"Special Envoy" Arrives

After the meeting ended, everyone gradually left the office. Su Ying was the last to go. As she closed the door, she looked back at Lin Xiao. He was still standing by the window, his back unusually straight in the afternoon light, yet inexplicably lonely. Footsteps faded down the hallway, and the room fell completely silent. Lin Xiao raised a hand, his fingertips touching the cold glass. Outside, dark clouds filled the sky. The first raindrop struck the window, leaving a winding trail of water. He thought of Fletcher's warning, the altered data, and the words he had just spoken. The idea had been planted, but whether the seed could sprout depended on the soil, the wind and rain, and... whether the shovel in his hand was sharp enough.

It rained for three days.

The air in the base was thick with the scent of wet earth, mixed with engine oil and rusting metal. The repair crews' progress slowed because of the rain, and welding sparks looked dim through the curtain of water. But Lin Xiao's team did not stop.

Su Ying's training program officially began on the morning of the third day.

The training ground was on the east side of the base. It had once been an abandoned warehouse, but it had now been cleared out. The floor was covered in nonslip mats, and the air smelled of fresh plastic and sweat. Tactical diagrams hung on the walls, marked with complex attack routes and defensive positions in red marker.

"Watch your breathing rhythm." Su Ying stood in the center of the field, her voice echoing through the empty warehouse. "The first rule of unconventional threats—they do not play by normal rules. The tactical coordination you are used to may be completely useless against them."

Twelve people stood before her, all elites Lin Xiao had selected from the base's various action teams. They wore training uniforms, their faces filled with wariness and confusion.

"Now, divide into groups and engage." Su Ying pressed the remote in her hand.

The projector in the corner of the warehouse lit up, casting distorted images across the wall—attack patterns of the sample creatures reconstructed by Nightingale from laboratory surveillance records. The swing paths of the tentacles, their charge speed, and attack angles all scrolled across the screen as streams of data.

"First group, defensive formation." Su Ying's voice turned icy. "Simulated targets: three high-speed tentacled creatures. Attack interval: zero point eight seconds. Begin."

Urgent footsteps rang out across the training ground.

Lin Xiao stood on the second-floor observation platform, watching the scene below through one-way glass. His fingers moved across the data terminal, recording every person's reaction time, movement path, and tactical choices. The terminal's cold glow reflected in his pupils like two flickering blue flames.

Wolf's voice came through the encrypted channel. "Boss, the independent network test is complete. AA-level encryption, signal coverage radius of five hundred meters. It can bypass the base's main network."

"Connect it to my terminal," Lin Xiao said.

A few seconds later, a green connection icon appeared in the lower-right corner of the screen. Lin Xiao opened it, and a new interface popped up—an entirely independent communications network. Every data stream passed through triple encryption, and there were only five access points: himself, Su Ying, Wolf, Nightingale, and Grey Falcon.

"Any progress on Nightingale's end?" he asked.

"She's still tracking that subnet." Wolf's voice carried a trace of excitement. "The encryption method is strange. It isn't anything known. But around three in the morning, she caught a signal fluctuation—the source pointed to the old Wastewater Treatment Plant in the northwest corner of the base."

Lin Xiao's fingers paused.

The Wastewater Treatment Plant. It was the most remote area of the base, and hardly anyone went there. The surveillance cameras had blind spots there, and maintenance records showed that the equipment had been out of service for two years.

"Have Grey Falcon check the records for supplies going in and out," Lin Xiao said. "In the past three months, has anyone applied for maintenance access there?"

"Understood."

The communication cut off.

Lin Xiao's gaze returned to the training ground. Su Ying was correcting a team member's shooting stance. Her hand pressed against the person's shoulder, her fingers exerting force until her knuckles turned white. The team member clenched his teeth, adjusted his center of gravity, and aimed his gun at the projected virtual target again.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, striking the nonslip mat and leaving dark circles.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, the rain stopped.

Sunlight streamed through gaps in the clouds, scattering broken gold across the wet ground. Puddles in the base courtyard reflected the sky like shattered mirrors. The air was much fresher, but the tense atmosphere had not dispersed.

Lin Xiao met Eric Sanders in his office.

An engineer from the Technical Department, thirty-seven years old, bald, and wearing thick glasses. He sat across the conference table with his hands on his knees, his fingers twisting together uneasily. The office was quiet, filled only with the hum of the air-conditioning vent and the distant muffled sounds of machinery outside.

"Engineer Sanders." Lin Xiao spoke calmly. "Grey Falcon should have already spoken with you."

"Yes, yes." Sanders looked up, his eyes behind the lenses somewhat evasive. "He said... you needed technical support."

"More than technical support." Lin Xiao took a document from the drawer and pushed it across the table. "These are the seventeen technical improvement proposals you submitted over the past three years. Energy efficiency optimization, redundant communications system design, and this—"

His finger tapped a page in the file.

"A preliminary concept for using bioelectric signals to enhance human-machine interface systems." Lin Xiao looked at him. "An interesting idea. But why were they all rejected by the Technical Department?"

Sanders's Adam's apple bobbed.

"They said... they weren't practical." His voice was low. "They said my designs were too complicated, the costs were too high, and... and the risks were uncontrollable."

"Risks?" Lin Xiao raised an eyebrow.

"If the bioelectric signals are disrupted, it could cause neural damage to the operator," Sanders said. "The Technical Department's Safety Committee believed the risk was not worth taking."

"So they would rather use those old, inefficient, but 'safe' systems." Lin Xiao leaned back in his chair. "Even if those systems might fail at a critical moment—like when the attack happened last week, and the base's main communications network was paralyzed for a full six minutes."

Sanders fell silent.

The sunlight outside shifted, illuminating half his face. The white paper of the document reflected in his lenses.

"I can give you resources," Lin Xiao said. "Independent laboratory access, a research budget unrestricted by the Technical Department's Safety Committee, and—someone truly willing to listen to your ideas."

He paused.

"But you need to make a choice. Stay in the Technical Department and keep writing reports that will never be adopted. Or join a place that truly wants to accomplish something."

Sanders's fingers stopped twisting together.

He looked up. This time, he did not avert his eyes.

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

"First, complete this." Lin Xiao pulled a blueprint from another folder. "A portable signal jammer capable of blocking bioelectric signal transmission within specific frequency bands. The design specifications are here. I've already had Grey Falcon prepare the materials list."

Sanders took the blueprint, his eyes quickly scanning the lines and data.

His breathing grew rapid.

"This... this is for..."

"For threats that may exist and use bioelectric signals for control." Lin Xiao cut him off. "You only need to tell me whether you can make it."

Sanders stared at the blueprint for a full half minute.

Then he looked up, his eyes behind the lenses lighting up.

"Give me two weeks," he said. "No, ten days. I can make a prototype."

"Very good." Lin Xiao nodded. "Starting today, you report to Grey Falcon. Obtain all necessary supplies through him. You'll be told the laboratory's location later—it isn't in the Technical Department building."

Sanders stood up and carefully rolled up the blueprint, holding it in his hand.

He reached the door, then stopped and looked back.

"Mr. Lin," he said, "that place you mentioned... what is it called?"

Lin Xiao looked at him.

Sunlight slanted in through the window, drawing a golden band of light between them. Dust slowly spun within it like tiny galaxies.

"It doesn't have a name yet," Lin Xiao said. "But it will soon."

The fifth day.

Nightingale's investigation made a breakthrough.

At four in the morning, Lin Xiao was awakened by an emergency call through the encrypted channel. He opened his eyes. The dormitory was pitch-black, with only the blue light of the data terminal flickering. He sat up and grabbed the terminal.

"Boss, I found it." Nightingale's voice carried suppressed excitement, along with a faint, barely perceptible tremor. "That subnet... it isn't just independent. It's infiltrating the base's main system in reverse."

Lin Xiao's drowsiness vanished instantly.

"Explain."

"I tracked it for seventy-two hours and finally captured its complete data packet structure." Nightingale spoke quickly. "The encryption algorithm is a variant of RSA-4096, but it's mixed with some kind of... biometric verification. Before every data transmission, it sends a weak pulse of bioelectric signals as identity authentication."

Lin Xiao's pupils contracted.

"Bioelectric signals?"

"Yes. And the pulse frequency has an eighty-seven percent similarity to the neural signal signatures of the laboratory sample creatures." Nightingale paused. "More importantly, I found a physical access point inside an old server cabinet at the Wastewater Treatment Plant. It had been modified, with an independent cooling system and backup power supply added. Power logs show that it had been operating regularly over the past three months—always during gaps in the base's routine patrols."

Lin Xiao threw back the covers and stepped barefoot onto the floor. The tiles were icy cold, and the chill crept upward from the soles of his feet.

"Any physical evidence left behind?"

"Yes," Nightingale said. "I extracted an incomplete fingerprint and several strands of hair from inside the cabinet. They've already been given to Anna for DNA comparison. But it will take time. The base's genetic database has very high access restrictions, and I can't break through them yet."

"Keep monitoring it, but don't alert them," Lin Xiao said. "Record every data flow. I want to know what it's transmitting."

"Understood."

The communication cut off.

Lin Xiao stood in the darkness, listening to his own breathing. Outside, the base was silent. Only the searchlights from distant sentry posts occasionally swept past, casting shifting patches of light across the walls.

Bioelectric signals. The Wastewater Treatment Plant. Regular operations.

The fragments pieced themselves together in his mind, gradually forming a vague outline. Someone inside the base was using the laboratory incident as cover for some kind of secret operation. And the disappearance of the "Prototype-Alpha" sample was likely only one part of a larger plan.

He walked to the window and pushed it open.

The night wind rushed in, carrying the raw scent of rain-soaked soil and the resinous smell of the distant forest. There was no moon in the sky, only a few sparse stars flickering through gaps in the clouds.

Half the time before Fletcher's warned arrival of the "headquarters investigator" had already passed.

Lin Xiao clenched his fist.

His nails dug into his palm, leaving four clear crescent-shaped marks.

The seventh day.

At eight in the morning, the alarm sounded.

It was not an attack alarm, but the highest-level visitor alert. A cold electronic voice came through the base broadcast system: "Attention, all personnel. Clear the helipad area. Repeat, clear the helipad area. An important visitor has arrived."

Lin Xiao was observing Su Ying's new tactical drill at the training ground.

The instant he heard the broadcast, he looked up. Su Ying stopped as well, and the two exchanged a glance. The other team members on the training ground looked at one another, and a silent tension spread through the air.

"Continue training," Lin Xiao told Su Ying calmly. "I'll go take a look."

He left the training ground and headed down the corridor toward the command center. The corridor was quiet, but urgent footsteps could be heard in the distance—the base guard force was assembling. The emergency lights on the walls began flashing red, casting jumping shadows across the floor.

Fletcher was already standing in the command center lobby.

He wore a formal uniform, his chest covered in medals. His hair was combed flawlessly, but Lin Xiao noticed that his right hand remained at his waist—where his sidearm rested. His fingers were slightly curled, ready to draw at any time.

"They're here." Fletcher saw Lin Xiao and spoke only two words.

His voice was heavy, as if weighed down by a stone.

Lin Xiao nodded and walked to his side. Through the command center's floor-to-ceiling windows, they could see the helipad at the center of the base. It was a circular area paved with concrete, surrounded by four anti-air towers with radar units slowly rotating atop them.

There were no clouds in the sky.

The sunlight was blinding, reflecting a vast white glare off the concrete. Wind swept through, lifting a few fallen leaves and spinning them through the air.

Then came the sound.

At first, it was a low hum from far away, like the beating wings of some enormous insect. The sound gradually grew louder, becoming a sharp howl. Dust on the helipad began to swirl into tiny whirlwinds.

A black helicopter appeared on the horizon.

It bore no markings—no national insignia, no serial number, not even clear windows. Its windows were dark one-way glass. Its fuselage lines were sleek to the point of being eerie, and its rotors made almost no noise as they spun, apart from the oppressive roar of displaced air.

The helicopter slowly descended.

The airflow swept dust into the sky, blocking out the sunlight. Lin Xiao narrowed his eyes and watched the helicopter settle steadily in the center of the helipad. The rotor speed slowed, but did not stop completely.

The cabin door slid open.

Two guards stepped out first.

They wore black tactical gear, equipped to a suffocating degree—exoskeleton support systems, full-coverage helmets, and miniature missile launchers mounted on their shoulders. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, like two precision machines. The moment they landed, they split to either side, their helmeted visors scanning the surroundings as red dots from infrared targeting sights traced thin lines through the air.

Then a third person emerged.

A middle-aged man, around fifty. He wore a perfectly tailored dark-gray suit and polished leather shoes. He carried a black briefcase, walking with the composure of someone attending a business meeting. Sunlight gleamed silver off his neatly combed gray hair.

But his eyes—

Through the glass, Lin Xiao met those eyes.

Sharp as an eagle's. Cold as a blade. There was no emotion in them, only pure scrutiny and assessment. They swept over the outer walls of the command center, the anti-air towers, and finally settled on Fletcher and Lin Xiao behind the floor-to-ceiling windows.

For a full three seconds.

Then the man gave a slight nod, the corners of his mouth lifting into a standard, courteous smile without a trace of warmth.

Fletcher took a deep breath.

"Let's go," he said. "Let's welcome our 'guest.'"

The wind on the helipad was strong.

The airflow stirred up by the helicopter's rotors had not fully died down, whipping Lin Xiao's uniform loudly in the wind. Dust slipped into his nostrils, carrying the sharp smell of metal and fuel. Direct sunlight beat down, heat shimmering above the concrete and slightly warping everything in sight.

Mr. White—as he introduced himself—stood beside the helicopter, waiting for them to approach.

When the distance narrowed to ten meters, Lin Xiao noticed more details.

The man's suit was custom-made by Italian craftsmen, and the cuff buttons bore faint serpent crests. On his left wrist was a Patek Philippe, its dial black as deep space, its hands moving almost silently. His posture was relaxed, but his center of gravity was steady, like a steel nail driven into the ground.

"Captain Fletcher." Mr. White spoke in a mild voice with a perfectly measured British accent. "I've heard much about you. I'm a special envoy from the Headquarters Inspectorate. You may call me White."

He extended his hand.

Fletcher shook it. Their hands met briefly, then separated.

"Mr. White." Fletcher's voice was formal. "Welcome to Base Seven. We have prepared the briefing."

"Very good." White turned his gaze to Lin Xiao. "And this is?"

"Lin Xiao, deputy director of base security," Fletcher introduced. "He performed exceptionally during last week's attack."

"Oh?" White raised an eyebrow, those eagle-like eyes settling on Lin Xiao once more. "I've heard your name. The report says you resolved the laboratory's runaway sample alone."

"It was the result of teamwork," Lin Xiao said evenly. "I only did what I had to do."

White smiled.

The smile was shallow, moving only the muscles at the corners of his mouth. The coldness in his eyes did not melt in the slightest.

"Modesty is a virtue," he said. "But excessive modesty can sometimes make people doubt the truth. Wouldn't you agree?"

The air froze for an instant.

The lingering hum of the helicopter's rotors echoed through the air like an ominous warning.

"Let's go to the conference room first," Fletcher broke the silence. "It's too windy here."

"Of course." White nodded.

The two guards followed behind him, their steps perfectly synchronized, their boots striking the concrete with dull thuds. Their helmets kept turning slightly, monitoring every direction without blind spots. Lin Xiao noticed that the safeties on their weapons were off, their fingers resting loosely around the trigger guards.

They could open fire at any moment.

The base's most secure conference room was on the third basement level.

They had to pass through three airtight doors, each with independent biometric and password verification. The walls were thirty centimeters of alloy, lined inside with lead panels that could block all electromagnetic signals. The ceiling vents were fitted with particle filters, and the air circulation system was independent from the base's main network.

There was only one long table and six chairs in the conference room.

The cold white LED lights drained all color from everyone's faces. The air-conditioning was set very low, and Lin Xiao could feel the hairs on his arms standing up. The air smelled of fresh paint and ozone, mixed with a faint chemical scent like disinfectant.

Mr. White sat at one end of the long table.

He placed his briefcase on the table, opened it, and took out a tablet as thin as a cicada's wing. The screen lit up, blue light reflecting off his glasses.

The two guards stood behind him like statues.

Fletcher and Lin Xiao sat opposite him.

"So." White spoke, his fingers sliding across the tablet. "Where should we begin?"

His voice echoed through the sealed room with a metallic texture.

"Let's start with the attack," Fletcher said. "The complete report has already been submitted to headquarters."

"I read it." White nodded. "But reports are dead; people are alive. I want to hear it from you—what exactly happened that night?"

Fletcher began his account.

He spoke at an unhurried pace, explaining every detail clearly: how the laboratory alarms had sounded, how the security forces had responded, how the specimen creature had broken containment, and the resulting casualties. Lin Xiao noticed that Fletcher's version matched the report exactly—including the altered parts.

White listened intently.

From time to time, he made notes on his tablet. Occasionally, he looked up, his gaze lingering on Fletcher's face. Those eyes were like surgical blades, trying to cut through the surface of his words and uncover the truth beneath.

Twenty minutes later, Fletcher finished.

The conference room fell silent.

The hum of the air conditioner became exceptionally clear.

"So." White set down his tablet and folded his hands on the table. "Under circumstances where the base was under attack, the primary communications were crippled, and the command system was in chaos, a newly promoted squad leader—Mr. Lin—not only organized an effective resistance, but also entered the laboratory alone and dealt with a specimen creature that even the professional containment team had been unable to handle."

He paused.

"Then, during the subsequent internal purge, he precisely identified every hidden extremist, including a senior agent who had been embedded in the base for five years."

His gaze shifted to Lin Xiao.

"Mr. Lin, can you tell me how you did it?"

There it was.

Lin Xiao could feel Fletcher's body tense slightly. Cold air poured down from the vent, brushing across the back of his neck and raising goosebumps.

He raised his head and met White's gaze.

"Luck," Lin Xiao said, his voice utterly flat. "And familiarity with the base's layout. Before joining the operations team, I spent three months in Logistics, where I was responsible for equipment inspections. I knew the layout of the laboratory ventilation ducts, as well as the emergency shutdown procedures for the specimen containment chambers."

"Oh?" White raised an eyebrow. "So you used that knowledge?"

"Yes." Lin Xiao nodded. "As for the purge operation—that wasn't my achievement alone. Captain Fletcher provided intelligence support, and the other members of the operations team carried out the arrests. I merely proposed the screening plan."

"Very modest." White smiled. "But the report says that you insisted on checking everyone's communications logs and supply requisition forms. Why?"

"Because moles need to transmit information, and they also need to acquire resources," Lin Xiao said. "Abnormal encrypted signals in the communications logs, extra chemical reagents on the supply forms—those were all clues. I merely pieced them together."

"Pieced them together." White repeated the phrase as if savoring its meaning. "Then, regarding those newcomers on your team—Su Ying, and that technician called Wolf. The report says you recruited them after the attack. Can you tell me how you found such 'talent' in so short a time?"

The question had become more pointed.

Lin Xiao could feel White's gaze pricking his skin like needles. The temperature in the conference room seemed to drop another few degrees, and his breath condensed into white mist in the air.

"Su Ying was formerly a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," Lin Xiao said, each word carefully calculated. "She was betrayed during a mission and listed as a defector. I discovered traces of her in surveillance footage around the base and concluded that she likely bore no hostility toward Hydra—after all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I contacted her and offered her protection. In exchange, she worked for me."

"A very reasonable explanation." White nodded. "And Wolf?"

"He was sidelined in the Technical Department," Lin Xiao said. "His ideas were too far ahead of their time to be accepted by the Conservative Faction. I gave him a platform to use his talents, so naturally, he was willing to stay."

"So, you are someone... skilled at discovering talent and knowing how to use it." White's fingers lightly tapped the tabletop in a rhythmic click-click. "Then, Mr. Lin, can you tell me what motivated you to join Hydra?"

The most crucial question.

Lin Xiao's pupils contracted slightly.

He was silent for two seconds—the pause was natural, as though he were considering how to answer.

"Order," he finally said. "This world is too chaotic. Governments are corrupt, organizations are inefficient, superheroes do whatever they please, and ordinary people live like ants. Hydra's ideal—building absolute order—may sound extreme, but at least it offers a clear future."

"A clear future," White repeated. "Even if that future might require sacrificing the freedom of many people?"

"Freedom is relative," Lin Xiao said. "Dying in chaos or living under order—most people would choose the latter."

White looked at him.

For the first time, a flicker of genuine interest passed through those hawk-like eyes.

"Interesting," he said. "Then if one day Headquarters' orders conflict with your ideal of 'order,' what would you do?"

"I would assess the situation," Lin Xiao said. "If Headquarters' orders align with the greater goal of order, I will carry them out. If they do not... I will make a recommendation."

"A recommendation." White smiled. "You have courage, Mr. Lin."

He put away his tablet and returned it to his briefcase.

The meeting seemed to be ending.

But just as Lin Xiao thought he had made it through, White spoke again.

"One final question," he said. His voice was soft, but every word was like an icicle. "Regarding the specimen lost from the laboratory—Prototype-Alpha. The report says it was destroyed in the chaos. But I found in the base's energy consumption records that the laboratory's backup generator continued running for seventeen minutes after the attack began."

He looked up.

"Can you tell me what happened during those seventeen minutes?"

The air froze completely.

Lin Xiao could hear his own heartbeat pounding heavily in his chest. The air conditioner's cold wind scraped across his skin like blades. Fletcher's breathing quickened. It lasted only an instant, but Lin Xiao caught it.

He needed to answer.

Now.

"I don't know," Lin Xiao said, his voice still steady. "At the time, I was clearing the residual specimens around the laboratory perimeter. The backup generator may have started automatically—the laboratory has emergency protocols that automatically switch power sources during an outage."

"An automatic switch." White nodded. "A very reasonable explanation."

He stood up.

The two guards immediately moved, taking positions to his left and right.

"Captain Fletcher, Mr. Lin." White put his polite smile back on like a mask. "Thank you for your cooperation. The base reconstruction has been handled very well. Headquarters will remember it."

He walked toward the door.

But as he passed Lin Xiao, he stopped.

He turned slightly and lowered his voice.

"Mr. Lin," he said, quietly enough for only the two of them to hear, "your abilities... and your 'luck' are both impressive. Headquarters needs talent like you. Serve Captain Fletcher well, and perhaps before long, we will meet again somewhere more important."

With that, he turned and left.

The two guards followed behind him, their boots striking the floor in orderly steps. One airtight door after another opened, then closed. The sounds gradually faded before disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Only Lin Xiao and Fletcher remained in the conference room.

The air conditioner was still humming.

Cold white light shone on their faces.

Fletcher let out a long breath, as if casting off an enormous burden. He slumped into his chair and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

"We passed," he muttered. "For now."

Lin Xiao said nothing.

His eyes remained fixed in the direction White had left, replaying every detail from moments ago in his mind.

Then he remembered something.

White's guard—the one on the right. When he turned to leave, his left hand had instinctively steadied the holster at his waist. The movement was subtle, but Lin Xiao had seen it.

As he touched the holster, his little finger had lifted slightly, forming a specific angle.

That was a habitual motion of senior S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents. During training, they were taught to hold their holsters that way to ensure their fingers would not catch between the holster and the weapon during a quick draw.

Lin Xiao had seen it countless times in his previous life.

His heart sank sharply.

Mr. White came from Hydra Headquarters' Inspectorate.

But his guard had the habits of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

What did that mean?

Lin Xiao did not know.

But he knew one thing—this game had just entered a whole new, more dangerous stage.