The next morning, the war room reconvened. This time, the mission was clear: find the key.
Though Feng Chen had temporarily stalled the timer on the bomb, traces of VX nerve agent lingered in the air circulation system. Without the key, everyone was still as good as dead.
Then Security Chief Wan Youfu dropped a bombshell.
"You claim it wasn't Yun Yi—but insist there's an inside man? Who's to say you're not deflecting? You're a ghost with no past, wielding 'indestructible gold' tech. Maybe you're the killer!"
Fifty-something and a veteran of Boss Hong's inner circle, Wan oversaw the corporation's security systems—and had never gotten along with Liu Yuan. His accusation drew nods from several board members. After all, Feng Chen was an enigma.
Feng didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled and called up a holographic energy fluctuation graph. "Observe this timestamp: right before Boss Hong's vitals flatlined, the meditation chamber's quantum encryption layer spiked with a 0.3-second anomaly. Not an external breach—more like someone with top-tier clearance spawned a 'dark room,' scrubbing all logs."
His gaze locked onto Wan. "Chief Wan, records show you were the last to meet Hong in that chamber. Half an hour later, it activated 'full bio-lockdown'—a protocol you maintained. Theoretically, even a fly couldn't get in."
Wan paled. "I—I was just reporting security updates. Post-meeting, the chamber sealed. How was I to know—?"
"I'm not calling you the killer," Feng cut in. "But this 'absolute security' system? If the perpetrator had a master key—higher even than your clearance—they could erase their tracks like deleting a file. Far scarier than a physical locked room. Because in the digital realm? They're invisible."
He turned to Liu Changfeng, eyes sharp. "Liu, recall when you got that anonymous letter? Right when Hong's brainwaves spiked erratically. The escape route it suggested dodged international security checkpoints. You arrived in Shanghai a day before his assassination… Coincidences too precise—like lines of prewritten code. We're not dealing with a traditional hitman. We're facing a 'slaughter algorithm'—a digital ghost hiding in the system."
A chill settled over the room. If even the systems were compromised, every move they made might be under surveillance.
Post-Meeting: The Jade Mountain Fortress
Feng decided to visit Mingkong Security Base, hidden deep in Jade Mountain. Run by Du Moming, it housed cutting-edge tech—and possibly clues about the "Source Point" and Yun Yi. Chang Jiu and Xia Xiang insisted on tagging along. Chang claimed connections to Du; Xia just wanted to keep her safe.
Their SUV crawled toward the mountain. Two hours from Shanghai, the forested terrain was brutal. As they neared the base, Feng slammed the brakes.
"What the hell?" Chang craned forward—no roadblocks, no guards. Just empty air.
Feng pulled out a multi-spectrum detector. "Microwave shielding field. See how the light distorts?"
Indeed—the atmosphere shimmered like heat waves. Xia's smart glasses beeped: "High-intensity directional microwaves. 2.45GHz frequency—microwave oven tier, but enough to vaporize flesh at 500°C."
"Du Moming's signature move," Feng smirked, stepping out. "His perimeter's laced with these. Unauthorized? You're kebab meat."
Three steps in, rustling. Black-clad guards emerged, sonic rifles aimed. "Halt. No entry without clearance!"
Chang rushed forward. "I'm Chang Jiu. My father's Chang San Ye of Changping Capital. Du Moming invited us!"
A guard shoved a voiceprint scanner at her. "State your name."
"I'm Chang Jiu. Here for Du Moming."
The device shrieked: "Voiceprint mismatch. Intrusion attempt confirmed!"
Rifles raised. Xia stepped in front of Chang, fingers brushing her custom stun baton—Shang family tech, sonic-resistant. But Feng held her back, striding forward.
"Relax. Just here to talk."
The guards fired. Sonic booms slammed the air—but Feng sidestepped, tapping his feet in a rhythmic pattern.
Weird. The blasts always grazed him. Worse, the guards' aim jittered.
Xia's eyes widened. "He's disrupting the underground fiber sensors—vibrating the ground at frequencies that flood their detection grid with noise."
Then—Du Moming's voice crackled from a speaker: "Stand down. Guests of mine."
Guards lowered weapons. Du emerged from the trees, tailored suit immaculate, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Apologies for the misunderstanding. Wind… Mr. Feng, right? The 'indestructible gold' prodigy."
Feng shook his hand—zing. A subtle electric tingle. Du's ring? Testing biometrics? Or marking him?