Ye Mo stared at the waveform on the screen, his fingers tapping a few times on the keyboard. The ley line signal from 180 meters to the southeast had returned, lasting four seconds like before, then disappearing. He glanced at the time; it had been exactly thirty-seven minutes since the last one.
This frequency is too accurate; it can't be a natural phenomenon.
"It's not a false alarm," he said. "Someone is sending signals at regular intervals."
Emma Frost stood beside the control panel, her eyes closed, her Mental Network maintained at its lowest power. She nodded. "Still those low-frequency pulses, the rhythm like incantations, but the encoding is modern. They're using old methods to transmit new things."
"Testing our reaction." Ye Mo pulled up the vibration data from the past twelve hours, highlighting all abnormal data in red. "If it were just Watchdogs, it wouldn't fire five times in a row. This is to confirm whether the channel is open."
Should we answer it now?
"No." He shook his head, "Then touch it back."
He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the Gene Spiral Tower. The thirteenth floor lit up faintly, and the new skill, a fusion of the Shadowcat's ability to Wall Phasing and Radar Sense, was activated. He built a three-dimensional model in his mind, reconstructing the geological structure within a five-kilometer radius of the base. The signal did not come in a straight line; it was reflected by three layers of rock, its path resembling a maze.
"The source isn't 180 meters away." He opened his eyes. "It's actually five kilometers away, beneath the abandoned weather station. They use underground tremors as messengers; they're quite good at hiding."
"Are you sure?" Emma Frost asked.
"The error is no more than twenty meters." He pointed to an attenuation curve on the screen. "Look at this slope. If it were emitted by a local device, the attenuation wouldn't be this smooth. Only multiple refractions over a long distance would produce this."
She said, "So what are you planning to do now? Wait for them to send it again?"
"No need to wait." Ye Mo activated the vibration feedback mode of the device. "We'll send one back."
"Reply to what?"
"Noise." He smiled. "Marked noise. Make them think we've been tricked, and they've started spreading intelligence."
Emma Frost frowned. "You want to act out an invasion?"
"More than that." He typed a few lines of code. "I want them to feel that we're not just two people, but a network. There are outposts, relays, and command nodes. As long as they dare to connect, they'll see a bunch of people whispering."
"What if they find out?"
"Even if we see through it, we have to continue," he said. "The real trap isn't the truthfulness of the information, but making them believe we have a system. People aren't afraid of strong opponents; they're afraid of opponents with organized backing."
She was silent for a few seconds, then opened her eyes and looked at him. "You want me to cooperate?"
"You set the bait," Ye Mo said. "Drop a fake memory at the edge of the Mental Network, saying I've locked onto Loki's coordinates and will transfer the intelligence tomorrow morning. Don't add any emotion, don't connect it to the main consciousness, just let it float."
"This kind of operation is very risky." Her voice lowered. " The Hellfire Club uses this kind of method to control people. I've seen too many people get themselves into trouble because of a false memory."
"I know," he said, looking at her, "But now we're the ones who set this up, not being manipulated. You're the hunter, not the hunted."
She didn't speak, but gently pressed her temple with her fingers.
A few seconds later, she nodded. "I can do it. But only once, and the backtracking path must be cut off. Once they try to trace back, I'll detonate the pre-set data mine."
"Okay." He pulled up the neural isolation protocol. "I'll set up three layers of firewalls for you: physical disconnection, signal obfuscation, and delayed response. Even if they find the entrance, they'll only see an empty room."
She closed her eyes and began to set up.
Ye Mo turned back and continued adjusting the parameters of the vibration pile. When both systems run simultaneously, they will resonate, causing the monitoring screen to freeze for 0.3 seconds. This delay is nothing in normal times, but in information warfare, it can be fatal.
He lowered the output frequency of the oscillation pile by 1.7 Hz, which just happened to be out of sync with the carrier frequency band of the Mental Network. The screen refresh returned to normal.
"It's safe now," he muttered to himself.
Emma Frost suddenly opened her eyes. "It's all set."
What did they say?
"I said you woke up at three in the morning, pulled up an encrypted file, looked at it for ten minutes, and then said, 'This is it.' Then the screen went black, leaving only one voice message: 'Operate tomorrow morning, leave no trace.'"
"Sounds plausible," he laughed. "Even I'm starting to believe it."
"Don't praise me." She rubbed her temples. "Doing this kind of thing too often can be addictive. People in the club used to start with a fake news story and ended up living in their own fabricated narratives."
"But we know we're acting," he said. "As long as we remember which parts are fake, we won't get caught up in it."
She glanced at him. "Are you always this calm?"
"It's not about being calm," he typed, "It's about being poor. When you're broke, you have to be careful even when you're lying; one wrong step and you're ruined. Now at least you have the equipment, so it's like an upgrade."
Her lips twitched, but she didn't say anything.
A system notification sounded: [External signal detected again, lasting four seconds, recorded]
Ye Mo immediately zoomed in on the waveform. This time the signal was slightly longer, with an additional 0.2 seconds of wake.
"They're back," he said, pointing to the screen, "And they listened a little longer, trying to get more details."
"That means they're interested," Emma Frost said. "Or... they're already suspicious."
"Then let's add some more." He activated the Oscillation Echo Protocol, "Each time a signal is received, automatically transmit a weak response in three directions, simulating traces of multi-person communication."
"You want them to feel like we're in a meeting?"
"Yes." After setting the parameters, he said, "Let their listeners hear a cacophony of voices, making it impossible to tell who the master node is. The more chaotic, the better."
She closed her eyes and sensed the state of the Mental Network: "My decoy is still in place, no one's touched it. But their pulse frequency changed just now, like they're adjusting their receiving mode."
"Prepare for a deep scan?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she said. "If they're after the memories, the next step will be to try and establish a connection."
"Then let them..." Ye Mo sneered, "We'll leave the door to the fake conference room wide open and wait for them to crash right in."
She opened her eyes. "Aren't you afraid they might actually find something?"
"I'm afraid," he said, looking at the screen. "But I'm even more afraid of doing nothing. Now at least we know—they're looking for an outlet for information, which means they haven't grasped the overall situation yet. As long as they're still gathering information, we still have a chance to turn the tables."
She nodded, closed her eyes again, and reinforced the outer barrier of her Mental Network.
Time ticked by, second by second.
On the monitoring screen, the vibration pile network showed everything was normal. No new ground vein signals appeared.
Ye Mo leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. The rhythm was steady, in sync with his heartbeat.
Emma Frost suddenly opened her eyes. "Wait."
"What's wrong?"
"There's a change at the edge of the Mental Network." Her voice tightened. "That fake memory packet... it's been touched."
"Who?"
"I don't know." She stared into the void. "It was a very light touch, like a piece of paper being blown by the wind. It didn't penetrate, it didn't replicate anything, it just... touched it."
"A test?" he asked.
"It doesn't seem like it." She shook her head. "Too light. If it were a technical probe, it wouldn't only stay for 0.1 seconds. This is more like... confirming its presence."
"In other words," he slowly sat up straight, "The other side knew we would use bait, so they checked the hooks first to see if any food was on them."
"Yes," she said, "They're verifying whether our reaction is genuine."
He chuckled. "Then we have to convince them that the meal is about to begin."
He quickly accessed the Oscillator protocol's backend and manually triggered three false response signals, labeled as "Node B confirms reception," "Relay station no abnormality," and "Tomorrow's plan as scheduled."
"If they're eavesdropping now," he said, "They'll think we've started internal coordination."
Emma Frost stared at the Mental Network: "The location of the decoy package hasn't changed, but that fluctuation from before... has subsided."
"They've left?"
"It's gone," she said. "Not severed, it just dissipated naturally, like a task completed."
The two exchanged a glance.
Ye Mo said in a low voice, "They received the information they wanted."
"What's next?" she asked.
"Wait." He stared at the screen. "Wait for their second move. The first is a reconnaissance mission; the second is their real attack."
She closed her eyes and redeployed her defenses. "I will guard the mental layer. If anyone attempts to establish a deep connection, activate the countermeasures immediately."
"I'll also strengthen signal camouflage on my end." He opened a new control panel. "Every half hour, automatically send a fake command stream to make them think we're frequently in contact."
She nodded and said nothing more.
The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the equipment running.
Ye Mo's finger hovered over the Enter key.
He knew that the other party might be listening to everything from somewhere.
He also knew that this intelligence war had only just begun.
His finger pressed Enter.
The screen flickered, and a stream of encrypted data spread outwards.
At the same instant, Emma Frost suddenly opened her eyes.
Her lips moved, and she uttered a sentence:
"That last attack... wasn't sent by us."