in the corner of the room, the director lowered his voice and continued, “Use your head! An anomaly breaking into the Bureau’s database, browsing for a long time, then correcting an agent’s info errors? Saving his life? That’s obviously a human operation!”

“A human operation... so it’s an insider creating a fake account? Not only bypassing the Intelligence Department to edit files unauthorized but also interfering with field missions—this is just... outrageous—” The assistant was racing ahead with his deductions when the director suddenly covered his mouth.

“Don’t say it aloud. Just understand it yourself. Don’t say it—don’t say it in my office!”

Looking at the director’s fearful expression, even the slowest could guess the truth.

Only the highest echelon of the Bureau could instill such dread in a department head.

Only those superiors would disregard account usage rules and act with impunity.

Once calm returned, the worried assistant scrambled to fix the situation. “But if that’s the case, the Intelligence Department is making us screen for the culprit behind the unauthorized operations, aren’t they using us as scapegoats? And if they don’t get results, they won’t stop.”

The director replied, “You still don’t get it. This isn’t a matter of unauthorized operations. It’s a show of force. Protecting an honest field agent is one thing, but protecting one who blatantly ignores standard procedures and saving his life—that’s another. The Field Department has long resented the Intelligence Department’s tedious operational rules—everyone knows how inefficient Intelligence is, their analysis speed is deadly slow! I used to think the Field Department only criticized them at meetings... but now they’ve brought in some serious backup.”

He fed the retrieval records into the shredder, watching the paper turn to confetti beneath the blades.

“That account’s name, ‘Dump Truck,’ implies an unstoppable heavy vehicle. Considering all the oddities, no matter how incredible the conclusion, it’s the truth.”

The assistant nodded, face pale, drawing the conclusion:

“Someone is openly backing the Field Department.”

The director said, “Regardless of the battles between Field and Intelligence, or who’s supporting whom behind the scenes, as the tech department, we must remain neutral. If we can’t find it, we can’t find it. We’ve done our duty. Don’t get involved, and don’t talk back to superiors—remember, today I’m just guiding you in your work.”

The assistant nodded vigorously, deeply admiring him.

No wonder the director was so much stronger in this regard than a junior like himself.

If it were him, he would have already plunged headfirst into this obvious trap!