Roylena stared at Qin Siyang with undisguised wariness, clearly doubting his words.
Qin Siyang shrugged. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't absolutely certain. So I hope you'll show a little patience and keep talking to me."
"What do you want?"
"Didn't I already say? I want you to introduce me to the person who forged your Sequence ability registration."
Roylena pressed further. "And then what?"
"And then… sigh. It seems you really weren't listening. First, take your hand off the trigger guard."
Seeing the murderous intent in Roylena's eyes, Qin Siyang knew she'd try to shoot him no matter what. He sighed helplessly.
"Don't waste your energy. Before I came here, I set up a timed email that will be sent to every officer at the police station. First thing tomorrow morning, everyone will know your ability is fake. If I don't make it back tonight to adjust the delay, you'll be exposed by tomorrow."
"So even if you kill me, it won't do you any good."
"What?! " Roylena froze.
She'd never expected the masked man to have a backup plan!
Now, true panic set in.
Events were spiraling in the worst possible direction for her.
"Besides, you can't kill me anyway."
While Roylena was distracted, Qin Siyang activated his [Brute Force] ability. He pushed off the ground with one foot and launched himself forward like a projectile.
Roylena was a Sequence Ability user—not a low-ranked one. Her sensory perception and agility far surpassed those of ordinary humans.
Even so, she could only watch as Qin Siyang charged toward her at incredible speed, unable to react in time.
Qin Siyang snatched the gun from Roylena's hand, then jumped back two steps, maintaining a safe distance between them.
"What are you doing?!"
Qin Siyang spun the gun casually in his hand, teasing her. "I talked until I was blue in the face, but you wouldn't believe me. I had to prove it with action."
As he spoke, he pointed the gun at Roylena. Her eyes filled with terror instantly.
"W-what do you really want?"
"I told you—I just want to talk. Now, I think you can calm down."
With that, Qin Siyang lowered the gun.
"Now, tell me. How do I contact this person?"
Roylena glanced at Qin Siyang, seeing no sign of murderous intent. Reluctantly, she answered his question.
"I don't know who they are. A friend told me they could help me with the registration. All I know is that they're a regular at the Echo Virtual Chatroom. If you want to find them, you'll have to hang around there regularly."
"How do I know which one is them?"
"Observe carefully in the chatroom. You'll find them."
Qin Siyang could tell Roylena was holding back. He smiled. "Observe carefully? I don't have that much time. Would it work if I asked, 'Who can help me like they helped Roylena'?"
Roylena gritted her teeth in anger.
"Enter the chatroom eight times repeatedly. They'll contact you on their own."
"Good. And then?"
"Then you give them your name, personal information, and the ability you want to fake. They'll help you pass the Sequence Ability Administration Bureau's registration assessment."
"I don't have to go to the Administration Bureau myself?"
"You do. But just show up at the time they tell you to pick up your registration certificate as a registered Sequence Ability user."
"So I can skip the assessment entirely?"
"Yes. You can skip it."
Qin Siyang mentally reviewed Roylena's words—they seemed plausible enough.
"I've told you everything you wanted to know. Can you give me my gun back now?"
Qin Siyang looked up at her and shook his head.
"No?! What more do you want from me before you return it?!"
Every police officer was issued a service weapon with a unique serial number. These guns were regularly collected for inspections to check for wear and tear.
If an officer failed to turn in their gun, it would be noticed immediately.
Losing a service weapon was a serious offense. At the very least, she'd be suspended from duty. If the gun was used in a violent incident, she'd be dismissed from the force without question.
Roylena had gone to great lengths—including forging her ability—to get into the police station. She clearly valued this job more than anything. She couldn't let all her efforts be ruined by Qin Siyang.
"You answered my questions because I know your secret. To keep me from exposing it, you had no choice but to tell me about the fake registration."
"But I took this gun when you tried to kill me. That doesn't count as part of your answer to my questions."
Qin Siyang smiled. "Getting your gun back? That's a separate deal."
"What do you want?!"
Roylena was on the verge of breaking down.
She'd never expected Qin Siyang to be so difficult to handle. From start to finish, she'd been on the back foot, unable to take control of the situation.
"Tell me your real Sequence ability."
"You're dreaming! " Roylena trembled with rage, like a golden lioness oozing with murderous intent under the dim starlight.
"I'm a man of my word. Since you answered my questions, I promise I won't tell anyone about your fake ability."
"But you're not getting this gun back. With it, killing people will be much easier for me from now on."
"Though—"
"You might have to take the blame for some of those killings."
"You! You villain! I never did anything to you! Why can't you just leave me alone?!"
"Your real ability. Tell me, and I'll give you back the gun."
"Do you have any idea how hard I worked to become a police officer? I even sacrificed my innocence for this!"
"Your real ability."
"You heartless devil! Do you really have to destroy me to be satisfied?!"
"Ability."
No matter how much Roylena ranted and raved, Qin Siyang repeated his question coldly.
He spoke in shorter and shorter bursts— a sign his patience was running out.
"Roylena. If your next words aren't your ability, I'm leaving. And I can guarantee your low-level scent-tracking item will never find me."
Roylena's turquoise eyes were bloodshot with madness, looking particularly terrifying in the dark woods.
As for Qin Siyang, his face hidden behind the cloth, he stood across from her like a mere observer—no emotion whatsoever in his demeanor.
If it weren't for his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, one might have mistaken him for a strange human statue.