Lo Xi tightly clutched the wafer-thin bio-collection film in her pocket as she hurried down the company's narrow, desolate corridors. Her heart thumped like a drum, each beat a reminder of her recent risk—the warning from "B" still echoing in her mind: the material of the collector cannot pass subsequent precision scans. A cold breeze blew from the air vent at the end of the hallway, carrying the metallic and disinfectant scent, making her shiver slightly.
Back at her workstation, she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The fluorescent office lights were harshly white, and every keystroke seemed to tap out some hidden code. The clicking echoed through the empty space, tightening her nerves. The glow of the monitor reflected on her pale face; every reflection felt like a pair of eyes scrutinizing her. She had to decode the data quickly—before anyone discovered her—or all her efforts would be for nothing.
"Lo Xi?" Manager Wang's voice suddenly came from behind, faintly severe.
She snapped her folder shut, the movement almost too abrupt. "Yes, manager? Is there something you need?"
Manager Wang squinted, letting his gaze linger on her face for a moment, as if trying to catch a hint of abnormality. "You look pale. Have you been overworking recently?"
"Maybe I didn't sleep well last night," Lo Xi forced a smile, her lips stiff. "I'll take care."
Once he left, she realized her palms were clammy with sweat. The office felt suffocatingly monitored, as if the air itself had eyes and ears. She checked the time—two hours remained until the end of her shift. That was enough to begin analyzing the collected data.
She launched her self-written decryption program and began parsing the biological information line by line. The progress bar crept forward slowly; each second felt like a race against time. She held her breath, fearing that even the slightest hesitation might trigger an alert. As the analysis neared completion, the office lights flickered; the illumination wavered like waves.
"Power fluctuation," a nearby colleague whispered. "B Zone must be under maintenance again."
B Zone? Her heart sank. She tried connecting to the internal network but found all B3 Zone permissions temporarily locked. A system message popped up: [Due to system upgrades, some data interfaces are temporarily inaccessible. Expected recovery in two hours.]
Too coincidental. It was as if someone knew exactly what she was doing.
After work, she didn't go home immediately. Instead, she detoured to a tech market and found an inconspicuous electronics repair shop. The cramped space was filled with dismantled computers and scattered components, the air thick with solder and plastic—a tense omen in itself.
"This is decent, but primitive," the old man, wearing magnifying glasses, inspected the collection film. "Modern biometric systems have anti-spoofing measures; this thin membrane won't fool them."
He retrieved a metal box from under the counter. "You'll need this—a nano-level bio-information replicator. It can simulate real vascular patterns. But it's expensive, and…" His gaze lingered on her meaningfully. "This isn't something an ordinary company employee should buy."
Lo Xi asked no questions and paid in cash, leaving no trace. As she departed, she felt the old man's eyes following her—a silent reminder that she had stepped onto a dangerous path.
That night, in her apartment, she studied the company's internal architecture diagrams carefully. The B3 Zone security was more complex than she imagined: besides vein recognition, there were gait analyses, body temperature monitoring, and detailed logs for every door's opening and closing. Acting alone would be nearly impossible. Her fingers traced each corridor on the blueprint; each calculation sent her pulse racing.
At that moment, her phone lit up. A message appeared:
"10:00 AM tomorrow, fire drill. B3 Zone east corridor cameras will be offline for 27 minutes. This is your only chance. —B"
Her fingers trembled slightly. The trap was obvious—but the temptation was equally strong. She replied: "Why help me?"
A few minutes later, the response: "Not helping you. This is for the truth."
The next day, the office atmosphere was unusual. Announcements reminded everyone of the fire drill repeatedly, and colleagues whispered among themselves. Lo Xi noticed that a few researchers who usually stayed in B Zone were missing. Even Li, normally joking and lively, had vanished.
At 9:55 AM, she excused herself to the restroom and quietly moved toward the B3 Zone east corridor. The camera had indeed stopped moving; the cold metal reflected her tense face.
At the corridor's end, an unassuming gray metal door stood quietly, unmarked. Unlike the doors she had seen before, it required both palm and voice authentication.
As she hesitated, the door silently slid open. A figure in a white lab coat appeared, face shield distorting their voice, eyes wide in surprise—it was Dr. Chen from R&D.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was cold, sharp. "This area is off-limits."
Lo Xi's heart skipped. She stammered, "I-I'm sorry, I must have taken a wrong turn… the drill… I couldn't find the assembly point…"
Dr. Chen squinted, then his communicator buzzed. "Drill ends early. Return to post immediately."
He clicked his tongue, ignored her further, and shut the door. In that instant, she glimpsed a spiral staircase, descending into darkness, as if leading to an abyss of the unknown.
Back at her workstation, a new email popped up. The sender was anonymous. The content:
"Curiosity kills cats. Stop investigating. —Q"
It wasn't Qin Xiao's style—cold, direct, almost threatening.
During lunch, she tried to contact "B" again, but the encrypted channel seemed nonexistent. Now she knew two people were aware of her investigation: the mysterious "B," and the one who sent the warning email, "Q."
After work, she visited the café Lin Aunt used to frequent. Rain drizzled outside, sliding down the glass like her tangled thoughts, unstoppable.
Her phone vibrated. An unknown number. She hesitated before answering.
"Miss Lo," Qin Xiao's voice was icy, devoid of warmth. "It seems you completely ignored my warning."
Lo Xi gripped the phone, knuckles white. "I don't understand."
A faint, humorless laugh. "Tomorrow morning. My office. 9:00 sharp. Stop playing with fire."
The call ended. Rain pelted harder, striking the glass like it was striking her heart.
Across the street, a black car sat parked. The window slowly rolled down, and before it fully closed, she caught a familiar pair of eyes—it was Dr. Chen.
He had been following her.
Lo Xi stood, leaving through the café's back door. Rain drenched her hair and clothes, but she dared not pause. She slipped into a convenience store, peering through the glass. The black car passed slowly, shadows stretching in the streetlight.
She took a deep breath. Danger was close at hand. There was no turning back; the only way forward was to uncover all the secrets—no matter the cost.
Night deepened, rain relentless. Lo Xi stood by the window, staring at the city washed clean by rain. Somewhere in the glittering lights, the answer to Lin Aunt's disappearance was hidden.
And she was inching closer—step by step—toward it, step by step toward peril.