Lu Xi sat at her workstation, staring at meaningless spreadsheets on the screen, her fingers icy. The anonymous message from last night still burned in her mind like a brand:
Gamma series. Brain tissue degradation. Dr. Aris's failed experiments. Qin Xiao knows and is exploiting it.
She lifted her coffee cup, taking a sip to hide the pallor of her face. The office hummed with normalcy: the tapping of keyboards, the occasional ring of phones creating a familiar white noise. Yet in her eyes, everyone was suddenly shrouded in suspicion.
Who was the mysterious "B" who sent that message?
"Lu Xi," Manager Wang's voice snapped her back, nearly causing her to spill her coffee, "deliver these files to Dr. Chen in R&D Section B. Have him sign for them and bring back the receipt.
Section B. Behind that door requiring dual authentication.
"Yes, Manager." Lu Xi accepted the folder, her heartbeat accelerating. This might be her chance.
Clutching the files, she walked toward the metal door. As expected, beyond the usual card swipe and iris scan, there was a faintly glowing blue panel—a vein scanner. A researcher in a white coat was operating the door. Lu Xi slowed, pretending to organize her documents, keeping her eyes fixed on the action from the corner of her eye.
The researcher completed the card swipe and iris scan, then naturally pressed the left ring finger on the blue panel. A soft "beep" sounded, and the heavy door slid open.
Lu Xi memorized every movement.
She couldn't enter yet, so she pressed the intercom beside the door. Moments later, a young researcher came out to receive the files.
"The signed receipt will be delivered later," he said, his tone cold, carrying the air of Section B's exclusivity.
"Thank you." Lu Xi nodded, eyes quickly scanning inside. The corridor was bright and spotless, lined with transparent glass laboratories. Researchers in full protective suits moved busily, precision instruments blinking with indicator lights. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and something slightly sweet.
On the way back to her desk, she passed the break room and overheard two researchers complaining:
"…Aris is furious again. The Gamma-9 data fluctuates wildly—completely off target…"
"The sample sources are getting increasingly unstable. If this continues, the project might be shut down…"
Gamma-9. Another designation. Unstable samples? Could they be referring to the test subjects?
In the afternoon, Lu Xi volunteered to check the lab's supply inventory, giving her access to procurement records. Among the piles of chemical reagents and petri dish orders, she noticed an unusual entry: a large quantity of high-concentration nutrient solutions and sedatives, far exceeding what was needed for normal cell culture—more like… for large living organisms.
And the delivery location was not the main warehouse but marked specifically as a receiving point in B3.
B3? She only knew Section B, never heard of B3. Underground?
After work, she didn't leave immediately. Waiting until the office was nearly empty, she pretended to stay late, taking out the special phone again. After a moment's hesitation, she didn't contact "B" but sent an encrypted message to Qin Xiao—the emergency contact he had left, with strict instructions for nonessential use:
"Found unusually large amounts of sedatives and nutrient solution in procurement list, delivered to B3. Does the Gamma project involve live subjects? How extensive is it?"
Her chest thumped heavily. She wanted to see how Qin Xiao would respond—would he continue to hide the truth or reveal part of it?
The wait was excruciating. Ten minutes later, her phone lit up.
"Focus on your observation duties. No need to probe the delivery details. The Gamma project is top-secret; knowing too much is of no benefit to you. —Q"
A cold, commanding reply, almost dismissing her suspicion, yet subtly not denying "live subjects," only warning her not to dig further.
Knowing too much is of no benefit to you.
Lu Xi could almost picture his indifferent expression as he typed. He wanted her confined to a safe zone, providing surface-level intelligence, a pawn to be sacrificed at any time.
Anger and unspeakable disappointment surged. She turned off the phone and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
If he wouldn't tell her, she would find out herself.
She remembered the public server in the administration department had an internal directory and department map—simplified, but potentially revealing.
She searched "Aris"—no results. Tried "neuroregeneration," "hippocampus," "Gamma"—still blank.
Just as she was about to give up, she recalled "Archiving Department" mentioned in the message. She searched, and the screen popped up:
Data Management and Archiving Department (Archiving Dept.)
Head: Zhao Yuanqi
Department Code: ADM-07
Location: B3-West Wing
B3! It existed! And the Archiving Dept. was in B3.
Zhao Yuanqi—key person?
She jotted it down and immediately cleared her browsing history. Just as she prepared to exit, a new internal announcement appeared:
[Notice: Monthly maintenance of B3's fire system will occur tomorrow 14:00–16:00. Some network and surveillance lines may be temporarily disrupted, with brief power fluctuations. Relevant personnel, please be informed.]
Monthly maintenance? Network and cameras down?
A bold plan quickly formed in her mind.
The next day at 1:50 PM, Lu Xi arrived early, hiding in a storage room near Section B's metal door—a blind spot for surveillance. Holding a document labeled "urgent delivery," she pretended to wait, heart pounding.
At exactly 2:00 PM, the lights flickered subtly, nearly imperceptible. Simultaneously, the green indicator on the metal door went out—network disconnected.
Now!
She rushed to the metal door. Did the access system have independent power? She took a deep breath, recalling the researcher's movements from last night, and pulled out a universal key card—borrowed yesterday from a careless maintenance worker, which she needed to return promptly—swiping it on the reader.
Red light. Access denied. Expected.
Perfect. She quickly took out a thin, phone-film-like tool, carefully applied it to the vein scanner. Based on schematics she had studied, it was a makeshift biomembrane collector capable of recording a user's vein pattern in seconds.
She finished in under ten seconds and retreated into the storage room's shadow.
Minutes later, a researcher hurriedly swiped his card, completed the iris scan, and pressed his finger on the scanner—precisely on the collector she placed.
Beep. The door slid open. The researcher entered, and Lu Xi swiftly picked up the collector and hid it.
Success! She obtained the first vein pattern.
Though still far from entering B3, this step was crucial. Her heart pounded, a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
Just as she was about to leave, her phone vibrated—"B."
"Daring move. The collector material cannot pass subsequent precision scans. Suggest consulting before next action. —B"
Lu Xi's blood ran cold. They had seen! Always watching! Who were they?
Yet the message was not a threat, more like a warning.
She leaned against the cold wall, feeling as if she were at the center of a giant web, invisible eyes all around. Qin Xiao's exploitation, the mystery of "B," Aris's mad experiments, the missing Lin Yi…
At that moment, she clenched the small biomembrane in her hand—her first trophy, the first glimmer of light in the cracks of darkness.