As soon as the car was turned off, Ye Mo heard Scott's hushed voice through his earpiece. "He's out."
The night wind blew in through the broken windows of the abandoned pumping station, carrying the smell of rust. Darren Cross, carrying a tactical pack, crouched low as he crawled out of the west ventilation shaft. His movements were steady, clearly those of a veteran. He glanced around, found nothing amiss, and began to walk down the slope.
"Wait three seconds," Ye Mo whispered into his earpiece.
The next second, Scott's figure distorted slightly in the air, swaying like ripples on water. Immediately afterward, the communicator on Darren's wrist flashed red with a "snap," and the screen went black. He froze, looking down and frantically pressing buttons, but there was no response.
"Interference successful." Scott's voice carried a hint of smugness. " Pym Particles micro-pulses, a cure for all kinds of electronic ailments."
Darren's eyes narrowed, and he quickly glanced around, clearly realizing something was wrong. He turned to retreat back to the pump station, but the door had already been welded shut. He took off running, but after only ten meters, his foot suddenly slipped— Ye Mo had already had Scott spread a layer of nano-lubricant on the muddy ground, making it as slippery as an ice rink. Darren stumbled and fell into a haystack, his tactical pack flying a considerable distance.
Ye Mo emerged from behind the tree, carrying a silver metal box. "Don't struggle. We already confiscated your anti-tracking equipment as scrap metal."
Darren lay panting on the ground, then looked up at him, glaring at him. "Who are you? Stark's men? Remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D.."
"None of those." Ye Mo squatted down, opened the box, revealing an electromagnetic restraint device inside. "We specialize in dealing with people like you who are terminally delusional sufferers who 'want to change the world order through science.'"
Darren sneered, "I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Don't understand?" Ye Mo raised his phone, and a video was playing on the screen—it was what Scott had just filmed with a miniature camera. Darren was operating a particle analyzer inside the pump station, and a drawing was spread out on the table with the title "Draft of Energy Model for Crustal Shock Bomb".
Darren's expression changed.
"Do you understand now?" Ye Mo closed his phone. "Stubbornness won't work. We know what projects you've been involved in. But what we don't know is—do you have any accomplices? Where are you planning to test it next? Do you have a backup of the formula? You'll have to tell us these things yourself."
Darren shut his mouth, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Fine, you won't talk, huh?" Ye Mo stood up, patted his pants, "Then let's try another way."
He took out his phone, dialed a number, and it connected after two rings.
"Have we arrived?" he asked.
"I just stopped behind you." A woman's voice came from the other end of the phone, as calm as ice-cold mineral water.
Five minutes later, a black SUV silently slid into the ditch without even turning on its lights. The door opened, and Emma Frost Thaddeus Ross stepped out, her long white trench coat making her look like an AI queen straight out of a science fiction movie. She glanced at Darren, who was strapped to a chair, then looked at Ye Mo: "Did you catch him?"
"Got him, but he's tight-lipped." Ye Mo pointed to his head. "I need your help to rummage through his memory."
Emma Frost nodded and walked up to Darren. He immediately tensed up and instinctively shrank back.
"Relax." Emma Frost's voice wasn't loud, but it had an irresistible penetrating power. "I don't care about your childhood trauma, nor do I care why you hate society. I just want to know three things: Who are you still in contact with? Where are you going next? When are you going to test the weapons?"
Darren gritted his teeth. "Don't even think about touching my head."
Emma Frost ignored him, took a nerve stabilizer from her pocket and put it on her temple. A thin wire connected the stabilizer to a small signal buffer Scott had modified. "This thing can prevent me from being harmed by your mental defense mechanisms," she said to Ye Mo. "Call me when you're ready."
Ye Mo glanced at his watch. "Let's begin, time is running out."
Emma Frost closed her eyes, slowly raised her right hand, and gently pressed her fingertips against Darren's temple. The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The first wave of memory fragments emerged.
The scene jumps to: an underground laboratory, with a map of global military bases hanging on the wall; a particle reactor model on the table, labeled "phase synchronization rate 78%"; a stream of data flashes by, showing the simulation results of some kind of high-energy fluctuation.
"He's replicating the resonance effect of the Pym Particles," Scott, staring at the buffer screen, "But with something else added... like a geomagnetic perturbation module."
Emma Frost frowned slightly, and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She continued to delve deeper, trying to pinpoint the key point.
A second wave of memories flooded in.
In the conference hall, Darren stood before the projector, his voice fervent. "The existing nuclear deterrence system is ineffective! Intercontinental ballistic missiles can be intercepted, and satellite orbits can be paralyzed. But what if we could induce a directional earthquake along a fault line? A magnitude 5 tremor would be enough to paralyze the strategic command centers of three major powers! At that time, whoever controls the stun munition will be the arbiter of the new world!"
Ye Mo narrowed his eyes. "No wonder he's eyeing Ant-Man's technology. Shrinking devices aren't just for stealing; they can also be used to send weapons into weak points in the Earth's crust."
Emma Frost's fingers trembled slightly, and her breathing became heavy. Forcibly reading a highly guarded mind was like defusing a bomb with bare hands; the slightest carelessness could injure herself.
"He's stuck." She opened her eyes, her voice a little hoarse. "He set a memory trap, hiding the core information within an emotional gap. If we force our way through, it might trigger his self-protective mechanism, causing him to lose his memory or suffer brain damage on the spot."
Ye Mo stroked his chin. "Then don't force it. Try a different approach—ask him what he's most afraid of."
"What do you mean?" Scott asked.
"No matter how much a person pretends, there will always be fear hidden in their subconscious." Ye Mo walked up to Darren. "You said you don't know us, but when you saw Scott's abilities just now, your pupils contracted for 0.3 seconds. That means you know Ant-Man technology shouldn't be available to the general public. Do you remember the last time you saw a similar experiment?"
Darren remained silent.
"Three years ago, a secret project team from the Ministry of National Defense," Ye Mo continued, "Seven people died in that accident, the report was sealed, but someone secretly backed up the data. That person was you, right? You didn't want to rule the world, you wanted to prove them wrong—to prove that the review committee that kicked you out of the project was a bunch of idiots."
Darren looked up abruptly, a flash of surprise and anger in his eyes.
In that instant, Emma Frost struck again.
Her fingertips touched her temples again, this time slipping into the emotional rift of "anger-humiliation-resentment".
The screen refreshes.
Darren sat in front of the computer, frantically typing on the keyboard. A line of text popped up on the screen. "Simulation 47 complete. Estimated detonation window: 48 hours later. Target location: 36.2°N, 139.8°E -- 8 kilometers underground at the southern foot of Mount Fuji."
"Found it!" Scott pointed to the buffer. "He even planned to use an undersea tunnel to transport the equipment in! There are abandoned research pipelines there, and nobody's checking them!"
Emma Frost slowly regained consciousness, removed the neural stabilizer, and her face was somewhat pale. "He's right... He's already made the arrangements. As long as the data can be transmitted tonight, someone will initiate the transportation process."
Ye Mo immediately grabbed the walkie-talkie. "All pre-set monitoring points, take note: block all encrypted channels leading to the coastal area, especially deep network frequency hopping transmissions. Once you discover any keywords related to 'Fuji,' 'fault,' or 'phase,' intercept and trace them immediately."
He turned to Scott: "Can you do another remote signal spoofing over there? Make his accomplices think everything is normal?"
"No problem." Scott grinned. "I'll just make up a 'progress delay' notice for him right now, along with a fake log. I guarantee even his own mother won't be able to tell the difference."
"Okay." Ye Mo nodded. "Maintain the status quo, don't kill him or let him go. This person is still useful."
He walked to the corner of the carriage, turned on the encrypted terminal, and began to organize the intelligence. The screen displayed three columns:
a. Weapon development progress: 78%, with the remaining 22% for final calibration and field testing.
b. Next Steps: Transfer the equipment to the underground facility at Mount Fuji in Japan for a test explosion within 48 hours.
c. Potential Threat: At least two unidentified external liaisons, codenamed " Raven " and " Tide."
"Finally, I've put all the pieces together," he said softly.
Emma Frost leaned against the wall to catch her breath, then suddenly said, "He also has a timed data erasure program in his brain. If he doesn't receive a confirmation signal for more than twelve hours, all local data will be automatically destroyed."
"So he has to live," Ye Mo said, "And he has to feel like he's still in control."
Scott turned on the monitor of the electromagnetic shielding chamber to the main screen. "Vitality signs stable, brain waves normal. This guy is sleeping better than my dog."
The three remained silent for a moment.
It was still pitch black outside, and the barking of wild dogs could be heard in the distance. The wind blew through the pump station roof, making the sheet metal rattle.
"What do we do next?" Scott asked.
"Wait." Ye Mo turned off the terminal. "Wait for him to wake up, wait for him to send a signal, wait for him to lure everyone out. Then—"
He glanced at Emma Frost, who nodded slightly.
"Then we followed the trail and dug out the entire root."
The dim lighting inside the carriage illuminated four faces: a Mutants had just experienced mental exhaustion, Ant-Man who was waiting to show off his skills, a time traveler with a scheming mind, and a mad scientist locked in an isolation pod, about to become bait.
Ye Mo stood up, walked to the car door, and opened it a crack to look outside. The night was as dark as ink, but the darkest part of the road before dawn is often when you can see the clearest.
He turned around and said, "Who wants Red Bull? I have two cans in the trunk."