Pei Ran returned to the dormitory. As soon as she entered, she saw Ren holding a cardboard box, waiting at the doorway.
It reported, “Master, our energy blocks have been purchased. Also, this box was delivered today. They said it contains replacement parts for the loyal believer S581-type intelligent robot.”
The parts for Xingkong had arrived.
Ren held the box, staring eagerly at Pei Ran. Unusually, it didn’t rush her to shower and change clothes first.
Yesterday, it had been thoroughly frightened by Xingkong’s black screen and desperately wanted her to fix Xingkong completely. It had probably been waiting for her at home all day.
Pei Ran opened the box.
Inside the cardboard box were two sets of front chest panels, along with the replacement parts Xingkong needed. W had only glanced at it yesterday before pulling up the parts list, and everything had been delivered today.
Ren’s repair was relatively simple. Pei Ran first replaced its front chest panel, then sat down on the spot and had Xingkong come over, lying on its back in front of her so she could replace its parts.
When she finally closed Xingkong’s new panel, Ren cautiously asked, “Is everything fixed?”
Pei Ran nodded. “Done.”
Ren immediately spun in place. “Everything’s as good as new now!”
It had probably been worried all day, afraid Xingkong would malfunction again, but now it could finally relax.
After spinning, Ren suddenly looked down at Pei Ran.
“Master! Go take a shower now!! How can you sit here all dirty like this?!!”
Pei Ran: “…”
This little robot changed its attitude faster than flipping a page.
Pei Ran stood up, tossed the mechanical spider onto the table, and headed to the bathroom.
Just as she finished showering and stepped out, she heard a muffled explosion-like sound.
“Whoosh—pop—”
Pei Ran’s body tensed instinctively, and she whipped her head around toward the source of the noise.
It was coming from the virtual floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside the window, in the dark night sky, a brilliant burst of golden light exploded with that sound, like a giant flower of light blooming in the air.
Pei Ran had never seen such an explosion in her life. She froze for a moment before suddenly realizing—this wasn’t an explosion at all. It was something special often described in novels—
Ren had already heard the noise and slid over.
It exclaimed, “Oh my! Fireworks!!”
Xingkong also followed, as inexperienced as Pei Ran, its cartoonish big eyes wide and round.
Pei Ran and the two robots—one human and two machines—stood side by side in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, all tilting their heads back with three faces full of astonishment.
The glowing dots that formed the flower of light slowly descended through the air. Before they could fully fade, another bright dot shot into the sky with a whoosh and exploded violently.
This time, it was a giant red flower, its radiant crimson sparks scattering outward in a starburst.
One after another, bright dots soared into the air, bursting into dazzling fireworks that filled the sky.
At some point, the mechanical spider had climbed up Pei Ran’s leg and settled on her shoulder, watching the sky with her.
He hadn’t turned off the camera again.
As if it had rained, the stone pavement of the music square outside was glistening wet, reflecting the kaleidoscopic shadows of the fireworks above. In the virtual world, people in the square were also looking up at the display.
Pei Ran was speechless.
She asked W in her mind: “What holiday is it today? Why are there fireworks?”
W replied calmly: “The ‘Making Pei Ran Happy Festival.'”
This festival name was so long.
Pei Ran asked him: “Can we celebrate this festival every day?”
“I hope so,” W said, then corrected himself, “No—we definitely can.”
The fireworks rose and fell in waves, endlessly varied and dazzling.
Amid the bursts of sound, W said: “Pei Ran, this afternoon, Marshal Vina proposed establishing a new department to investigate and compile a complete list of all individuals with abilities in Black Well within the next few days—a thorough sweep.”
“Also,” he continued, “Li Yin’s status has been upgraded. She’s now a special advisor to Black Well’s FBSMD team—a nominal position with no direct responsibilities. Two non-powered individuals, both close associates of Marshal Vina, have been assigned as the new team leader and deputy leader of the FBSMD Black Well unit, specifically overseeing the management of fused entities within Black Well.”
Pei Ran had expected this.
As a fused entity with abilities, she had single-handedly wiped out the entire provisional decision-making committee and squads of elite soldiers. The terrifying power she displayed had made people wary.
Marshal Vina was now reconsidering how to manage personnel with abilities.
Pei Ran herself had also been promoted—she was now the new Deputy Director of the Special Operations Security Department.
But though the title sounded impressive, it held no real authority. Over the past two days, she hadn’t met a single colleague and had simply been idly following Marshal Vina around.
She said nothing, and W also fell silent. The two of them—one human and one machine—gazed at the fireworks filling the sky, lost in thought.
The display lasted a long time before gradually fading away.
Pei Ran turned to Ren and said, “Pack up all the things we bought, as well as daily necessities like clothes and medicine. Box what can be boxed, bag what can be bagged.”
Ren replied cheerfully, “Got it!”
Then it asked, “Are we packing up because we’re going on the run?”
Pei Ran answered, “Prepare for a rainy day. Better safe than sorry.”
- ••
Black Well.
Day 25 of the Silence.
The lockdown finally ended. Early in the morning, everyone received a notice to return to work as usual.
After a day and two nights of eerie quiet, buses and civilians reappeared on the roads of Black Well.
Pei Ran could finally drive her newly purchased small truck.
Though the vehicle was an antique, its performance was surprisingly good—smooth and responsive, fully charged. It was worth the time she had spent picking it out and the hefty sum of ration coupons she had paid.
As the truck approached Central Square, the traffic ahead suddenly slowed to a crawl.
Pei Ran frowned. “What’s going on? An accident?”
W spoke softly in her ear: “No. Look at the big screen.”
On the towering virtual screen in Central Square, a scene of yellow skies and red earth—the wasteland outside Black Well—was being broadcast.
On the barren red soil stood a row of people, their hands and feet bound.
Pei Ran asked, “What is this?”
W replied, “An execution.”
Pei Ran fell silent for a moment. “Executing those involved in the incident?”
“Yes,” W said calmly. “No trial. Direct execution. Marshal Vina drafted the execution list this morning. All of them are officers under General Eugene and General Delsa who participated in the incident.”
Now that Marshal Vina was making decisions alone, her orders were issued with startling speed—even W was caught off guard.
She was using an iron fist to eliminate opposition.
Pei Ran asked, “Are these all loyalists of Delsa and Eugene?”
“Not necessarily,” W said. “At least, not all of them, by my judgment. Soldiers follow orders. Many were just obeying their superiors. Replacing the commanders would have been enough—there was no need to involve so many.”
It was clear that W, as the Federation’s security agent, also strongly disapproved of such an extensive purge.
Central Square was crowded with vehicles and pedestrians, all silently looking up at the massive virtual screen.
A series of gunshots rang out—unmuffled, their echoes reverberating between the towering skyscrapers, lingering in the air like a relentless aftershock.
Blood pooled across the ground, mixing with the red soil.
The execution was broadcast live, deliberately displayed on Central Square’s largest screen—this was the deterrent effect Marshal Vina wanted.
Pei Ran thought that what Marshal Vina needed now wasn’t absolute power over Black Well, but psychological counseling.
Pei Ran entered Central Tower and arrived at the top-floor command center, where Marshal Vina was already present.
Though she had a private office on the top floor, she rarely used it, preferring to stay in the command center. Even without W’s micro-expression analysis, Pei Ran could tell she was in a good mood.
As expected, it was another day of doing nothing.
Pei Ran wandered over to Qiao Sai to kill time.
Qiao Sai was munching on a piece of bread. Pei Ran’s eyes scanned the screens for W as she casually asked, “Breakfast is just bread?”
Qiao Sai seemed to choke on the bread, coughing twice before replying, “…Yeah. Tough life.”
Only after spotting W on a screen did Pei Ran turn back.
“Huh? What’s wrong with bread?”
The bread from the cafeteria was nothing like the coarse loaves from the mining zone—it was white, soft, and far superior to the black bread of the bunker world.
Qiao Sai glanced at W, who had just emerged from his virtual bedroom and was leisurely adjusting his cuffs.
Qiao Sai hurriedly shook his head. “No, no, I love bread. Absolutely addicted to it.”
“Oh.” Pei Ran pulled up a chair and sat down, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt as she recalled her own lavish breakfast. “Qiao Sai, Ren is your housekeeping bot, right? Do you need it back?”
There was no doubt Ren had been “borrowed” from Qiao Sai by W.
But now that she’d grown attached to Ren, the thought of returning it was a little painful.
Qiao Sai waved his hands. “No need, no need! Keep it. I don’t require its services.”
Pei Ran asked earnestly, “Then who sweeps, cooks, and does chores for you?”
Qiao Sai’s eyes flicked toward the screen before he forced a sincere smile and mumbled, “I have another one… named Chosie.”
Pei Ran nodded and continued chatting idly. “So, did you create W?”
Qiao Sai replied, “Of course not. W was developed by a whole team—led by some real experts. I was just one of the grunts doing the work.”
He added, “But this grunt got lucky. When the Silence broke out, I happened to be at the Ministry of Defense, so I was evacuated to Black Well with them. The others weren’t as fortunate—I doubt they made it.”
He concluded, “So now, the team is just me.”
It was clear that he and W had a close relationship, more like good friends.
On the screen, W settled into an armchair, subtly tilting his head as he watched the two chat animatedly. A playing card suddenly appeared between his fingers.
The card twirled and fluttered effortlessly, like an impatient butterfly flapping its wings.
Qiao Sai noticed and stiffened.
He turned to Pei Ran and said, “I should get back to work. You go ahead and entertain yourself.”
Only then did W tilt his head with a faint smile, whispering in Pei Ran’s ear, “Let him work. How about we continue our card game?”
He still hadn’t had enough of stripping.
Today, while playing cards, Pei Ran kept one ear open, listening to W and the others assigning tasks for managing affairs inside and outside Black Well.
She noticed that his approach to work here differed from how he interacted with her.
Here, he usually presented multiple backup plans at once, letting Marshal Vina choose one herself.
With Pei Ran, he didn’t need to offer options—she typically just asked him to decide on the optimal solution directly.
For example, when planning routes, she never questioned him—she just followed his navigation without a second thought.
She trusted W’s judgment completely and saw no need to waste mental energy or time deliberating.
Marshal Vina, however, was different.
Though she supported the Ministry of Defense’s decision to activate the security agent W, she clearly didn’t fully trust him. Every time, she would first skim through the alternative plans on the screen.
In truth, she often didn’t scrutinize them—she just picked whichever one caught her eye.
Now that she was the sole decision-maker, the process had become alarmingly fast.
Today, their main task was reassigning and appointing military personnel—with so many officers dead, the vacancies needed to be filled.
Pei Ran played a card and silently remarked to W, “Marshal Vina is becoming more and more autocratic.”
On the screen, W—unlike his cold, detached voice in the command center—played a card with a troubled expression.
“I didn’t like the Provisional Decision Committee’s endless debates slowing things down, but this kind of one-man rule is also concerning.”
- ••
Black Well, Underground.
Vertical Plantation, Sector P.
This was the quietest, most remote edge of Black Well’s vertical plantation, close to the western perimeter. Large sections here were still under construction—only the basic support framework had been erected, the ground was uneven and pitted, and the planting racks hadn’t even been installed yet.
Two figures in military uniforms crept out furtively.
Their hair was disheveled, their bodies covered in dust.
The younger of the two nervously looked up at the plantation’s dome. “Are you sure there are no surveillance cameras here?”
“Relax, this area definitely doesn’t have any. They’re short on manpower—right now, they’re busy installing cameras in the Blue Zone. It’ll be days before they get to this sector. I know for a fact.” The older man replied confidently.
He ran his hands along the wall, muttering to himself as if calculating distances in his head.
The younger soldier fretted, “Do we really have to run? The Silence is raging outside. Besides, we’re just technicians. Even if things go south, we shouldn’t be implicated, right?”
“Staying means certain death.”
The older man continued meticulously feeling along the wall.
“Marshal Vina is dead set on purging everyone tied to the Northwestern Military District. So many officers have already been executed—look at Colonel Garman, who headed our research center. A good man, but just because he was personally promoted by General Delsa and had a close relationship with him, he was executed on the spot. Do you think they care if you’re ‘just a technician’?”
The younger man fell silent.
Finally, the older man found the spot he was looking for. He pulled out a palm-sized, deep-blue device from his pocket and pressed it against the wall.
The younger man helped secure it but remained uneasy.
“Will this really work?”
“Of course it will. We were the ones who installed Black Well’s protective shielding in the first place. No one understands it better than I do. This little thing in my hand? It’s the shield’s natural enemy.”
“I’ve done the math. After we disabled the sensors over there, using this to blast through here—if we control the force just right—won’t trigger the alarm system at all. And outside this spot? It connects to the old mining tunnels. One explosion, and we’re out.”
All of Black Well’s exits were now heavily guarded—escape was impossible. If they wanted to flee and save their own lives, they had to carve out a new path themselves.
The older man secured the device and motioned for the younger soldier to step back.
They retreated a safe distance. The older man pressed the detonator.
A muffled boom echoed through the empty space.
The wall collapsed, leaving a hole just under two meters tall.
Simultaneously, a shimmering blue energy barrier flickered into existence over the breach.
This was the protective barrier enveloping Black Well like an eggshell—originally hidden within the walls, now exposed.
As the specialized explosive detonated, the blue energy wall rippled faintly, its surface undulating like water before stabilizing. A breach had formed in the barrier.
The older man said, “See? Perfectly controlled. Let’s go. Once we’re in the old mining tunnels, no more talking.”
The younger man nodded in understanding.
Staring at the torn opening in the blue barrier, he hesitated. “But doesn’t this leave Black Well with an unsealed breach?”
The older man scoffed. “Is your survival more important, or worrying about that? We’ve done nothing wrong, yet we’re being hunted for no reason. Leaving them with just this tiny hole is already merciful.”
The two squeezed through the breach, their figures vanishing into the darkness of the old mining tunnels outside.
The small tear in the protective barrier remained—an insignificant puncture in this forgotten corner, like a tiny, unnoticed hole in the hull of a massive ship.