Chapter 51: A Return to the Main Station

Being forced to wait while fully aware of one’s peril is a torment in itself.

Shi Rang casually picked a few vegetables, some bread—unsure of what else to buy.

Thinking of the three hundred or so guests soon to arrive at his home, he went back and grabbed a carton of eggs, then slipped back into a dazed, wandering state.

Behind the cashier’s counter, the clerk holding a shotgun seemed to suspect him of theft, keeping a wary eye on him from a distance. Shi Rang had no choice but to sit down in the customer rest area, clutching his electric bike helmet, knees gripping the battery pack, facing the public television mounted high above—but unable to focus on a single thing.

He didn’t know what any of this still meant.

The Bureau had already arrived. With their professional expertise, the people coming to capture him were likely already en route.

How long until the pursuers arrived?

Could the reconnaissance team escape?

“That person was so bad!” Taking advantage of the empty surroundings and the fact that the surveillance cameras didn’t cover his side, Jack slipped out from Shi Rang’s sleeve, waving frantically in front of his nose. “He almost caught me!”

“Take them and run, Jack,” Shi Rang’s lips trembled as he murmured, “I can’t get away anymore.”

“No way. You’re a good person, the Bureau is the bad guy, you’ll be fine.”

Shi Rang wanted to continue persuading him, to devise a plan to send them far away, but how far could Jack escape on his own? Could he survive out there?

…So all they could do was pray for the miracle to continue.

The Bureau hadn’t come for him last night, nor this morning; hopefully, they would never come for him at all.

He exhaled deeply, trying to breathe out all his fear and set an example for the child.

“Then let’s keep waiting.”

Only half an hour had passed, the sky outside still bright. The reconnaissance team probably hadn’t scouted many areas yet; it was best for Shi Rang to return later.

For now, he’d just hang out here, enjoying the air conditioning.

“…Thanks to an anonymous journalist who infiltrated the criminal organization undercover for days, this horrific tragedy was exposed.”

The television was broadcasting a report on the human smuggling case in Pingyuan City—the scene photos shown were ones Shi Rang had witnessed firsthand. Indeed, it was terrifying, enough to give nightmares just from looking at them across the screen.

But it was still far from what the night had been like.

The process of uncovering the truth described in the news felt utterly unfamiliar to Shi Rang; the infiltration, undercover work, and calls for backup sounded like something out of a movie—telling the legend of another journalist entirely.

After all, who would believe he had “experienced” being buried alive, chased, and thrown back into a deep pit by two madmen, only to obtain this firsthand information?

The adapted version sounded more plausible.

He had actually survived that ordeal…

Shi Rang leaned forward on the table, closed his eyes, trying to relax his mind.

He had endured too much torment these past days; if it continued, he would surely break down.

---

But now he wasn’t alone. Many depended on him. He had to control himself and bear this responsibility.

As he drifted into darkness behind closed eyelids, that strange sensation returned—not as strong or obvious as before, but very close. Upon careful examination, Shi Rang noticed a slightly larger presence on his pant leg, with others scattered across his body.

He focused on the larger cluster, narrowing his eyes to see Jack lying on his leg, trying to rest briefly while Shi Rang shielded the surveillance cameras.

The rough journey had exhausted the child as well.

Am I sensing mini people?

Could it be that the Bureau agents also had mini people on them? No way…

Shi Rang closed his eyes again, concentrating on this “sixth sense,” striving to extend this strange new sensory organ.

Suddenly, his mind exploded.

Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands—coordinates flooded his brain; countless conversations, reports, explanations, discussions, and listings appeared all at once. Endless documents, records, summaries flashed incessantly… All this information was crammed into Shi Rang’s head in an instant, causing excruciating pain. He straightened his body abruptly, then collapsed weakly forward, forehead striking the table.

“Shi Rang!”

“He’s fainted!”

“Press the philtrum—no, wait, we can’t do that!”

“Jack, take the littlest one to stimulate his nerves… but no drill, we’re not drilling him!”

The mini people scrambled into action.

Jack swiftly jumped onto the helmet, climbed up Shi Rang’s shirt collar, and carried the medical team to his head. The rescuers crawled over his skin, quickly entering the crevices between his eyeballs and eye sockets.

One second, two seconds…

Suddenly, with a terrified gasp, Shi Rang awoke.

He coughed violently, tears streaming down his face. The helmet slipped from his grasp, bouncing and rolling aside.

The medical team was swept away by his tears and breath, landing back beside their companions.

“He recovered too fast—they weren’t even finished yet.”

“We could have waited a bit longer.”

“Someone’s coming! Hide!”

Almost as soon as the little figures retreated beneath his clothes, a shadow loomed over Shi Rang.

“This isn’t a place for you to ‘relax.’”

“Cough, cough—I, uh, cough cough… I wasn’t…”

The clerk eyed the area suspiciously but found no illicit drugs or tools, so he walked away with his shotgun, muttering, “Don’t cause trouble here.”

Shi Rang was too weak to explain further. He held his throbbing head, groaning incessantly.

---

He had once again faced death’s door.

Confronted with that deadly flood of information, his brain momentarily shut down, refusing to process the overwhelming neural stimuli, plunging him into shock. Coupled with his accelerated healing, it had saved his life.

But what exactly was it?

He dared not fully open his “sixth sense” to embrace all it could perceive. As his mind gradually recovered, he realized that besides the positions of the mini people, there was another gentle presence left behind.

It was a door.

Or rather, something resembling a door.

When Shi Rang identified it as a door, its outline shifted into that of a door. When he thought of it as an entrance or exit, it left a void leading to the unknown.

Finally, he chose to let it take the form of a door, and it solidified fully, becoming the shape of the familiar door to his home.

Something was on the other side.

Having learned from his recent ordeal, Shi Rang cautiously edged toward it, ready to withdraw his mind back to reality at any moment, and pushed the door open just a crack.

The information drifting out from the other side was sparse enough to digest. He read many words, some coherent, some mere fragments, and others resembling images.

“C-888 Latest Search Report,” “Temporary Communication Channel Records,” “Warning: Bureau Archive—”…

So familiar.

Shi Rang carefully extended his consciousness to the other side of the door, attempting to organize the scattered pieces into a pattern he could comprehend.

But there were too many fragments, like tens of thousands of puzzle pieces jumbled together, and he didn’t know where to begin—

Wait.

He knew an example.

Shi Rang retrieved a case from his memory, using it as a template to slot the disordered information into place.

Gradually, he realized he was not directing them; rather, he was grasping the original shape of the information. The process resembled learning—after digesting the otherwise dull content, the original text suddenly made perfect sense.

Soon, he completed it.

What lay beyond the door was the homepage of the Bureau’s headquarters.

[Welcome back, “Mud Truck.”]

He connected his consciousness to the headquarters.