novelraw Chapter 37: Sea of Darkness - (37)
Chapter 37: Sea of Darkness - (37)
“How is that possible? I clearly received a call from the police station just now.” Kui Xin persisted, talking nonsense to stall for time.
“You must have misunderstood,” the female operator said. “If you’ve been following the news, you should have seen our police department’s arrest warrant announcement. Fang Zhi, age twenty-six, physically robust, approximately 180 cm tall, residing in Jinshui City, is suspected of intentional homicide. He escaped to Tonglin City today. While reviewing city surveillance footage, we found someone closely matching Fang Zhi’s description. The cameras show that you were the last person he interacted with, Ms. Kui Xin. We need you to provide any relevant clues.”
Kui Xin insisted, “I received a call! The previous call wasn’t from the police station, so who did it come from? The displayed number was the area code followed by the emergency hotline.”
While speaking, Kui Xin discreetly activated her phone’s recording feature, returned to the caller ID page, took a screenshot of the recent call history, and shared it on her social media with visibility set to only herself.
Next, she placed her smartphone in speaker mode, found an unused old-style flip phone on the bedside table, turned it on, and began charging it.
The school prohibited smartphones; if students brought any device, it had to be a simple, elderly-friendly model. During high school, Kui Xin used a flip phone, which cost just over a hundred yuan. It was durable, resistant to drops, and featured basic functionalities, including low-resolution photography and audio recording capabilities.
The flip phone didn’t have a SIM card, lacked signal, and couldn’t connect to the internet—perfect for Kui Xin, as she only needed its camera and recording functions.
She picked up the flip phone, snapped a photo of the smartphone’s caller ID screen, then opened the flip phone’s recording function and placed it nearby to capture the conversation.
Two sets of preparations.
For the caller ID image display, Kui Xin needed two copies—one screenshot and one photograph. Similarly, she had two recordings of the phone conversation, with one on her smartphone and another on an old, non-internet-capable flip phone.Kui Xin earnestly stated, “The previous call was extremely unusual… I swear I received a call from the police station. Our school’s anti-fraud campaign mentioned that some scammers can manipulate the displayed caller ID number using technological means. I’m afraid it might be a scammer; if you are indeed a police officer, please provide your badge number.”
This was a reasonable request. Generally, if citizens make such a request, police officers will disclose their badge numbers, as this information is publicly available.
The female operator paused momentarily before providing a string of digits.
Kui Xin asked, “The person named Fang Zhi you mentioned earlier, is he the individual I encountered today at Hundred Flowers Avenue? Is he a murderer?”
“We cannot confirm it entirely, but his physical characteristics closely match. We need relevant clues to assist in our investigation…” the female operator replied.
A detail. Kui Xin noticed a discrepancy.
During the first call, when Kui Xin questioned whether the murderer was the same person she met, the male operator gave a definitive affirmation without hesitation.
However, the reality was that Fang Zhi wore a sun hat, completely concealing his face. Without capturing his frontal features, there should have been uncertainty about his identity. Yet the male operator sounded utterly convinced it was Fang Zhi. This was not normal and lacked rigor.
The female operator during the second call seemed more professional. When Kui Xin asked the same question, she provided an uncertain response and even shared her operator ID number.
“I saw the news today and also suspected that the person I followed might be Fang Zhi, but upon thinking about it, it seemed too coincidental—how could a murderer possibly go to crowded places… If only I had continued following him.” Kui Xin deliberately dragged out her conversation, guiding the female operator to speak further.
Perhaps feeling that Kui Xin’s rambling was excessive, the female operator got straight to the point, “We need you to provide the direction the suspect took when he left. Which way did he last head towards?”
Kui Xin realized it would be difficult to extract more information from her tone of voice.
“Ah, I never expected to encounter a murderer just by casually walking around… Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll personally visit the police station to provide my insights,” Kui Xin said. “I understand this is significant, and I won’t feel at ease unless I go myself.”
The female operator subtly paused for a moment before politely saying, “Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.”
Then, the call was disconnected.
Kui Xin immediately opened her social media app to check out the post she had shared.
“This…” Kui Xin was astonished to see that her social media indicated a failed send; the posted image appeared inaccessible, and the related screenshot could not be found in her photo album either. The photo recycling bin was completely empty. When she returned to the call display page, both police station phone numbers had vanished!
She switched to the recording files section to inspect it and clicked on the button to play back the conversation, but inexplicably, the recorded audio had transformed into a jumble of static interference sounds.
Her phone had been compromised!
Kui Xin realized the gravity of the situation.
Nervously, she grabbed her basic feature phone to check, relieved to find that all the photos and recordings were intact.
With no internet connectivity or signal, hackers couldn’t find an entry point; her basic feature phone was essentially offline, making it immune to infiltration.
Kui Xin wasn’t worried about the compromised smartphone’s camera secretly filming her under the hacker’s control because it was a second-hand device with a malfunctioning camera. Thanks to the broken camera, she was able to purchase this relatively newer model at a significantly reduced price.
At the time, Kui Xin thought that since she rarely took photos, having a working camera was unnecessary. To her, a phone was merely a convenient means of communication. She didn’t anticipate that her frugality would inadvertently help her avoid a minor risk.
The remaining question was: when did the hacker infiltrate her phone? Was it just recently, or much earlier?
To find Fang Zhi and herself, the hacker had to sift through vast amounts of surveillance footage, which required time for identification and confirmation. When Kui Xin killed Fang Zhi, her phone likely had not yet been compromised, meaning her identity remained concealed. Additionally, while tracking Fang Zhi, Kui Xin switched her phone to airplane mode to prevent any audible alerts, ensuring no internet connection or signal.
Precisely because her identity was unexposed, the hacker felt compelled to impersonate a police officer to gather information. If her identity had been confirmed, the hacker would not have bothered calling to test the waters.
“Thank you, unknown hacker,” Kui Xin silently acknowledged to herself.
His appearance heightened Kui Xin’s vigilance across all fronts.
The enemy could attack from the physical and digital worlds. Her defenses must be comprehensive with no blind spots; one slip-up could allow someone to exploit vulnerabilities.
However, it seemed unlikely that the game forum would be compromised. After browsing the forum, Kui Xin checked her phone’s history and found that her visitation record was entirely blank.
After logging into the game forum and viewing posts, there was no trace on her phone.
Despite this reassurance, numerous questions still confronted Kui Xin. She purchased knives online from Taobao and searched for information about restricted weapons such as triangular spikes.
These actions could appear highly suspicious to someone with malicious intent.
She was exposed, but not completely so.
The situation was grave.
While the adversary couldn’t definitively determine who killed Fang Zhi, they could suspect that Kui Xin might be a player.
Honestly… Kui Xin felt she was struggling to suppress her killing intent.
Biting her finger, she stared at her phone for a long time before ultimately deciding to report the incident to the police.
Yes, report it to the police.
Calling the police is a normal reaction for an ordinary person encountering such circumstances. She needed to disguise herself as just another ordinary individual.
Being a player and an ordinary person aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, most players on the game forum lead ordinary lives; they think and live like typical people, with the exception being their involvement in a survival game.
If she could start over, Kui Xin would handle things more cautiously and complete her tasks even more effectively, thanks to the informational advantage she now possessed.
As she dove deeper into the game, Kui Xin increasingly realized how crucial intelligence was. Information played a vital role in ensuring her survival in both the First and Second Worlds.
She grabbed her phone, put on her shoes, and rushed out towards the police station two streets away.
After reporting the incident and selectively briefing the police, it was already afternoon.
During the statement recording, the young officer murmured, “This is indeed quite strange; there are signs of hacking intrusion. I advise you to switch your phone.”
“As a student, switching phones is really difficult,” Kui Xin lamented silently.
“Still, my advice stands. Your current phone is highly insecure and prone to exposing sensitive information. What if your social media and payment passwords get compromised?” the officer said. “We couldn’t find any matching employee ID numbers in the recording. The person who contacted you wasn’t a police officer… Additionally, typically, we don’t directly use emergency hotline numbers for case-related calls.”
“Really?” Kui Xin asked.
“Those who haven’t experienced it might not fully understand. It actually depends on the situation. The dedicated number for police emergency services is 110, or sometimes the area code is followed by 110. However, the most common scenario involves officers using their office landlines or ordinary mobile phone numbers to call,” the young policeman explained. “Be cautious next time; don’t fall for scams. If you genuinely encounter a wanted murderer, we would typically conduct in-person visits or directly ask witnesses to come to the police station. Of course, if the witness or informant requests confidentiality of their information, we can record the conversation over the phone, conduct telephone inquiries, and document clues.”
Kui Xin suddenly realized, “So that’s how it works… Thank you very much.”
“Go home now; the rain is really heavy. Stay safe on your way,” the young policeman said. “Your awareness against fraud is commendable; keep it up.”
“I doubt scammers could trick me. I’m penniless; there’s no money for them to swindle,” Kui Xin murmured softly.
She then asked, “If the person I was following earlier truly was a murderer, does that mean I’ve provided significant leads? Can I claim a reward?”
“If the case gets solved, there will be a reward. Otherwise, generally, there isn’t one,” the young policeman replied.
As Kui Xin was leaving, she expressed her sincere wishes: “I hope the case is solved soon.”
Outside, torrential rain fell like a deluge, and Kui Xin opened her umbrella before stepping into the rain curtain.
The accumulated water on the ground nearly reached ankle-deep; such heavy rainfall seemed rare in Tonglin City according to her memories.
Kui Xin struggled through the storm, wading home amidst the downpour.
Just as she entered the building’s hallway and closed her umbrella, her phone vibrated with an incoming message.
“Online? The world is too dangerous—would you like to team up?”
Three seconds later, another message arrived:
“It’s me—the person who called you earlier. I have no malicious intent.”