Chapter 4: An Unexpected Message

Shi Rang opened his eyes. He glanced at his phone—it was already past noon.

“I overslept...”

He hurriedly got up to get ready. While washing his face, he stared at his sleepy reflection in the mirror for a few seconds, then casually wiped his head with a towel. His buzz cut, freshly trimmed last month, hadn’t grown much, which made it convenient to manage.

To refresh himself, he treated it like washing his hair.

He found the broadcast replay he had missed on his phone and set it aside as he heated oil in a pan.

“Good morning, listeners in Yunling City. Welcome to the morning broadcast at exactly 7 a.m....”

The oil sizzled in the pan as Shi Rang placed two slices of bread in it. The bread soaked up the butter, turning a slightly golden brown under the heat. This simple meal served as both breakfast and lunch—a cost-saving trick of his.

After living in the Tenth District for so many years, his tolerance for food had reached the point of tears—though not exactly from pleasure.

The bread was from the near-expiry shelf; it had expired three days ago, but the expiration date was just a guideline, and Shi Rang trusted his fridge.

Having eaten so many bread wraps, he longed deeply for the food of his homeland.

Steaming hot fried dough sticks, soy milk, sticky rice cakes... No, if he kept thinking about it, his hunger would only grow.

“Today is clear and cloudless, perfect weather for an outing. The host recommends Central Park as a prime bird-watching spot...”

After breakfast, Shi Rang started mopping the floor with the radio playing, tidying up the house to bring it back to spotless condition.

There were many ways to pass the time in life, but in the Tenth District, known for its poor security, it was safer to stay indoors.

“Next, we have the recent features of unidentified deceased persons in the Tenth District. Listeners with missing relatives matching these descriptions, please proceed to the Yunling City General Police Department for further verification...”

Here it comes.

Shi Rang mopped the same spot repeatedly, listening intently.

“Female, approximately 40 years old... Male, approximately 50 years old...”

“Female, approximately 20 years old, height between 160 and 170 centimeters—”

Shi Rang’s heart tightened instantly.

“—purple tattoo on the right calf—”

No.

Not Ying Shang.

Luckily, it wasn’t her.

The subsequent unidentified deceased descriptions didn’t match the girl he remembered, so Shi Rang relaxed and continued mopping.

“The presidential candidate has expressed intentions to rename the Tenth District back to the Tenth Nation upon taking office, restoring the nickname from last century... Haha, this is hardly a common campaign promise. It would require the other eleven districts on the mainland to follow suit...”

“Breaking news: On the 27th of this month, the Green Island City police discovered several illegal factories processing highly toxic substances in densely populated residential areas. An emergency relocation of over 1,700 households in the affected zones is underway, with pollution assessments ongoing.”

“Experts indicate that the toxic substances have seeped into the local soil, making the area uninhabitable for the next fifty years.”

“The municipal government has just passed a resolution to accept some of the relocated residents from Green Island City...”

Shi Rang quickly rewound the message a few seconds and listened again.

It really was Green Island City.

He couldn’t help but recall the archive site he had discovered that caused him to oversleep.

Since finding the website on Friday, he had spent the entire weekend immersed in it, approaching it with the intensity of preparing for a college entrance exam, browsing entries tirelessly.

Though he hadn’t found opportunities to collaborate on writing, he was already deeply satisfied.

---

Each project document featured blacked-out portions concealing key information, hiding exact locations, but whenever Shi Rang hovered the mouse over them, the redacted information would appear—“Midnight Visitor” originated in Green Island City.

Coincidence?

More likely, Kyle was someone working within the official system, perhaps busy investigating illegal factories and inspired by real events, using actual incident neighborhoods as the basis for the archive entries.

No rule forbade using real place names in creative works.

Such anomalies couldn’t possibly be real; anyone believing them must have watched too many sci-fi movies.

Shi Rang didn’t dwell on it. He entered Ying Shang’s bedroom, tidied the bed neatly, and drew back the curtains to let sunlight flood in.

By 1:30 p.m., the house was spotless.

If Ying Shang appeared at the door the next moment, wanting to roll around on the bed like a child, she could have her wish.

“It’s so good to have you, husband!”

The voice floated from his memories and faded away. Shi Rang realized he was staring blankly at the front door.

He had been trying to make up for the morning he lost, yet now he had nothing left to do.

So, he glanced toward his own bedroom.

Returning to his computer, he accessed the “Administration Bureau’s Archives Station” through his bookmarks once more, diving back into the ocean of imagination.

[“Private Channel” is now open]

Private channel?

In the corner of the page, Shi Rang noticed a button that hadn’t been there before. Clicking it brought him to a similarly styled black, white, and red “Private Channel.” The layout resembled a chat room, but the main window was empty, with only an edge panel listing [Field Agent Kyle], showing “Last logged in three days ago.”

Probably busy raiding factories. Shi Rang didn’t disturb him.

Was this some kind of friend function?

Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID: [Junzi]. He answered and casually placed the phone aside, continuing to explore.

“Hey, Shi Rang, why didn’t you reply to all the messages I sent last night?”

Shi Rang suddenly noticed the “99+” notification bubble in the app corner. Besides the usual editor-in-chief’s harassment and colleagues’ chit-chat, there were many messages from Junzi.

“I stayed up late yesterday and didn’t see them.”

“No worries. I was just wondering why you hadn’t checked your phone for so long.” Junzi’s tone shifted abruptly to business, the real reason for his call. “My department is recruiting clerical staff for the branch office with good pay. Aren’t you always complaining about that damn editor-in-chief? How about a job change? The Fourth District has much better security than the Tenth. I can be your immigration guarantor. There’s a new policy right now—think about it? We could keep each other company! About Ying Shang—”

Shi Rang couldn’t focus on the private channel anymore. He withdrew his hand, leaned back, and sighed deeply.

“I need time, Junzi. Give me some more time...”

“Alright, I won’t bother you then. Call me if you need anything.”

Junzi hung up first.

Shi Rang rubbed his brow, feeling an inner ache.

...Forget it.

Today, he didn’t want to dwell on the past or the future.

With an escapist mood, he dove back into the [Mud Truck] private channel, right-clicking to explore its complex functions.

Suddenly, a new message appeared at the top of the page.

The sender was [Unknown], with a gray avatar.

Shi Rang’s brow twitched as he opened it.

[Hello?]

[Can anyone receive this message?]

[Is anyone here on this channel?]

Thanks to Esperanto, the world used a common primary language. Shi Rang’s fingers hovered over the keyboard briefly before typing a reply.

“Who are you?”

[Oh, thank heavens! This thing works!]

[Sorry, I got too excited.]

[I’m Robin, a Level 2 Electronic Engineer, currently still in my internship.]

[...Or rather, I was.]

Was this a real name or another username?

Shi Rang pondered for a moment, a long-dormant feeling stirring in his chest—the same sensation he’d felt while composing archives late at night, or years ago when lost in tabletop role-playing games.

His curiosity rekindled.

“You said ‘was’? What happened?”

[The alarm went off, and the door locked automatically. I’m stuck in this dusty machine room, and no one is answering the landline. Are you in the control room? Can you unlock the door?]

[Or maybe stop the alarm? Please! I feel like I’m going deaf orz]

[Is this a fire drill? The floor and walls feel like they’re shaking.]

Robin typed rapidly.

“Where exactly are you now?”

[In some underground facility that requires a confidentiality agreement to enter blindfolded?]

[The specific room... wait a sec!]

Seconds later, Robin replied.

[The access screen says something like “Site-031, E-3”?]

Shi Rang’s mind cleared instantly.

He had seen something similar in the archive station.

Sure enough, interacting wasn’t limited to writing archives; this user was engaging him in a more direct roleplay.

Robin’s language was clear and logical, clearly highly educated. Shi Rang had encountered many stammering, repetitive, or vague players during his tabletop campaigns; talking to someone like this was a relief.

He returned to the archive site and opened the [Official Documents] section’s “Specific Code Identification Catalog,” discovering that “E-3” referred to “Emergency Status 3.”

He then turned to the “Emergency Response Manual” and found the explanation.

[Emergency Status 1: Risk of containment breach. Full lockdown of the facility...]

[Emergency Status 2: Internal disorder. Suppression forces preparing to intervene...]

[Emergency Status 3...]

Shi Rang’s pupils constricted as he hurried back to the chat window.

“It means containment failure at Site 031. Automated biological extermination is about to commence.”

“You need to get out of there immediately, Robin!”