Calm and Composed (Bonus for 600 Monthly Votes)

Almost at the same time, in the deepest part of the alley where the back door of the restaurant was located.

The stench of rotting fish entrails, urine, seawater, and some kind of chemical agent swirled together, stirred by the cold March wind, and poured into one's nasal cavity.

Darnell pinched his nose with two fingers, breathing through his mouth, his brow furrowed as if stitched together with thread.

"Bro, how much longer are we standing here?"

He didn't look at Lin An, his gaze fixed on the back wall of the four-story building at the end of the alley.

The back of the Black Sea Seafood Restaurant was even uglier than the front; the walls were covered in messy graffiti, the fire escape was rusted, and several trash cans were lined up against the base of the wall, one of which had a crooked lid, revealing bulging black trash bags inside.

Lin An stood beside him, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, his posture as relaxed as if he were waiting for a bus.

"What's the rush?"

His face was calm, his tone steady, and his gaze rested on the building opposite, though his attention was not entirely in reality.

At the edge of his vision, the Bullet Screen was flowing faster than usual, the text drifting past the corner of his eyes like small, colorful fish.

[Streamer, I've taken the screenshots, get ready.]

[Here they come, I've organized that last batch of screenshots.]

[I took twelve, from every angle.]

[I have the interior ones, I just controlled the Crow to go in and snap them.]

[Are you guys devils? How did you manage to capture that?]

Lin An saw the donation list update. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and reached into the inside of his jacket, as if retrieving something from an inner pocket, and pulled out a stack of images donated by the Bullet Screen.

Over a dozen of them. He held them in his hand, flipping through them one by one.

The first one, an exterior shot of the front of the restaurant, taken from a high angle across the street, Crow's perspective.

The second, the interior of the first floor.

Over a dozen red-and-white checkered tablecloths, the wall behind the bar covered in wine labels, and a glass bottle with plastic flowers sitting next to the cash register. The lighting was dim, with only a single pendant lamp lit above the bar.

The third, the other side of the bar, the double-swing spring doors leading to the kitchen, with a circular glass window on the door.

The fourth, inside the kitchen, the image showing stainless steel workstations, a rack hung with frying pans, a massive freezer, and anti-slip mats covering the floor.

Lin An flipped through them one by one.

The Bullet Screen was still discussing.

[There's better stuff coming, wait a second, I'm working on a 3D model of the interior.]

[Modeling? Are you serious?]

[Idle hands, might as well help the streamer out.]

[I'm in too, I'm familiar with architectural structures.]

Lin An didn't participate in the discussion, continuing to flip through the pictures.

The fifth, the stairwell.

The sixth, the second-floor hall, a heavy oak desk, and a man sitting in a high-backed leather chair, appearing calm and composed, but the high-definition image captured the sweat on his forehead clearly.

[This guy should be Sergei.]

Bald, wide face, thick neck, dark turtleneck sweater.

Although he was Ukrainian, he looked very much like a Russian.

Lin An paused on this image for a moment, then continued flipping down.

The eighth through the twelfth, interior shots from various angles, hallways, the stairs leading to the third floor, and several closed doors.

After finishing the last one, Lin An tucked the pictures back into his jacket, his face calm, and began to close his eyes to rest.

The back door of the restaurant was right in front, with a camera above it that would capture anyone who approached.

The donation list flashed again.

[Here it is, the structural diagram, a sketch reverse-engineered from the screenshots, make do with it.]

[That's sloppy, brother, the proportions are wrong.]

[Wait, I'll draw one in CAD.]

[CAD is too slow, I'll hand-draw it and snap a photo for you.]

Lin An pulled a square-folded piece of paper from his jacket. He unfolded it, reading it by the faint light at the end of the alley.

A pencil-drawn floor plan. The four floors were drawn separately, each room marked with a box, brief notes on the side, and dimensions and proportions marked with numbers.

The lines on the drawing were clean and sharp, clearly the work of an expert.

His gaze started from the first floor and moved up level by level.

First floor: Dining area, bar, kitchen, restroom, storage room, back door.

A note specifically read... "There is a mezzanine in the storage room, suspected hidden room, dimensions do not match the thickness of the outer wall."

Second floor: Hall, office, bedroom, restroom, balcony.

Sergei's location was circled in red.

Third floor: three rooms, one bathroom, one storage room.

There was a note: "Likely quarters for subordinates; internal structure not fully confirmed."

Fourth floor: two rooms, one terrace, marked: "Purpose unknown, possibly vacant or a warehouse."

Basement...

Lin An's gaze rested on the bottom-most diagram.

The structure here was far more complex than the floors above.

A main space was divided into four areas: "Finance Room," "Armory," "Control Room," and an unlabeled empty room.

At the end of a corridor extending from the main space, a dashed line was drawn with a question mark beside it: "Suspected secret passage, direction estimated to be northeast, exit possibly in the adjacent block."

There were smaller notes in the bottom right corner of the blueprint.

"Armory inferred from metal boxes on the floor in screenshots, dimensions approx. 2m×3m, interior condition unseen."

"Control room has surveillance equipment, at least four screens, covering the first-floor entrance, stairwell, second-floor corridor, and back door."

"Finance room has a safe, brand and model unknown."

"Basement has an independent ventilation system, exhaust vent located in the building's back alley."

"Secret passage entrance suspected to be behind the wall at the end of the corridor, opening mechanism unknown."

Lin An folded the blueprint and tucked it back into the inside pocket of his jacket along with the screenshots.

The Bullet Screen was still scrolling.

[Streamer, a reminder for you.]

[The people inside aren't ordinary thugs.]

[The screenshot of the third-floor window from earlier—someone's standing posture is off. Ordinary people shift their weight to one leg, and their shoulders tilt when relaxed.]

[But that person is standing perfectly straight, weight centered between both feet, shoulders level. That's a stance only someone with long-term military training would have.]

[When his arms hang naturally, his palms aren't pressed against his thighs; they're slightly away from his body, ready to draw something at any moment.]

[It's not just one; the guy next to the kitchen freezer is also suspicious.]

[Sergei's men are all veterans. Just keep that in mind, streamer.]

Lin An nodded slightly. He had already guessed this information, but having it confirmed made him even more prepared.

[Also, that empty room in the basement.]

[I noticed it too; it's different from the other three, no purpose labeled.]

[The exterior facade screenshot shows that window is a size smaller than the others. The streamer's position is a bit far, and my lens can't cut in to see inside.]

[It's either a storage closet or a place to hold people.]

[By the way, streamer, the hidden room on the first floor is a mezzanine in the storage area; it's likely an arms cache.]

[Not necessarily in the mezzanine; the mezzanine might just be the entrance, and the real armory could be in the basement or on the second floor.]

[Can't see weapons in the screenshots; they've all been stowed away.]

[No kidding, who would leave their arsenal out in the open?]

[Still, based on the mezzanine's dimensions, the capacity is significant—at least enough for a dozen long guns.]

Darnell's voice interrupted Lin An's reading.

"Bro, you've been staring at those papers for a while now."

He leaned in, lowering his voice, his tone a mix of curiosity and unease.

"What did you figure out?"

Lin An turned to look at him, his expression calm.

"Inside the restaurant."

"What's in there?"

Lin An summarized it in a way Darnell could understand.

"There's a hidden armory on the first floor. In the basement, there's a safe, a surveillance room, a room for guns, a secret passage, and an empty room with an unknown purpose.

The boss lives on the second floor, about a dozen former soldiers live on the third, and I don't know what the fourth floor is for."

Darnell was silent for about three seconds.

"So, you just looked at a few pieces of paper and saw through this entire building from the inside out."

"Pretty much."

"You even spotted a secret passage."

"It was drawn on the blueprint."

Darnell opened his mouth, closed it again, and then reached up to make the sign of the cross on his forehead.

"Bro, do you know what you look like right now? Like the kind of person my mom talks about... the kind who can see through walls."

"A wizard?"

"No, not a wizard. I mean the kind of... forget it, never mind. I'm scaring myself just saying it."

He lowered his hands and took a deep breath.

"So what do we do next? Charge in? Or are you waiting to conjure up a few more sheets of paper?"

"You wait here for me. I'm going in."

Lin An's tone was steady as he flipped his hand, producing a Glock and a walkie-talkie to hand to Darnell.

"This is our retreat route. If something goes wrong, I'll pull back here, and I'll be counting on you.

If it's truly necessary, I'll contact you via the walkie-talkie... remember, your codename is Aodebiao, and mine is Banana."

"Understood... bro, are you sure you don't need me to go in with you?"

Darnell's tone was hesitant, but his expression was resolute, as if he had made a firm decision.

"I might be a coward, but I'm in good shape. I can at least take a few bullets for you..."

[Speaking of taking bullets, streamer, I'm gifting you a bulletproof vest and ceramic plates, go ahead and claim them.]

[Catch this, streamer, heavy-duty bulletproof vest, NIJ Level IV, with ceramic plates.]

[I'll chip in one too, just in case you can't fit into the first one, you'll have a spare.]

[Hey, don't all gift the same thing, I'll get a helmet.]

[Helmet covered, I'm providing the tactical vest.]

[Then I'll provide the bulletproof plates.]

Despite the request not to repeat items, a full set of five heavy armors was assembled amidst the dense Bullet Screen.

Lin An reached into the air in front of him and began to extract the gifts.

The first vest was black, with ceramic plates inserted into the front and back, thickened collars and shoulders, and quick-release buckles on both sides.

When the entire set was pulled out, it was so heavy his arm sagged; it weighed at least fifteen kilograms.

The second item was a matching tactical vest, stitched with magazine pouches and utility bags.

The third was a Kevlar helmet, dark gray, complete with a suspension system and chin strap.

He weighed the three items in his hands before handing them all to Darnell.

Darnell didn't take them.

He stared at the pile of gear in Lin An's hands, his eyes wide as if someone were prying his eyelids open with their fingers.

"What the f***, bro, I know you're a wizard, but I didn't expect you to be able to conjure this stuff too!"

"It was in my coat."

"Your coat couldn't possibly fit a bulletproof vest."

"It could."

"It couldn't."

"It could."

Darnell reached out with his free hand and pressed against Lin An's coat.

It was an ordinary black trench coat, not thick at all; pressing down, he could clearly feel the outline of the stack of blueprints inside. There was clearly no fifteen-kilogram bulletproof vest in there.

He pulled his hand back and fell silent for two seconds.

"OK."

"Put it on."

Darnell froze for a moment.

"For me?"

"That's right."

"Bro, you're the one going in..."

"I can't wear it, it's too heavy."

[Holy crap, I didn't think about that.]

[It's fine, I have a light bulletproof vest, lightweight and flexible, can stop pistol rounds.]

"No need."

Lin An's tone was steady, directed at both the Bullet Screen and Darnell.

"What matters most for me right now is agility and speed; defense is secondary. I'll either be unscathed or I'll be dead, so there's no need for armor.

Alright, Darnell, you hold the line here. I'm going over to play."

The basement surveillance room was small, two meters by three meters, windowless, with soundproofing foam plastered onto the walls.

The air here was thick, permeated with the smells of machine oil, cigarettes, and sweat.

Four LCD screens were embedded side-by-side in the wall directly facing the door, displaying black-and-white footage from different angles.

Marco sat on a second-hand office chair with his feet propped up on the desk, the soles of his boots less than twenty centimeters from the screens.

An unlit cigarette was pinched between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, having been toyed with for nearly five minutes.

The rule in the control room was no smoking.

Igor said the surveillance equipment was sensitive to smoke, and accumulated tar would affect heat dissipation.

Marco thought this was pure bullshit; he had used captured NATO surveillance gear during the Yugoslav Wars, and that stuff had run continuously for three months in a bunker full of gunpowder smoke and dust without a single issue.

But he couldn't be bothered to argue with Igor.

Because Igor was the person Sergei trusted most, while he was just someone working for money.

So he kept the cigarette between his fingers, occasionally bringing it to his nose to smell the tobacco, and continued to stare at the screens.

There was nothing worth watching on the screens.

Top left, the restaurant back door; the alley was empty.

Top right, the stairwell; the wooden stairs leading from the first floor to the second were deserted.

Bottom left, the second-floor corridor; at the end was the door to Sergei's office.

Bottom right, the first-floor dining area; tables and chairs were arranged neatly.

Marco let out a yawn. The third one tonight.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment; he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and then made a decision: screw Igor.

He put the cigarette in his mouth, fished a lighter out of his pocket with his left hand, and shook it, feeling it had two or three sparks left in it.

The moment his thumb was about to press the wheel, the screen showing the back door flickered.

Marco jerked his head up, the cigarette still in his mouth, unlit; he leaned forward, closing in on the screen, his eyes locked on the black-and-white image in the top left corner.

The trash can was still in its original position, the crease on the lid stepped on and bent by a stray cat remained exactly as it was, and no one appeared in the frame.

He stared at it for about five seconds, then shifted his gaze to the signal indicator lights on the console; the lights for all four cameras were green, and he glanced at the timestamp in the corner of the screen—the numbers were ticking.

Everything was normal.

Marco leaned back into his chair, propped his feet back on the desk, and pressed the lighter wheel with his thumb again.

Click.

In the alley.

Lin An held a device the size of a smartphone, stood still for five seconds outside the surveillance frame, and then swaggered toward the restaurant back door where the camera was located.

The item in his hand was a Civilian Software-Defined Radio Portable, made in China in 2025, supporting full-duplex transmission and reception, capable of recording, analyzing, and re-broadcasting radio frequency signals.

This had been gifted by an electronics enthusiast in the Bullet Screen, who had even written a plugin specifically to jam this particular model of wireless camera.

Its jamming method wasn't complex: first, it performed a wireless intrusion, recorded a segment of data packets while the camera was working normally, and then played them back in a loop on the monitor.

The signal received by the receiver was "normal"—the signal strength was normal, the data format was normal, and the checksum was normal; the only difference was that the image was stuck on what happened a few seconds ago.

The abnormal image Marco saw in the surveillance room did indeed exist, but even if he were a vigilant veteran, he was destined to never discover Lin An.

This wasn't his fault; he was being crushed by technology.

While walking, Lin An tucked the SDR device into the inside pocket of his jacket, then reached his right hand into his jacket and pulled out a silver metal gadget the size of a coin.

A Button-style Ultrasonic Audio Jammer, made in Shenzhen, China in 2025, used for anti-eavesdropping in conference rooms; it interfered with microphones by emitting modulated ultrasonic waves, with an effective range of five meters and an eight-hour battery life.

This had also been gifted by the Bullet Screen.

The diagram drawn by the Bullet Screen masters had marked that there was a microphone next to the back door camera, and another hidden under the streetlight at the corner of the alley.

The two microphones covered the entire area from the alley entrance to the back door; if anyone approached along this route, the people in the control room would not only see them but also hear them.

Now, both microphones were recording the same sound... a uniform, rustling white noise with no information content.

If anyone were listening, they would only hear quiet, meaningless static.

Protected by these two pieces of equipment, which could be considered high-tech in 2009, Lin An walked at a steady pace, like someone out for a stroll after dinner, and arrived leisurely in front of the restaurant back door.

The Bullet Screen flowed quietly at the edge of his vision.

[How's the effect of this jammer?]

[Solid. A 2025 product against a 2009 microphone is like a grandfather bullying his grandson.]

[The streamer has walked in. Elegant, too elegant.]

[Like walking into his own home.]

The door was a steel fire door, protected by a handheld mechanical lock.

If he hadn't made preparations, Lin An would have had to call Darnell over to force it open, just like he did at the pharmacy earlier.

But things are different now.

Lin An reached into his jacket and pulled something out.

Clang, clang, clang... a Locksmith Compliant Electric Lock Pick Gun.

The device looked like a power drill without a barrel, featuring an interchangeable metal pick at the front shaped like an ultra-narrow key with fine teeth on its surface.

A small motor inside the grip drove the pick to vibrate up and down hundreds of times per second when the trigger was pulled.

This was a 2022 Chinese-made model, originally intended for locksmiths to legally open residential locks when keys were lost; only three manufacturers in the country held the production license.

It was something gifted by a certain Bullet Screen patron.

The method of use was simple... Lin An found the keyhole, inserted the pick, pulled the trigger, and gave it a gentle twist.

With a click, the door opened.

Lin An pushed the door open lightly and walked in as naturally as if he were returning home.

[You're in.]

[Host, you're in the back hallway now. The kitchen is on your left, the power distribution box is on your right, and the bar counter is ahead.]

[No one in the kitchen; the person who was by the freezer just changed shifts.]

The Bullet Screen outlined the structure of the hallway with lines... the contours of the walls, the positions of the doors, and the corner ahead.

Several boxes were marked on the screen: a green box on the kitchen door frame indicated safety, a gray box on the power distribution box indicated no threat, and a yellow dashed box toward the bar counter indicated caution.

[Sergei is still in the office on the second floor, but he just stood up and walked to the window.]

[Wait, Sergei is calling someone...]

[He called a burly man over.]

[The burly man is heading downstairs, going toward the third floor.]

[There are at least three people awake on the third floor, and they're moving.]

[They heard Sergei's order.]

[He told them to go get their guns.]

[Holy crap, Sergei also said, "Open the basement cold storage and initiate the thawing sequence."]

[Cold storage? That wasn't on the blueprints.]

["Traplex Bio test subjects"... that's what he said.]

[What the hell is that?]

[Wait, wait, wait, Igor went up to the third floor and is shouting for people.]

[The people on the second floor are moving too.]

[Sergei is coming downstairs.]

[The people from the third and second floors are all gathering on the first floor.]

[Host, they are assembling.]

[Hide!]

The Bullet Screen was scrolling frantically.

Red boxes representing enemies began to appear on the map... one on the second floor, moving along the stairs; three on the third floor, also moving toward the stairs.

Distances were marked next to the boxes: second-floor stairwell, 12 meters; third-floor hallway, 8 meters, approaching the stairs.

Lin An raised an eyebrow.

He glanced left and right at the boxes and lines formed by the Bullet Screen... enemy positions, movement directions, and distances were all clear at a glance.

He hadn't been discovered yet. Was he just lucky enough to stumble upon Sergei gathering his men for something?

Hide?

No, this was a good opportunity.

The corners of Lin An's mouth curled up slightly.

"Brothers, tell me the location of the power distribution box. Also, do me a favor... have the Crows you're controlling wait outside."

"After the power is cut, have them fly in through the darkness and start cawing all over the house to cover my movements."

He paused for a moment.

"Oh, and the Crows are precious. Keep them hidden and don't let them get hit by bullets; I'll be heartbroken if even one dies."

[The power distribution box is on the wall to your right, a gray metal box, two meters away.]

[The Crows are in position and waiting outside, seven in total.]

[Host, you're going to cut the power? Once the power is out, the surveillance will go blind, and the person in the control room will come out to check.]

[Wait, if you cut the power, the basement cold storage will stop too... will that test subject get out early?]

[Who cares? The more chaotic, the better.]

[It's coming, it's coming, Sergei is on the first floor.]

[The people on the third floor are heading down, and the one on the second floor is almost there too.]

[Hurry up, streamer.]

Lin An turned and walked toward his right.

The Bullet Screen outlined the silhouette of the electrical box in green lines—a gray metal box attached to the wall, its surface covered in handwritten circuit labels in Cyrillic.

The lines marked the opening direction of the box door and the position of the hinges.

His hand pressed against the electrical box, the cold sensation of the metal seeping through his fingertips.

The Bullet Screen kept refreshing.

[First-floor dining area, Sergei has arrived and is talking.]

[The others have arrived too, a total of... let me count.]

[There are eight people in the first-floor dining area now, including Sergei.]

[They are distributing weapons taken from the armory, AKs and shotguns.]

[Sergei is giving instructions; my Crow is behind the wall, so I can't hear clearly, but it sounds like he's saying "hold the first floor."]

[Someone went toward the cold storage, one person, heading deep into the basement.]

[The person in the control room is still smoking, completely oblivious.]

Lin An opened the electrical box door.

Inside were several rows of old-fashioned ceramic fuses and circuit breakers, with the wiring labels handwritten in Russian.

The Bullet Screen masters who understood Russian and circuitry immediately helped mark the location of the main switch... a large red circuit breaker located in the bottom right corner of the box.

[That's the one, the red one.]

[Pull it down and the whole building will go dark.]

[Streamer, think this through, you won't be able to see anything after the power goes out.]

[It's fine, we'll navigate for him.]

[Yeah, yeah, we can use lines to draw the terrain, darkness won't be an issue.]

Lin An's fingers rested on the red switch.

His expression was calm, his breathing steady.

Click.

The entire Black Sea Seafood Restaurant plunged into darkness.