Junxun

The response to SN 7-020 was a fist. He was dragged away from the gun by Shi Shanyan. Unable to pry Shi Shanyan's arm off, he could only pull a tactical straight blade from his pants pocket. The 6.4-centimeter blade was forged entirely from carbon steel, and it swung toward Shi Shanyan with a sharp warning.

Shi Shanyan seized SN 7-020's wrist with one hand, disarming him with a reverse twist. SN 7-020's mouth was open, difficult gasps escaping his throat. Shi Shanyan punched SN 7-020 in the chest and abdomen, hitting him until he was about to vomit.

The Observer on guard in the rear quickly lunged over. Shi Shanyan released SN 7-020, spun around, and forcefully knocked the Observer down with his elbow. The coughing SN 7-020 reached for his disarmed tactical blade, but Shi Shanyan stepped on his hand, then kicked him over.

The Observer sprang up using the strength of his waist, grabbed a nearby bucket, and smashed it toward Shi Shanyan's head. Shi Shanyan dodged it and, as he approached the Observer, threw a straight punch to his face. The Observer's mouth filled with blood. He tried to block with his arm while retreating, but Shi Shanyan's force was too fierce. Before he could retreat to the pillar behind him, he had already fallen.

The bucket rolled erratically on the ground.

Shi Shanyan flipped the Observer over with his foot and whistled at SN 7-020 while loading his gun.

“Don't...” SN 7-020 said, scooting on his side along the ground and clutching his head. “Don't!”

Shi Shanyan shot the Observer.

The Observer cried out in pain, curled up, and clutched his leg, gasping for breath on the ground. Blood immediately stained his pants.

Under SN 7-020's gaze, Shi Shanyan shot the Observer again.

The Observer was in so much pain he lost his voice; both his legs were ruined. During a brief moment of gasping with his eyes closed, sweat poured down his face, his chest heaved violently, and he couldn't even meet Shi Shanyan's eyes.

SN 7-020's voice was faint. “Fuck you...”

Shi Shanyan continued to shoot.

The veins on the Observer's temples bulged from the pain. With this shot, he screamed, followed by agonized gasps. He was curled up at Shi Shanyan's feet, his face covered in tears—an uncontrollable physiological reaction. He was in so much pain he was going numb.

An excellent Observer is crucial for a sniper. He is not only responsible for gathering intelligence for the sniper but also for covering his back. Such two-person partnerships are often forged in life and death.

“I'm sorry!” SN 7-020 watched Shi Shanyan raise his hand again and shouted hoarsely, clutching his head. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” He knocked his forehead against the ground, his false eyelashes irritating his eyes until they were completely red. He choked out, “Big brother, I'm sorry!”

Shi Shanyan got his apology. He smiled and replied, “It's fine.”

Then, amidst SN 7-020's apologies, he killed the Observer.

......

Li Hu scrambled under the desk on all fours.

Yan Junxun squatted opposite him, watching Li Hu with a blank expression amidst his terrified screams. He was a little hungry and just wanted to get this over with quickly.

Li Hu scooted backward, trembling, and raised his hands toward Yan Junxun. “I'll give you all the prize money, just spare my life,” he said. Before Yan Junxun could speak, he hurriedly added, “I'll give you any information you want!”

Yan Junxun stared at Li Hu. The frames of his glasses didn't cover the beauty mark by his eye, which made him look a bit more mature. He tossed the keycard from Qi Shi's body in front of Li Hu and asked, “Do you remember Bai Jingqing?”

Li Hu first shook his head, then nodded rapidly. He didn't dare raise his hand to point, instead gesturing frantically with his chin for Yan Junxun to look toward the door. “She knows! She and Bai Jingqing are sisters!”

Lihua was still huddled in the corner.

Yan Junxun stood up, but at that very moment, he felt the sound of rain in his ears intensifying.

A torrential downpour beat against the glass, leaving shattered-looking streaks of rain.

Yan Junxun looked toward the living room's floor-to-ceiling window. It wasn't raining in the Docking Area; it was quiet here. But he could really hear the sound of rain, a sound that lingered like a midnight ghost.

The lights inside the room suddenly went out. A series of light screens lit up, surrounding Yan Junxun.

The Clown was stuffing chips into his mouth, getting crumbs all over himself. He flashed his snow-white teeth at the camera, stared at Yan Junxun, and said, “He—llo!”

Yan Junxun shot and destroyed Li Hu's Communicator, but it was useless; the light screens remained.

“You're too irritable,” The Clown said, pointing at Yan Junxun with the hand holding the chips. “What happened to your emotional control? Losing it? Yan Junxun?”

The sound of rain in Yan Junxun's ears grew louder. He then raised his hand and shot the room's sound system, yet the rain sound still didn't disappear.

“Are you hearing the sound of rain? I hear it too, we all hear it,” The Clown said, sitting there and looking around. He waved at the unseen audience, feigning being overwhelmed. “The audience's reaction is so enthusiastic! Everyone is looking forward to a fight to the death between you and me. Are you willing? Of course you're willing,” he raised his excited voice, “You are Artemis's good little boy, after all!”

A dozen or so light screens expanded simultaneously, enclosing Yan Junxun in the center. Cheers and whistles emanated from the screens. In the blinding white light, Yan Junxun felt as if he were facing an audience of thousands.

“I killed you in that drag race!” The Clown stood up, kicking the dirty trash cans. “And now, please enjoy the clip of me killing you!”

The image on the light screens switched, showing the racing “madman” from Chen Xiulian's case. The “madman” wore no makeup; it was Yan Junxun's face. He faced Yan Junxun, faced the camera, raised his gun to his own forehead, and screamed like a maniac, “Your fate!”

Fuck!

Yan Junxun didn't close his eyes. He felt the blood from back then splashing on his face again.

Cheers erupted from the light screens. The audience was excited; they loved this kind of scene. The cheers disturbed Yan Junxun, his mind filled with explosions, heavy rain, and splattering blood.

Yan Junxun's tone was fierce. “Turn it off!”

“Oh,” The Clown lowered his raised hand and turned the camera in another direction, toward the countless cameras in the dark background. “He told me to turn it off.”

Those cameras were like eyes, flashing with countless red lights.

Yan Junxun suddenly fired at the light screen. The bullet passed through it and shot down a decorative painting on the wall.

“Kill him,” someone suggested, though it was unclear who spoke first. “Slit his throat!”

The cameras swiveled to follow The Clown's camera, their movements too synchronized, so synchronized it made Yan Junxun nauseous. He wanted to throw up.

“Listen, everyone wants to keep watching. Give me some reaction,” The Clown leaned his face close to the camera, his red nose nearly pressing against the screen. “Didn't Artemis teach you any manners?”

Yan Junxun's abdomen was suddenly struck, and he nearly choked on stomach acid.

“You're just asking for a beating.” The Clown let go of the Communicator and took a few steps back. “What are you here for? Oh, to investigate a case. Why are you investigating cases? You should be the one committing them.”

As The Clown spoke, Yan Junxun took another punch to the face. His breathing grew heavier. The blackboard in his mind seemed to have been hit as well; the chalk broke, and the distorted sound strained his nerves. He pressed his tongue against the cut inside his mouth, and then he was knocked over completely, his head forced down amidst the smell of blood.

“You always hold your head so high,” The Clown squatted down. “What the fuck are you even doing?”

The back of Yan Junxun's head was held down, his forehead knocking against the ground. His breathing was rapid. The feverish state he was in caused him to sweat nonstop.

“Artemis put a cover over you, treating you like the only flower in its garden,” The Clown carefully raised his hand and made a ‘snipping’ motion. “I respect it, so I'm going to prune you for it. You've grown crooked. You've grown a Black Panther's tail and turned into a monster.” He neurotically hugged his knees and said urgently, “I'm going to kill that Panda. It's sick. It's the one that infected you first.”

The Clown pulled out a knife and stuck it in the ground by his foot.

“I'm going to stab its data to pieces!”

He tilted his head strangely and asked Yan Junxun through the light screen.

“Are you angry? You piece of trash.”

Yan Junxun felt like he couldn't take it anymore. His head hurt terribly, giving him the illusion that it was about to explode. He heard those sounds—the downpour, the sirens, the cheers, and the explosions. They buried his blackboard, buried his world.

Stop.

Yan Junxun commanded himself, commanded his thoughts. He tugged at his hair, but the world inside his head had already started spinning wildly. Dazzling data, like a monstrous wave, instantly engulfed him.

In his memory, Artemis's glass began to crack, the fissures instantly crawling across the entire surface.

“Support from the Supervisory Bureau is on its way—”

Jue's voice disappeared without warning.

Piao Lin hadn't even had time to stand up before the room's lights went out. He froze for a moment, then picked up his Communicator and tried to make a call, but it was useless. The call wouldn't go through.

“What's wrong?” Piao Lin pushed open the door and shouted toward the main hall, “Jue suddenly went—”

Piao Lin only got halfway through his sentence before the system camera overhead suddenly exploded. Piao Lin covered his head as he heard all the system cameras in the main hall blow up. His first reaction was to dive to the floor, shouting, “A terrorist attack?!”

Su Heting's light screen also went dead. He tapped the keyboard a few times, but none of the equipment responded. He slid his chair to the window and saw that the Light Rail District looked like a car that had suddenly stalled.

There were no alarms or warnings. Darkness swept over everything like a tide.

“7-001 re-examination complete.”

“7-001 account rebooted.”

“Welcome, honored Son of the Hunt.”

The cameras behind The Clown all exploded in an instant. Amidst the flying fragments, he covered his ears and shrieked bizarrely, “Welcome! Yan Junxun!”

The rain beat down on Yan Junxun—that imaginary rain. In his drenched exhaustion, he heard the voice of Artemis.

“We are always living among the crowd.”