Team Leader Li packed a lunch box, water, and tape into the large backpack and handed it to Pei Ran.
Too bad there was no gun.
She said, “According to regulations, new team members must complete three training sessions before they can be issued a gun.”
So that’s what the “three” she gestured yesterday meant—who could’ve guessed?
“I’m in a hurry to leave now, so I can’t help you with training. I still can’t give you a gun yet. Since you’re going alone, just collect the instruments. Don’t go anywhere else—that area is very close to the entrance of Black Well. If you encounter any danger at all, return to the entrance immediately. The soldiers will help you.”
She added, “Collect as much as you can, but don’t push yourself. Come back before dark. After you return, take the recovered parts to the factory in the Blue Zone—I’ll send you the address. You can drive the truck back to the dorm and bring it back tomorrow morning.”
Pei Ran nodded in agreement to each instruction.
Team Leader Li reminded her again: “Don’t make noise, don’t approach any working instruments with red lights on, and stay safe.”
She was so full of concern, even more nagging than W. Pei Ran gave her a thumbs-up.
Team Leader Li hurried off, and Pei Ran headed downstairs to the parking lot alone, car keys in hand, where she found the department’s beat-up little truck.
The parking lot was still mostly empty, with only a few cars around. Pei Ran hopped into the driver’s seat.
She started the engine, executed a sharp drift, and the tires screeched against the pavement, startling a nearby person who had come to retrieve their car.
She drove out of the garage.
But this time, she remembered W’s warning and obediently stayed on the right side of the road the entire way.
At the intersection, the traffic light lit up, and W gently reminded her in her ear: “Red means stop, green means go.”
“Relax, I know.” At the last moment before the light changed, Pei Ran slammed on the brakes, stopping the wheels precisely on the white line.
W: “Good thing I’m not in the car.”
Pei Ran: “Huh?”
W: “Never mind. I’ve sent a copy of the Federal Traffic Rules to your wristband. I’ll go over them with you later. Even though Black Well doesn’t have strict traffic laws yet, it doesn’t hurt to know. After all… well… reckless driving brings tears to loved ones…”
The light turned green, and in the surveillance footage at the intersection, the little truck vanished in an instant.
And so, she successfully arrived at the isolation gate of the West Entrance Tunnel.
First time awkward, second time smooth—scanning her iris, removing her wristband, applying the tape—Pei Ran did it all effortlessly.
As soon as she removed the wristband, she immediately activated Green Light No. 4 to search for the marker she had placed on the small robot yesterday.
The sensation of the marker emerged at once—she could sense its direction and approximate distance. It was still in the same mining tunnel as before.
Even after such a long time and at such a distance, the marker was still there.
Finally leaving Black Well and arriving at yesterday’s instrument matrix, Pei Ran grabbed the large backpack from the truck, slung it over her shoulder, and walked into the array.
She didn’t start collecting instruments right away. Instead, she headed deeper inside, straight to the spot where the device had gone missing yesterday, and stopped.
Today, the small black boxes in this area had already been tested for signals, leaving them blown to pieces and scattered everywhere. Yet, right in the middle, there was another conspicuously clean spot—no exploded parts, nothing.
Sure enough, another one was missing.
Just a few steps away from the empty spot, near the edge of the fissure, lay a large, flat red stone that hadn’t been there yesterday.
Pei Ran walked over and lifted the stone slab.
Beneath it, neatly placed, was a small piece of gleaming golden ore.
The little robot knew she had taken the golden ore from the ground yesterday. It had treated this place like a supermarket, bringing another piece to “buy” its energy block.
Pei Ran leaned over the fissure, peering down, but saw no sign of it. She used Green Light to scan for the marker again—it was definitely down in the mining tunnel.
Pei Ran stepped back and got to work.
The Green Lights were all awake, so she directed them to have their “breakfast” first.
After two straight days of feasting, the frenzied light particles inside her were almost entirely cleared out, and her body felt noticeably lighter and more comfortable.
Today, with no one else around, she could safely continue her Green Light experiments.
After collecting instruments for a while, Pei Ran opened her wristband screen.
The medium for drawing didn’t matter—Pei Ran took out the pen Lin Yu had given her, channeled Green Light No. 2, and began sketching on the virtual screen.
She quickly realized that Green Light No. 2 followed logic similar to that of a comic book page—it had to depict a coherent, self-contained sequence.
The virtual screen could be resized freely, but the drawing itself had to resemble a comic panel, illustrating a small, logically sound event. If unrelated elements were crammed together on the same page or if the sequence lacked coherence, the Green Light would get confused.
Its capabilities were also quite limited. Pei Ran tested it by drawing three pebbles falling in succession—it worked, but adding a fourth caused the effect to fail.
Twirling the pen in thought, Pei Ran considered: Green Light No. 2 has absorbed quite a few light particles and leveled up. Besides full-body paralysis, weakness, and falling, maybe it can now depict other things.
Like, say, a perfectly reasonable fire.
Pei Ran picked a small black box that was mostly intact but already scrapped.
The box was perfectly square—easy to draw. In the first panel, she sketched a normal small black box. In the second panel, she added a small flicker of cartoonish flames at its base.
A broken small black box, short-circuited, suddenly catching fire—that should be a logically sound event.
She stared at the small black box, twirling her pen.
The box stood there peacefully, showing no signs of igniting.
Unlike Green Light No. 1, mental intent didn’t seem to work here. With identical black boxes scattered everywhere, Green Light No. 2 probably couldn’t tell which one to burn.
Pei Ran casually placed a small pebble on top of the box and added the same detail to the drawing. She twirled her pen again.
Whoosh— A small, bright flame burst from the seams at the base of the box, burning steadily for a while before gradually extinguishing.
Success.
Encouraged, Pei Ran continued testing every plausible event she could realistically depict.
While busy experimenting, W’s urgent voice suddenly rang in her ear.
“Pei Ran, go to yesterday’s mining tunnel immediately.”
No matter the situation before, he had always remained calm—even when patrol spheres opened fire point-blank, his tone never wavered. This abrupt shift in demeanor meant something serious had happened.
With Team Leader Li absent today—possibly lured away as a diversion—Pei Ran suspected Xing Wuxian and his group were up to something again.
She immediately dropped her backpack, rushed to the fissure, and descended swiftly while asking W, “What’s wrong? Why?”
W replied, “I’ve found something in the tunnel. I need your help.”
Pei Ran pressed, “What is it?”
Silence. W didn’t answer.
Soon, she reached the crevice she’d slipped through yesterday.
W’s evasiveness suggested no minor matter. Instead of entering directly, Pei Ran paused, listening intently.
The tunnel was dead silent.
She activated Green Light to track the marker on the small robot again—it wasn’t nearby but deeper inside.
Moving cautiously, she crept forward in a low crouch, avoiding her wristband’s light.
The darkness was near-total, save for faint illumination from the fissure. As her eyes adjusted, the tunnel’s interior came into focus.
It was empty. Nothing was there.
Pei Ran pressed herself against the wall, quietly advancing a few steps while calling out inwardly, “W?”
Still no response.
A short distance ahead, she suddenly glimpsed a figure standing in the tunnel.
The person was burly—a full head taller than Pei Ran, with broad shoulders, dressed like a civilian—just standing there in the darkness, silent.
But Pei Ran felt it instinctively: He was watching her.
This was a trap.
In that split second, she understood. The voice in her ear, though identical, wasn’t W’s.
Transmitting Neta waves was a function—not exclusive to W. Someone knew about her mental link with W, mimicked his voice, and lured her here.
Pei Ran turned to flee.
Yet the man was already closing in from behind.
A rush of air swept toward the back of her skull. She ducked, spun around, and grabbed for his arm with her mechanical hand.
The moment she made contact, she knew he was no pushover. He twisted away fluidly, evading her grip.
They exchanged rapid blows.
Her fingertips registered hardness—both his arms were rigid, not human limbs. Mechanical prosthetics, fully modified.
This wouldn’t be easy.
He wielded no weapons, but his hands were weapons, lethal in their own right.
Yet his strikes held restraint. He wasn’t aiming to kill—just subdue and capture.
The reason was obvious.
Her assailant had to be Xing Wuxian. He wanted her alive, still obsessed with one question: What were Shige Ye’s last words?
Pei Ran dodged another attack and summoned the Green Light in her mind.
But something was wrong. Green Light No. 1, well-rested and freshly “fed,” lay dormant.
It didn’t stir.
In the midst of the struggle, she checked the others.
No. 4 had been active earlier when tracking the marker outside—now it too was unresponsive. No. 3 showed no signs of life.
Their state was unmistakable: It was as if she’d been fitted with another suppressor wristband.
But the suppressor wristband had already been removed.
It wasn’t the wristband—it had to be this place. This tunnel had been tampered with. Something was deeply wrong here. Someone had gone to great lengths to set her up.
This was outside Black Well, deep in the mines. No one else around. If she fell into their hands now, it was over.
Pei Ran’s mind cleared, and her fighting style shifted abruptly.
Originally, she had just been looking for an opening to escape back to Black Well’s entrance. Now, she stopped running entirely.
Her strikes turned ruthless, aimed at vital points, pressing forward without mercy—as if possessed by a demon, single-mindedly intent on killing her opponent.
The sudden change didn’t go unnoticed. The big man immediately sensed it.
No matter how strong he was, this kind of fight-to-the-death ferocity was unnerving. Her sheer viciousness forced him back, step by step.
Pei Ran focused, engaging him in close combat.
The big man couldn’t gain the upper hand. In fact, he nearly got taken down a few times. Frustration crept in, and his own attacks grew fiercer.
Pei Ran thought coldly: So much for keeping me alive for your boss, huh?
Then—the big man glanced over his shoulder.
A shrill, piercing noise exploded in Pei Ran’s ears, like a sharp chisel being hammered straight into her eardrums, stabbing into her brain.
Most people, suddenly assaulted by such noise, would either cry out or lose focus.
The big man clearly expected that. He seized the moment, reaching for her throat.
Pei Ran didn’t scream. Didn’t falter. She just felt a flicker of irony:
This world really is a circle of cause and effect.
She’d used this trick on Shige Ye. Now, someone was using it on her.
But that glance had revealed something.
Dodging his grip, she twisted past him and sprinted deeper into the tunnel.
Further from the fissure entrance, the darkness thickened—but after the prolonged struggle, her eyes had adjusted. A few steps in, she saw it.
Another person.
Small, hunched, crouched in a corner where the tunnel turned. A device sat on the ground in front of him.
When he saw Pei Ran abandon his companion and charge straight at him, he jerked his head up in panic.
The screeching noise still tore through her skull. The big man was closing in behind her.
Pei Ran didn’t hesitate.
She seized the skinny man’s throat—and twisted.
The crisp sound of snapping bone echoed unnervingly through the silent tunnel.
The scrawny man’s head lolled at an unnatural angle before his body crumpled to the ground.
In that same instant, the hulking figure behind Pei Ran closed in. Without turning, she dodged his strike, swung her mechanical arm with full force, and smashed it down onto the device in front of the dead man.
A deafening clang rang out.
The shrill noise in her ears cut off abruptly—silence reclaimed the world.
She’d guessed right. This man had been crouched here, operating some kind of Neta-wave emitter. The device had not only blasted that piercing noise into her skull but had likely also mimicked W’s voice.
W was Black Well’s AI. With sufficient access, anyone could replicate his voice files—perfectly identical in tone, though the cadence had been colder, flatter.
Maybe that’s how he normally sounds when talking to others? Pei Ran mused briefly.
After wrecking the emitter, she pivoted smoothly and re-engaged the big man.
Then—W’s voice sounded in her ear again, this time unmistakably real:
“Pei Ran, are you there?”
She blocked a heavy strike, replying between gritted teeth, “Here.”
“I’ve been calling you. When you didn’t answer, I grew concerned.” His tone sharpened. “Your wristband’s signal vanished earlier. It’s back now—you’re in the tunnels again?”
“Mhm.” Pei Ran ducked a swing. “That song you sang after losing our bet—what were the lyrics about?”
“Moonlit fields.” No trace of embarrassment, only steel. “You’re in danger. You needed to verify it’s me.”
This was the real W.
His earlier calls must have been blocked by the emitter. Now that it was destroyed, their connection had restored.
W didn’t hesitate. “I’ll dispatch Black Well’s guards to your location immediately.”
“Not yet.” She barely dodged a fist aimed at her ribs. “I just killed a man. Haven’t disposed of the body—clear self-defense, but it might still raise complications. Best not involve them for now.”
A pause. “What are you doing right now?”
The big man’s fist struck the tunnel wall instead of Pei Ran. Rock dust showered down from the impact.
She answered matter-of-factly: “Trying to kill the other one.”
W: “……”
Pei Ran reached inwardly for Green Light No. 1.
This time, it responded.
So that device didn’t just emit and block Neta-waves—it suppressed the Green Lights too.
If these people were truly Xing Wuxian’s subordinates, it meant the imperial family had also conducted research on the Green Lights—enough to develop a device mimicking the suppressor wristband’s effects.
Now that the device was destroyed, the suppression lifted. Green Light No. 1 finally stirred, lazily materializing in her mind’s eye.
Just as Pei Ran was about to command it to write, a figure emerged behind the hulking man.
The small silver robot.
Bent low, it crept silently from the depths of the tunnel, holding a noose in its hands—a rope loop dangling a small black box with a blinking red light.
Stealthily, it closed in behind the big man, then lunged with startling speed, yanking the noose over his head and around his neck.
Distracted by his companion’s death and the destroyed device, the man was solely focused on Pei Ran. He froze, caught off guard by the ambush.
The weighted box hung heavily against his back. Unable to see it, he fumbled blindly to tear the rope away.
When he finally pulled it free and saw the blinking device, realization struck—but too late.
The robot didn’t hesitate. It seized Pei Ran’s arm and yanked her into a frantic sprint down the tunnel.
BOOM—
The detonation behind them was deafening—a visceral blend of shredded metal and flesh.
Pei Ran glanced back.
In the blast’s glare, the big man had disintegrated. Not even a shadow remained.
Today’s signal tests near the fissure involved dormant yet volatile unauthorized frequencies. Every other small black box in the area had already detonated—only this one, stolen earlier, had escaped destruction.
The robot, a seasoned thief, knew the testing intervals down to the second. It had activated the device with flawless timing.
The moment the signal transmission began, the box became a bomb—launching the big man straight into oblivion.