novelraw Chapter 11: Sea of Darkness - (11)
Chapter 11: Sea of Darkness - (11)
Shu Xuyao instructed, “Yadang, play the recording provided by the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.” Following Yadang’s response, a video segment popped up.
In the pristine white treatment room, the chief psychiatrist sat behind a table, facing the mentally ill criminal, Chai Jian, across from him.
With gaunt cheeks, stubble covering his face, deep-set eyes, and heavy bags beneath them, Chai Jian was restrained to the chair by straps. He strained to widen his eyes, hands clenched into fists. “I’m really not from Black Sea City. Yes, my name is indeed Chai Jian, but I haven’t committed any crimes; I’m not a mentally ill offender! There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“Alright, I understand. Please calm down, Mr. Chai!” The psychiatrist leaned back, speaking cautiously, fearful of further agitating the emotionally charged Chai Jian.
“What do you know?” Chai Jian exclaimed vehemently. “I’m not lying! I’m not a criminal! I haven’t committed any crime! I am not mentally ill!”
“Mr. Chai, I comprehend your point.” Secretly, the psychiatrist pressed the alarm button under the table. If Chai Jian made any aggressive moves, guards outside would rush in to subdue him.
“You don’t understand shit! I just took a nap, and after waking up, I found myself in this damn place! I am Chai Jian from Jiangling, and I haven’t committed any crime!” Chai Jian yelled hysterically, and even through the holographic projection, one could feel the despair and confusion emanating from him. “Lawyer, get me a lawyer! I want to report this!”
The psychotherapist said, “Mr. Chai, as a sixth-class citizen, your political rights have been revoked. You do not have the right to appeal, and we cannot help you obtain a lawyer.”
“Fucking hell, what bullshit are you spouting?!” Chai Jian broke free from his restraints, leaped out of the chair, and lunged to grab the psychotherapist by the collar.The psychotherapist pressed the alarm button while swiftly dodging back.
The door to the treatment room burst open, and hospital security guards rushed in, overpowering Chai Jian and forcefully pressing his face against the table.
“I’m not a criminal; I’m not!” With his face distorted by the pressure, Chai Jian’s words were mumbled but persistently repeated.
The psychotherapist quickly withdrew a sedative from their white coat and injected it into Chai Jian’s neck.
Chai Jian muttered dazedly, “Let me… go home…”
He closed his eyes, succumbing to unconsciousness due to the medication’s effect.
Kui Xin expressionlessly observed this scene unfold.
Her own start was already perilous enough; compared to her, Xi Liang’s beginning seemed ordinary, with most financial difficulties. But Chai Jian… considering his tragic circumstances, Kui Xin couldn’t determine who had it worse between him and herself.
Chai Jian’s emotions were extremely agitated, leaving him in an irrational state. If he had calmed down, he likely could have effortlessly summoned the game system’s interface, clarifying his current basic status. His overwhelming panic and fear caused him to lose his ability to reason.
Kui Xin wondered how many people genuinely read the announcements and documents when signing up for the game, and how many remembered those six pieces of advice and resolved to follow them? She knew that many individuals, while playing games, would simply click “agree” without even glancing at the required statements.
It was possible that Chai Jian hadn’t carefully read the game-related emails at all. Unaware of the survival rules, he found himself at a disadvantage.
She learned that the Federation abolished capital punishment eighty years ago. If Chai Jian had stayed put and received treatment at the psychiatric hospital without causing any trouble, he would never face danger throughout his life, ultimately dying peacefully of old age. The loss of his freedom would be the price he’d pay.
But Chai Jian escaped.
With this escape, the Investigation Department now has the authority to directly kill him on sight during their pursuit.
When Kui Xin killed two robbers, she didn’t receive any disciplinary action. If the Seventh Squad eliminates Chai Jian, not only will they avoid reprimands, but they might even earn commendations.
“Criminal Chai Jian lacks anti-tracking experience and has appeared multiple times on the streets after escaping from the psych ward. The city’s surveillance network traced his movements,” Shu Xuyao said. “Display the map.”
Yadang projected a city map, marked with small red dots and lines indicating Chai Jian’s locations and trajectory.
“He’s been active in the Northern District. An hour ago, he attempted to buy food at a convenience store but was unsuccessful because his account was frozen. Based on my calculations, Chai Jian is still within the Northern District. He cannot use public transportation or enter public venues.” Shu Xuyao zoomed in on the map. “The slums in the Northern District have sparse surveillance, making it an ideal hiding spot for fugitives. This area requires focused searching.”
“Chai Jian’s mental state is highly unstable. His superhuman ability does not possess direct lethality, but its effects are uncertain,” Shu Xuyao explained. “For this operation, we will combine long-range and close-quarters tactics. Jiang Ming, Liu Kangyun, and I will pursue him directly, while Lan Lan controls the drone swarm. Kui Xin, you will serve as the long-range sniper. Is that alright?”
Long-range sniper? That’s a massive problem—she had never even touched a gun before!
Kui Xin fell silent. Shu Xuyao interpreted her silence as rookie nervousness and encouraged her: “If the capture goes smoothly, there won’t be a need for a sniper. You’re the last safety measure, ensuring that the criminal doesn’t escape. Your shooting test score was perfect; I believe in you.”
“Are you up to it, newbie?” The man to Kui Xin’s left scrutinized her from head to toe, seemingly goading her.
Combining his appearance with the information she had reviewed, Kui Xin recognized him as Lan Lan, who served as the technician equivalent in the Seventh Squad, responsible for maintaining and operating various technological devices. She had diligently memorized the profiles of everyone present in this room.
“I’m ready, Captain.” Kui Xin steeled herself and accepted the command.
“Good, no time to waste. Go change into your gear,” said Shu Xuyao.
Everyone stood up, gradually leaving Shu Xuyao’s office, turning right towards the door marked “Equipment Room,” and scanning their irises one by one.
Kui Xin also scanned her iris before entering.
Yadang’s voice echoed from an unknown source: “For this mission, you will require bulletproof combat suits, standardized firearms, standard-issue close-quarters knives, K80 long-range sniper rifles, micro drones, data monitors, backup communicators, anti-explosion helmets, and emergency medical kits.”
“Please ensure all items are correct before leaving the equipment room.”
The equipment room was filled with the scent of ammunition and gun maintenance oil.
Rows upon rows of jet-black firearms hung neatly on racks, their various types of bullets and magazines gleaming coldly. With a quick glance, Kui Xin also noticed numerous peculiar-looking pieces of gear whose purposes were unclear.
Following her teammates, Kui Xin retrieved a bulletproof combat suit in her size and proceeded to the women’s changing area to put it on.
The black bulletproof combat suit had a simple design without any superfluous embellishments. It felt slightly snug after donning it, but the fabric was thin and elastic. Kui Xin fastened her belt, which featured numerous hidden clips seemingly intended for holding guns and magazines.
After changing, she approached the display cabinet containing firearms. Observing her teammates’ actions out of the corner of her eye, she mimicked them by picking up a standard-issue pistol based on its label and securing it at her waist. Additionally, she grabbed two magazine strips and a short blade with a sharp edge that had been treated to prevent glare.
Kui Xin moved to the rack holding blast-resistant helmets and took one, placing it on her head. This helmet wasn’t full-coverage; its primary purpose was to protect the back of the skull.
As a sniper, she required an additional piece of equipment—the K80 long-range sniper rifle.
Just looking at the display case housing the sniper rifle made Kui Xin feel overwhelmed. The gun… was massive, and even worse, it was unassembled!
Her scalp tingled with unease as she stared at the K80’s components, feeling helpless.
“What’s wrong?” Lan Lan approached and asked, “Hurry up and assemble it so we can leave. The captain mentioned you scored perfectly in shooting, but despite being teammates for so many days, I’ve never seen you assemble a gun yet. Let me witness your skills.”
Closing her eyes with determination, Kui Xin reached out to touch the firearm parts.
Barrel, receiver, muzzle brake, bipod, connecting block, scope… The components quickly assembled in her hands, and the speed was blindingly fast.
Lan Lan was astounded, his mouth agape.
As the last piece fell into place, Kui Xin’s fingertips involuntarily twitched slightly.
Fortune favored Kui Xin this time; her innate talent for Combat Instinct also encompassed firearms. After assembling a weapon thousands upon thousands of times, one could do it effortlessly with muscle memory, even with their eyes closed.
Kui Xin hoisted the K80 onto her shoulder and said to Lan Lan, “There you go; what do you think?”
“Wow, impressive!” Lan Lan grinned, playfully moving closer and grabbing the spare communicator that Kui Xin hadn’t picked up yet. He pinned it to Kui Xin’s belt, saying, “Since your hands are occupied with the gun, let me help with the communicator.”
“Thanks,” replied Kui Xin.
She couldn’t rely too heavily on combat instinct; having no theoretical knowledge in her mind was not sustainable.
The textbooks from “Security Officer Kui Xin’s” university days, covering criminal investigation techniques, were still preserved on her bedroom desk. As soon as she had some free time, she definitely needed to thoroughly review them to fill the gaps in her knowledge.
After leaving the equipment room with her teammates and entering the corridor, Yadang announced, “Please proceed according to the yellow indicator lights, Seventh Squad members. Captain Shu Xuyao has already reached the helipad.”
“Xiao Kui, you forgot to open your helmet.” Lan Lan and Kui Xin walked shoulder-to-shoulder.
“I don’t have hands free…” Carrying the K80 was somewhat challenging for Kui Xin.
Fortunately, this body’s physical attributes far exceeded those of ordinary individuals, allowing her to hold a gun weighing dozens of kilograms while briskly walking down the corridor.
Kui Xin added, “Don’t call me Xiao Kui; it sounds too cloying.”
“Huh, really? You can call me Xiao Lan too, if you like.” Smiling broadly, Lan Lan extended his hand and said, “Let me help you open your helmet.”
He tapped the side of Kui Xin’s helmet.
Instantly, green data overlays appeared before Kui Xin’s eyes, and Yadang’s voice resonated within her helmet. “Hello, intern security officer Kui Xin. I will be responsible for filtering squad communications and continuously collecting information such as wind direction, wind speed, humidity, obstacles, target distances, shooting angles, and Coriolis effect forces to provide data support for your sniping accuracy.”
… Such high-tech? Kui Xin was astounded.
The elevator doors opened and closed, swiftly taking Kui Xin’s group to the rooftop helipad.
Shu Xuyao, fully equipped, stood beside an elongated police vehicle. “Prepare for departure.”
“Yes, Captain!” the Seventh Squad responded collectively.
One by one, everyone boarded the vehicle. Kui Xin, holding her meter-long sniper rifle, claimed the last row all to herself.
The police car lifted off, hovering in the air.
At that moment, Liu Kangyun, who had been silent until now, spoke up, “Everyone, check the safeties on your guns to prevent accidental discharge.”
Jiang Mingwu, exasperated, replied, “He says this before every mission… My ears have practically developed calluses from hearing it.”
Lan Lan turned around from the front seat to explain to the puzzled Kui Xin, “His gun’s safety used to malfunction once. While seated in the car with it tucked at his waist, it accidentally discharged. Thankfully, it didn’t hit anyone but struck the police vehicle instead. We were flying at the time, causing immediate flames, and nearly crashed. It left quite a psychological scar on old Liu, ha ha…”
Upon hearing this, Kui Xin reflexively looked down to ensure the safety of her standard-issue firearm was functioning properly.
“Don’t be too tense, Kui Xin,” Shu Xuyao said from the driver’s seat. “Just grip your gun firmly, aim at the target, and stay focused. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“Understood, Captain,” Kui Xin murmured softly.
The relentless torrential rain persisted without pause, mirroring the heaviness of her mood.
Raindrops covered the police car’s windows, obstructing Kui Xin’s view. The vehicle flew for thirty minutes before gradually descending.
“Arrived at the location where the target is expected to appear,” Yadang announced. “The optimal sniping position is the signal tower at Freedom Square in the Northern District. Security Officer Kui Xin, please proceed there. Security Officer Lan Lan can accompany her to control the swarm of drones from the signal tower. The signal tower stands 230 meters high, offering relatively wide-open views above.”
“Go,” Shu Xuyao said.
Members of Seventh Squad exchanged glances as Kui Xin and Lan Lan stepped forward, leaving the group first and ascending the nearby signal tower.
Upon reaching the topmost level of the signal tower, Kui Xin took a deep breath, knelt down on one knee, set up the K80 rifle, and aligned it with the scope.
Lan Lan opened his backpack, revealing a metal box. As he lifted the lid, five fist-sized drones separated from the box and dove through the rain like predatory birds, heading towards the residential area below.
“These drones are primarily for scanning purposes. Since it’s a residential zone, we can’t use weapon-equipped ones; they increase the risk of accidental casualties. Sniper precision is still preferable here.” Holding the control panel, Lan Lan maneuvered the drone swarm. “Yadang can also control the drones, but its primary function is data aggregation and analysis. Manual operation conserves computational power, allowing Yadang’s responses to be more swift and comprehensive. Tsk, honestly, the Investigation Department should upgrade Yadang’s core already—it would save us so much trouble.”
Kui Xin did not respond; she was fully absorbed.
She peered through the high-powered scope, searching the residential area below for Chai Jian.
With painstaking precision, Kui Xin adjusted the K80 millimeter by millimeter. She spotted Captain Shu, Jiang Ming, and Liu Kangyun, confirmed their positions, and then moved the scope away while her finger lightly rested on the trigger. Her concentration was at its peak; the firearm became an extension of her body.
Unconsciously, even without realizing it, her gun barrel instinctively tracked every moving object within the scope’s view—whether they were teammates or ordinary civilians moving about in the slum.
Kui Xin’s “combat instincts” had been fully awakened. At that moment, she was like a hawk soaring in the sky, hunting for prey, or a python lurking hidden in its den. Without deliberate effort, her predatory instincts took control of her body, transforming her into a hunter.
For a brief instant—just a fleeting moment—Kui Xin felt an impulse to shoot at all the moving objects within the scope’s field of vision.
She steadied her breathing, composed herself, and cleared her mind of distractions.
“The target has appeared,” Yadang suddenly announced.
Lan Lan directed the drone swarm to track the target.
Swiftly adjusting her gun’s aim, Kui Xin searched for targets based on Yadang’s markings—and she found one!
A frantic figure appeared within her scope: a man with a loaf of bread clenched between his teeth, running barefoot down the street. His silhouette looked both pitiful and comical.
“Target distance: 986.2 meters, current wind force: 2.3 levels, angle…” The data flashed before Kui Xin’s eyes.
She locked onto Chai Jian, placing her index finger on the trigger.