The Eve of the Storm

As evening fell, the light in the study gradually dimmed. Lin Feng didn't turn on the light, letting the twilight slowly engulf the room's outline. He sat at his desk, unconsciously twirling a pen in his hand, his gaze fixed on the city lights gradually illuminating outside the window.

Deep within his consciousness, the special connection established with Golden Sun transmitted a brief but clearly meaningful wave of thought—not language, but more like a confirmation of a state: [Personnel in position, infiltration complete. Awaiting orders.]

Lin Feng stopped twirling his pen. The seventy-two-hour deadline was precise, down to the second. He replied, equally concisely: [Understood. Proceed as planned. Ensure K's safety.]

[Primary Objective.] Golden Sun's thoughts were calm and undisturbed, then the connection faded, and silence returned.

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had done what he could. The rest was to be left to those people far away in Northern Myanmar, to K, to Bai Shan, to those agents whose faces he didn't even know, yet to whom he had to entrust his life.

He knew that at this very moment, in some corner of that chaotic place, invisible gears had already meshed, and the spring was being wound tight. A storm, brewing for one person, was about to suddenly descend upon the unknown darkness.

The lights in the finance office remained starkly bright, illuminating K's calm, expressionless face. The cash flow data on the screen continued to scroll, and A Long's posture leaning against the wall remained largely unchanged; everything was the same as it had been for the past few dozen hours.

But K knew things were different now.

Just minutes before, he received the entire operation plan relayed by Lin Feng. Immediately afterward, the one-way receiving node hidden deep within the ventilation duct also transmitted the agreed-upon, one-time-use dynamic identification code and a set of concise confirmation and emergency communication hand signals.

K's fingers continued typing at the same pace, still handling routine financial transactions. But his brain, like the most sophisticated computer, began executing another pre-programmed sequence.

He accessed the core server's underlying management interface (he had already obtained the highest privileges, but had been posing as an ordinary user).

This server controls the entire campus's internal communications, access control logs, some surveillance storage, and—most importantly—that rudimentary but crucial internal network. He wrote a seemingly ordinary "automatic system log archiving and backup" script, set to trigger automatically at 3:25 AM.

The core function of the script is to inject extremely small, almost undetectable, anomalous code into several critical processes of the server during execution, using very high privileges.

These codes will not take effect immediately, but under certain conditions (such as a sudden surge in external network requests or an abnormal termination of the core process), they can trigger a chain reaction that causes a sharp drop in server processing speed, severe delays and noise in internal communication, and malfunctions in access control and some monitoring logging functions.

In short, this is a carefully disguised seed for creating a brief but sufficiently exploitable "systemic disruption." The trigger conditions were set by him to be either "system time synchronization service anomaly" or "core switching equipment traffic surge of more than 300%"—which likely correspond to moments of external attack or destruction of critical nodes.

At the same time, he checked the detailed map in his mind one last time:

The location of the gun locker in the internal security dormitory (with a regular padlock), the path from the back door of the kitchen to the recess in the wall, the guard shift change in the main building (there is a 3-minute window at 3:00 AM), and the second floor of his own finance office. After climbing out of the bathroom ventilation duct (which he has tampered with so the fence can be removed), one can reach the adjacent storage room where cleaning tools are stored. There is a small, north-facing window there that is locked year-round but severely rusted. Below the window is a narrow alley on the side of the main building, which is almost deserted.

He packaged this information, along with the newly received identification code and codeword, into a data packet disguised as a normal system error log, using an encryption method that only he and Captain "Bai Shan" could decrypt. He set it to be automatically sent out at 2:55 AM through that hidden one-way node. At that time, the specific receiving device carried by Captain Bai Shan would capture it.

After doing all this, K picked up the water on the table, which had long since gone cold, and took a sip. His expressionless eyes were reflected in the water.

He glanced at the time in the bottom right corner of the screen.

Less than ten hours until the storm.

The park at night was even more oppressive than during the day. Except for the "office area" building, which was still brightly lit and faintly filled with noise, the rest of the area was shrouded in darkness and silence. There were only a few scattered lights in the dormitory area, and the beams of the patrol team's flashlights swept regularly across the perimeter wall.

Bai Shan (A Mu) lay on a makeshift bed made of planks and tattered cotton in the corner of the repair team's warehouse, his eyes closed, breathing evenly, seemingly asleep. Several other repair team laborers were also lying in the warehouse, their snores rising and falling.

But his mind was perfectly clear. His ears picked up on everything outside: the footsteps of the patrol team, the occasional cough from the watchtower in the distance, the howling of the night wind blowing through the tin roof. The miniature receiver hidden in his hair was always on standby.

At one o'clock in the morning, the receiver transmitted an extremely faint vibration that only he could perceive. A series of encrypted pulse signals.

His eyes remained closed, and his fingers, under the dirty thin blanket, tapped lightly on the outside of his thighs with a specific rhythm, decoding information.

It was the final confirmation and path information sent by target "K", and most importantly, the operation time: 3:30 AM.

Bai Shan's fingers stopped tapping. He kept his eyes closed, and in absolute darkness, he mentally rehearsed the entire operation plan one last time, as if conducting a war game on a sand table.

3:00: He needs to get up and use "diarrhea" as an excuse to go to the toilet. In the toilet stall, he uses coded gestures (touching the ear for "armory," patting the shoulder for "sentry tower," clenching his fist for "main building," etc.) to complete a final silent confirmation and mission fine-tuning with other team members who might have used the same excuse and are waiting nearby. At the same time, he activates the miniature signal jammer hidden on his body (with limited coverage, mainly used to block sudden communications in a very small area during the initial stage of the operation).

3:25: K's program is expected to be triggered, and internal communications within the park begin to become unstable. This is his preparatory signal for action (a specific call that imitates a night bird, accompanied by a modified small whistle in his toolkit).

3:30: Power outage ("Qingsong" in charge). Simultaneously, each group starts its operations according to the predetermined objectives.

He (Bai Shan) led four men straight to the main building, cleared out the guards, took control of the "General," and obtained the Key and password.

"Black Stone" (Kitchen) and two others take over the security guard dormitory and seize their weapons.

The other group took care of the two watchtowers, one to the east and one to the west.

The remaining men dispersed to create chaos, cover K's escape route, and deal with any sporadic resistance that might arise.

3:40: Regardless of whether the main building is successfully captured, issue a full control signal (the security guards who have taken over the control announce this over their walkie-talkies). Begin evacuating the "piglet" (individuals), destroy core data, and finally demolish key facilities (such as generators and servers) before leaving.

There are two evacuation routes, to be chosen depending on the situation. K will personally lead two escorts, taking the most secluded route through the kitchen back door and the recessed area in the wall, where a vehicle will be waiting at the designated location.

After completing the simulation, Bai Shan slowly exhaled a breath of stale air. Plans can never keep up with changes, and the battlefield is ever-changing, but thorough preparation and meticulous contingency plans are fundamental to surviving and completing the mission.

He gently turned over, facing the wall, as if adjusting his posture in his sleep. Only he knew that at this moment, all the muscles and nerves in his body were like a slowly drawn bowstring, full of power, waiting only for the command to be released and tear through the darkness.

A Bin tossed and turned on the hard bed, unable to sleep. It wasn't from exhaustion, but from a strange, increasingly intense anxiety. The dormitory was filled with the sounds of snoring, sleep talking, and teeth grinding, the air thick and heavy, but he felt that tonight was different.

He couldn't quite put his finger on what was different. The patrol team's flashlights seemed to be shining more perfunctorily than usual? The security guards on night watch downstairs seemed to be talking in hushed tones, their tone a little impatient? Or... those new guys, especially the electrician "A Mu" and the kitchen helper "Old Shi," he thought he saw them exchange a glance from afar during dinner tonight. That look... was so quick it seemed like an illusion, but it definitely didn't seem like a conversation between ordinary workers.

He recalled the moment "A Mu's " body tensed and then relaxed when Brother Bo hit someone during the day. He also remembered that "Old Shi" seemed honest and simple, but his back was always unconsciously straight when he walked.

The ripples of unease in his heart were magnified into a raging storm in the silent night. He gripped the thin, stiff blanket tightly, his nails digging into his palms. What would happen? What could possibly happen? This was Northern Myanmar, the general's territory, high walls and barbed wire, guns and men.

But... what if...?

He remembered what the elders back home had said: the heat before a storm is unbearable, and even livestock become restless. He was now like that livestock sensing the storm.

He heard someone softly sobbing in the next bunk; it was the young man who had been beaten during the day. The voice was low, filled with pain and despair. Suddenly, A Bin felt as if that crying was a needle piercing the last bit of numbness in his heart, and something cold flowed in.

He dared not think any further, burying his face in the musty-smelling pillow and forcing himself to close his eyes.

Outside the window, the night was as thick as ink.

There's still a little over an hour until 3:30 AM.

The wind seemed to have stopped, and even the chirping of insects had ceased. The entire park was enveloped in a deathly, suffocating silence.

As if waiting for something.

Or perhaps, it is being slowly tightened and surrounded by something invisible.