The more the enemy opposes us, the more it proves we are doing the right thing

The black Hongqi L5 sped along a highway on Beijing's outskirts. Outside the windows, poplars rushed backward, their shadows slicing the afternoon sunlight into strips.

He leaned against the back seat with his eyes closed, yet the string of scarlet numbers in the upper-right corner of his vision remained crystal clear.

[4078:02:15]

In the front passenger seat, Shi Qiang was arguing with the young military officer driving.

"Just crack the window open. Let some air in—I'm suffocating."

He fished a crumpled pack of Hongtashan cigarettes from his battered leather jacket, put one between his lips, and left it unlit, simply holding it there dry.

"Captain Shi, regulations."

The officer kept his eyes straight ahead, his voice as hard as the car's bulletproof glass.

"What kind of bullshit regulation is that? Is smoking one cigarette going to leak state secrets?"

Shi Qiang muttered as he stuffed the cigarette away again.

Zhang Qi paid no attention to the quiet exchange in the front.

He merely looked out the window, watching the monotonous scenery shift from the city's skyscrapers to suburban woods, before finally merging into a sprawling complex enclosed by high walls.

The car stopped before a heavy iron gate. The guards checked their credentials, and the gate slid open without a sound.

The place resembled a forgotten compound, or a government guesthouse from another era, carrying a Soviet-style solemnity that brooked no question.

At last, Zhang Qi followed Shi Qiang and the others into a large courtyard with no sign on its entrance.

The air was thick with the scorched smell of overheated servers, instant noodle seasoning packets, and the sour sweat of men who had pulled several all-nighters.

Dozens of computers had been scattered haphazardly across makeshift tables. With no room left on the tables, several silver-gray tower servers had