As soon as Pei Ran had this thought, Green Light No. 1, as if finally receiving a pardon, bounded over joyfully.
Two clusters of green light—gone in two gulps.
Pei Ran guided it into her mental field of vision and wrote:
[Fracture of index finger and wrist fully repaired]
After finishing, the green light unexpectedly leaped back again—it could still continue.
Upgrading had become increasingly difficult lately, but this time, after devouring just two clusters of corrupted green light, it successfully leveled up.
Pei Ran tested it—now she could write two more characters. It could now handle a total of thirteen characters.
Writing more precisely, with stronger specificity, would likely make it more effective. Pei Ran erased and rewrote:
[Fracture of left index finger and wrist fully repaired.]
Period.
Right before her eyes, a miraculous change occurred.
On her left hand, the subcutaneous bruising faded, the swollen areas rapidly receded and flattened. Most crucially, the moment she finished the period, the pain vanished instantly.
Disappeared without a trace, as if a miracle had happened.
Pei Ran flexed her wrist. It moved freely—
As if it had never been broken.
She then clenched her fist—the index finger bent and extended normally, its functionality completely restored.
The mechanical spider, which had been quietly perched on her shoulder, not daring to touch her arm, now finally crept forward a few steps, settling on her forearm to carefully observe her wrist and fingers.
But just like last time at the royal estate, when it had witnessed firsthand the anesthesia wearing off and her miraculously standing back up, it asked nothing.
The mechanical spider looked for a while, then took a few more steps forward, lightly tapping her wrist with its claws as if checking whether her injury had truly healed.
Finally, it moved forward again, climbing onto her left hand. It meticulously examined her index finger with its claws before pressing tightly against her finger and settling down.
“Better?” he said by her ear.
“Mm,” Pei Ran replied.
He said, “That Hive Technology I mentioned last time—the biotech company under Song Wan’s family—has all kinds of prosthetics. If, by any chance, it can’t be healed next time, don’t worry. We’ll find a way to get you a new bionic limb.”
Pei Ran didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—she already had one metal arm and really wasn’t keen on replacing another.
Green Light No. 1, as if exhausted from the effort, immediately went to rest.
It had already proven its healing abilities. Perhaps in the future, she wouldn’t even need medication—it might be able to cure the rejection reaction caused by the mechanical arm. She could test that when the opportunity arose.
Maybe one day, it could even regrow a brand-new, normal right arm for her.
It seemed capable of many things—as long as it kept leveling up.
Pei Ran gripped the mechanical spider and walked toward the small truck.
W asked, “Heading back to Central Tower now?”
Pei Ran replied, “No, I want to go back to the dorm first. I’m worried Yu He’s people might search there too.”
As soon as she started the car, W said, “Pei Ran, the Public Safety Bureau just received a report from Ren.”
As expected.
W knew what she was worried about and quickly added, “Ren and Xingkong are fine. Two people showed up, left quickly, and they were forced into hibernation mode for a while. They’re now checking what was stolen.”
W suggested, “Pei Ran, since Ren and the others are fine and Team Leader Li has already arrived, I recommend you go to Central Tower first before heading home.”
Pei Ran understood his meaning. With Yu He’s death and suspicion hanging over her today, it was better to make an appearance at the office.
Back at Black Well, the guard at the gate greeted her, “Back so soon?”
Pei Ran peeled off the tape. “Yeah, it was a simple job—just calibrating some equipment. Took a minute.”
This time, she proactively extended her wrist, letting the soldier fasten the suppressor bracelet smoothly. The ease of the motion was downright refreshing.
Returning to Central Tower and reaching the 33rd floor, Pei Ran stepped inside and saw the empty office. Team Leader Li sat alone at one of the workstations in the outer area, clutching a thermos, her expression troubled.
The FBSMD Black Well team was already understaffed, and now two more had died on this mission. If this kept up, she’d soon be a leader without a team.
Noticing Pei Ran enter, Team Leader Li raised her brows. “You’re here.”
She said, “My luck’s been awful today—left early in the morning, got stuck in a massive traffic jam, lost my suppressor bracelet. Luckily, there was a spare in the office. Saw you took the equipment calibration assignment—glad you were around.”
Pei Ran handed back the truck keys.
Team Leader Li took them absentmindedly, frowning. “I read your report on the mission to Outlying Island. Went to see Abu at the hospital last night—she’s doing alright, should be discharged in a couple of days. But Lu Ming and Ueno Tōru… I really didn’t expect…”
Seems she’d heard everything from Abu.
Team Leader Li frowned, taking a sip of warm water. “Black Well is full of power struggles and scheming. I think it’s best if our FBSMD stays out of it as much as possible.”
She said, “From now on, with only Abu and the two of us left in the team, we shouldn’t take on any more rescue missions. Let’s just stay here, pick up whatever odd jobs others can’t handle—that sounds just fine to me.”
Amidst the turbulent undercurrents of Black Well, Team Leader Li had decided to take a step back.
Team Leader Li added, “I saw a request from the Public Safety Bureau—they need help at the vertical farm. Said there might be a frenzied fused entity. We’ll head over later.”
Pei Ran knew W had already erased the records of her accepting that mission earlier that morning.
She had no intention of going back but simply replied, “Okay.”
Suddenly, she pretended to check her suppressor bracelet and abruptly stood up. “Team Leader Li, I just got a message—someone broke into my dorm. I need to go check.”
“Huh?” Team Leader Li waved her thermos dismissively. “Security in Black Well keeps getting worse. Go ahead. No need to come back today.”
This job was becoming more and more laid-back.
When Pei Ran returned to her Yellow Zone dorm and swiped open the door, she was immediately greeted by Ren’s tearful face.
Its cartoonish features were pitifully scrunched up, its oversized eyes brimming with digitally rendered tears. “Master! We were robbed!”
Pei Ran changed her shoes. “Someone came in and ransacked the place?”
“Yes! They used some kind of remote—no idea where it came from—to force me and Xingkong into hibernation mode, then turned everything upside down,” Ren said. “Public Safety officers already came by to investigate. Look!”
Its face flickered, replaced by a photo of the crime scene—the entire dorm in complete disarray, belongings strewn everywhere.
Ren added, “But Xingkong and I have almost finished cleaning up.”
Now, the place was spotless, as if nothing had happened.
Pei Ran asked, “Where’s Xingkong?”
Xingkong poked its head out from the kitchen and said solemnly, “I inventoried the meal packs. Thankfully, they didn’t take a single one.”
Pei Ran almost laughed.
She motioned to Ren. “Come here. The thing I gave you—?”
Ren glanced back at Xingkong, then pulled its foot out of the vacuum unit and whispered, “Still here.”
The storage device was hidden in the gap between Ren’s foot and the vacuum’s docking port—a trick inspired by Ren’s earlier gold ore concealment.
Ren then popped open a small compartment on its belly, rummaged inside, and pulled out the two pieces of gold ore.
“See? They found nothing. Total losses from this robbery: zero.”
To Pei Ran’s eyes, the dorm was already immaculate, but Ren insisted on tidying up again while Xingkong prepared lunch.
After lunch, Pei Ran buried herself in drawing practice as usual when she heard Ren command, “Xingkong, we need to make a trip to the distribution center. We’re running low on meal packs.”
Pei Ran immediately set down her pen. “I’ll go too.”
So the trio—one human and two machines—headed out together.
On the way, they ran into Zhuang Mian and Nuo Nuo.
Nuo Nuo was holding her aunt’s hand, her eyes red and puffy. Pei Ran could guess why.
Sure enough, after exchanging a few pleasantries, Zhuang Mian said, “Nuo Nuo’s mechanical puppy suddenly opened the door by itself last night and ran off. It still hasn’t come back. I took half a day off to help her put up missing posters everywhere.”
That dog was probably gone for good.
Still, Pei Ran patted Nuo Nuo’s head. “AIs are smart. Maybe the puppy will find its way back on its own someday.”
The distribution center wasn’t far from where Basserway had staged his publicity stunt last time, located on the ground floor of a dormitory building. Inside, a single busy staff member in volunteer-gray uniform was working.
The moment the worker spotted Ren, they greeted, “Little robot, back again? Here for more meal packs today?”
“Correct. I’ve already made my selections,” Ren declared solemnly, its face flashing a procurement list. “All with the freshest production dates. I’ll inspect each bag personally.”
The worker chuckled and nodded, then suddenly noticed Pei Ran behind the two machines. Their eyes widened in recognition.
“You’re… Pei Ran? Here to collect supplies in person?”
Clearly, they’d also seen her on Central Plaza’s giant screens.
Pei Ran stepped forward. “Yes. I wanted to ask—aside from food, can we exchange ration coupons for anything else here?”
The worker pulled up a virtual list. “Of course. We have all kinds of daily necessities, quite a variety. What are you looking for?”
Pei Ran asked, “Do you have vehicles?”
“Uh—”
The request seemed to throw the worker off—they stammered briefly before recovering. “Actually… I think we do… Hold on, let me check. Heard the factory just refurbished a batch recently, freshly added to inventory.”
They closed the daily necessities list and scrolled until a new catalog appeared.
Antique vehicles filled the screen, each with detailed specs and prices.
Pei Ran skimmed the list and turned to Ren. “How many ration coupons do we have?”
Ren puffed out its chest proudly. “Seventy-two thousand, five hundred and twenty-eight.”
In a place where a loaf of bread costs one ration coupon and a pack of pre-made meal kits goes for five, this amount was indeed substantial—the Federation had been exceedingly generous to its first-class medal recipients.
Every vehicle on the list was within her budget. Pei Ran studied them carefully before pointing to one. “This one, please.”
The mechanical spider was also examining the list. W’s voice sounded in her ear: “Why buy another small truck?”
Pei Ran had grown quite accustomed to driving the little truck these past few days. “Because it’s convenient—carries cargo, fits passengers. Perfect.”
This was the first time the staff member had processed a vehicle purchase. After some flustered maneuvering, they finally registered the transaction in the system.
Even after acquiring the truck, plenty of funds remained.
Pei Ran asked, “Do you have any long-shelf-life food items? And daily necessities—I’d like to see the list. Also, those water storage barrels—a few of those. Will stocking up affect supplies for others?”
The worker, who had never seen anyone spend so lavishly before, widened their eyes. “Our reserves are sufficient, so that won’t be an issue…”
Pei Ran said decisively, “Then I’ll take it all.”
Food and daily supplies could be collected immediately. Pei Ran prioritized compact, non-perishable items, yet they still piled up against the dorm wall.
Ren and Xingkong stacked the cans neatly, supermarket-display style.
Ren puzzled, “Master, why cash out all the ration coupons?”
“Ration coupons only become ‘supplies’ when exchanged,” Pei Ran said. “Otherwise, they’re just worthless paper.”
Ren mulled this over before having an epiphany: “That’s actually so true!”
Only W saw through her: her near-escape from Black Well that morning had left its mark. Buying a vehicle and stockpiling supplies? Clearly, the aftermath of her aborted flight lingered.
He said, “Pei Ran, I’ve added a new feature to the virtual reality system. Try clicking the panel.”
Beyond the virtual floor-to-ceiling window, the weather was clear. Pei Ran glanced out—W’s balcony stood empty.
She opened the control panel on the adjacent wall and found a new rectangular icon.
A tap summoned a lengthy terms-of-service agreement. Pei Ran scrolled to the bottom and hit Confirm without hesitation.
The window remained unchanged.
But Ren, busy with the cans, suddenly went, “Huh?”
Pei Ran turned to see the blank wall beside the entryway seemingly push forward 30-40 centimeters. Embedded in this new virtual partition was a door.
Its style clashed utterly with the dorm’s standard-issue gray metal security door—painted cream-white, its surface grained with faux-wood texture.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Someone rapped lightly from the other side.
Pei Ran froze for a moment, then quickly strode over and gripped the virtual doorknob.
The doorknob was just an illusion, with no physical sensation, but with a twist, the door still swung open.
Outside the door stood a person.
The moment she saw clearly, even though she had mentally prepared herself, Pei Ran’s heart still skipped a beat.
W was leaning against the doorway, right there, so close, tilting his head slightly, eyes brimming with amusement as he looked at her.
It was far too close.
He wasn’t on her wristband screen, nor was he on the opposite balcony—there were only thirty or forty centimeters between them, close enough to reach out and touch.
Close enough to see the weave of the fabric on his clothes, close enough to make out the contours of his Adam’s apple and the fine texture of his skin, close enough to count each of his eyelashes and see the reflection of herself in his eyes.
“What are you looking at?” he spoke.
He was slightly taller than she had imagined, and seeing him in person was far, far more overwhelming than just on a screen.
Pei Ran averted her gaze, finally taking the chance to look properly outside the door.
This door opened on the second floor, on the exterior of the small building. A retro-style black cast-iron wall lamp was embedded in the adjacent wall, and outside was an open-air cast-iron railing staircase, matching the style of the balcony.
The stairs led down to the street outside, paved with neat square stone slabs, just like the music fountain plaza.
W had left his home, crossed the music fountain plaza, climbed the stairs, and come to find her.
For some inexplicable reason, Pei Ran’s eyes stung slightly.
Trying to distract herself, she reached out and poked his chest with her finger. “Can we interact?”
W caught her finger in his hand. “How do you want to interact?”
His hand had no tactile sensation, but visually, it looked exactly as if he were holding her finger.