Chapter 164-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World

Chapter 164 The Scam

Zhu Ning coaxed Lin Xiaofeng to sleep, promising she'd be there when the girl woke up.

She tucked the blanket around her, fitted the little red sleep cap onto her head, and watched her for a good while.

So this was what it felt like. Had Zhu Yao ever watched her sleep too?

Thinking about it, she'd probably given Zhu Yao no shortage of headaches.

The thought of Zhu Yao led her to sift through Bao Ruiming's memories, where she'd found a fragment related to the Alpha Series Experiment.

In Bao Ruiming's memories, an Eternal Pharma researcher had gone missing. There was no name or photo in his recollection. That researcher was essentially Zhu Ning's "mother."

After seeing this memory, Zhu Ning wondered—could Zhu Yao also exist in this world, just in a different form?

Was she the researcher who'd created her?

Zhu Ning gently closed Lin Xiaofeng's door and turned to find Song Zhizhang looking utterly worn out. Thanks to him for looking after Lin Xiaofeng—she'd asked him for this favor before she left.

Zhu Ning said softly, "Thank you."

Song Zhizhang: "There's chicken soup on the stove."

Zhu Ning's eyes lit up. She finally noticed the aroma that had been filling the apartment. Sure enough, a pot of chicken soup was simmering on low heat.

An old hen, slow-cooked. The broth was clear and golden, seasoned with nothing superfluous. Lifting the lid released a wave of fragrance.

Zhu Ning took a sip and felt herself come alive from the inside out. This was the meaning of life.

Zhu Ning asked, "When did you start this?"

Song Zhizhang: "When you messaged me."

Zhu Ning had been so busy—fresh off the Cloud and immediately thrown into an ambush—she hadn't been able to send word until six in the morning. This soup had been simmering from dawn until midnight.

For a moment, Zhu Ning wanted to take Song Zhizhang home with her. The man was absurdly domestic. Then she remembered—she was already in his home.

Song Zhizhang: "Xiaofeng asked me to make it. She ate half a bowl."

Zhu Ning made an "oh" sound. So she was just the freeloader.

She ladled a bowl for him. Not wanting to wake Lin Xiaofeng, they both kept their voices low, turning dinner into something oddly conspiratorial.

Song Zhizhang had no appetite. He mostly just watched Zhu Ning eat. She'd had nothing but nutrient packs since leaving the Cloud. She polished off several bowls, even finishing all the chicken.

Song Zhizhang sat across from her. "How did things go this time?"

Zhu Ning: "In what sense?"

Song Zhizhang rested his chin on his hand. "Feels like you've made some new friends."

Zhu Ning was startled. "You can tell?"

Song Zhizhang smiled. "You're wearing clothes that don't fit—completely not your style. That brand's cheapest coat runs sixty thousand new coins. You're wearing the current season's latest."

Zhu Ning: "..."

Huo Wenxi's wardrobe was absurdly expensive.

Should she wash the coat and return it?

Song Zhizhang continued: "And you ran into a guy."

Zhu Ning knew people in his line of work were perceptive, but this was another level. "How can you tell?"

Song Zhizhang: "There's blood on you—not yours. And a trace of ice. I'm guessing it's a man."

Zhu Ning coughed lightly. "Your nose is that sharp?"

Song Zhizhang: "A trivial little talent. Abilities have scents."

Zhu Ning inexplicably felt like someone caught sneaking around, unsure whether she should blurt out that she'd merely committed the mistake every woman makes.

Zhu Ning: "I only applied his medicine."

And maybe felt up the abs a little.

Song Zhizhang smiled. "As long as you're happy."

This was his profession. Zhu Ning was dazzling. Someone like her was destined to have many outstanding people around her. It only made logical sense.

Zhu Ning noticed the Human-Machine Interface Device on Song Zhizhang's temple. She remembered he'd taken it off after their last conversation.

Why was he wearing it again?

Zhu Ning asked, "Did Prometheus give you a mission today?"

Her tone was completely natural—she'd fully accepted that Song Zhizhang belonged to Prometheus.

Song Zhizhang didn't answer immediately. After a pause, he said: "No. I was afraid I'd miss the news of your death."

Zhu Ning frowned, not grasping his meaning right away.

Song Zhizhang said, "You were gone for nineteen hours."

Nineteen hours. Every minute, every second had been agonizing. The first few hours were the worst.

Song Zhizhang knew Zhu Ning had entered the Consciousness Cloud, but had no idea whether she was alive or dead.

He'd barely survived the night. At dawn the next day, he finally received Zhu Ning's message—a single line on his Sub-Brain saying she was safe. Then nothing.

Song Zhizhang couldn't even be sure the message had been sent by Zhu Ning herself.

His social circle didn't overlap with Zhu Ning's. In her official records, no one knew she lived at the Dignified Queen Club.

If Zhu Ning had died, the Sanitation Center would hold an official funeral. No one would have thought to notify him or Lin Xiaofeng.

He and Lin Xiaofeng weren't family in any official sense. They had no right to receive the death notice.

He'd put on the Human-Machine Interface Device because, if Zhu Ning died, Prometheus would receive the information and relay it to him first.

Zhu Ning realized she'd been inconsiderate. "I'm sorry. I promise—next time, you'll be the very first to know."

Song Zhizhang nodded. "Okay."

He could be her first point of contact for a death notification.

Zhu Ning added, "I really won't get into trouble."

She'd promised him before she left, and she'd kept her word.

Song Zhizhang caught the hint of smugness in her voice and smiled. "Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything."

Zhu Ning sensed nothing was wrong—he had a good temperament, generous and attentive.

She looked at Song Zhizhang again. Something felt slightly off, but he showed nothing on the surface.

So Zhu Ning simply said, "Good night, Song Zhizhang."

"Good night..." Song Zhizhang's lips parted. He'd almost instinctively said "sweetheart," but swallowed the word just in time.

When he'd first met Zhu Ning, he could casually joke and call her that. Now, the word refused to come out naturally.

After their exchange of good-nights, Song Zhizhang gently closed Zhu Ning's door. The corridor was empty tonight—only a holographic strip-dancing avatar going through its routine in the distance.

Song Zhizhang stood alone in the hallway. Only now did he let his guard down. He leaned against the wall, one hand trembling uncontrollably. He had to press his wrist down with the other to stop it.

That fear still had an aftertaste. After what had happened before, he truly didn't have it in him to receive anyone else's death notice.

...

After Song Zhizhang left, Zhu Ning sat alone in the dining room for a while.

Lin Xiaofeng was asleep. Song Zhizhang was gone. Finally, she had space to think.

She'd been too busy until now to check her System Interface. This mission had awarded 10,000 Purity Points, bringing her cumulative total to 15,000. Her health sat at 36.

Health was still far too low. And once again she'd had no Contamination Spores to collect.

She was tempted to ask Huo Wenxi for a mission—anything that would let her harvest Contamination Spores.

The mission "Illusory Floating Sand Island" was complete. She'd been rewarded with a passive combat talent—described as automatically entering passive mode when the brain was deemed unfit for combat.

Zhu Ning had experienced it firsthand. The mode could save her life, but she didn't care for it. She preferred keeping her conscious mind firmly in control of her body rather than handing the reins to a program.

She also received two System items: Ability Dampeners.

[Reward Description: This item can impair the opponent's ability effectiveness. Reduction ratio is calculated based on actual consumption.]

An interesting tool—ideal for combat. The question was how much health it would cost in practice.

System rewards seemed to be getting stingier—less generous than at the start. As if an upgrade ceiling existed, with memory nearly full. If the System were a game, Zhu Ning felt like she'd hit a wall with no walkthrough available.

The Main Quest and Side Quest progress bars for "Discover the Truth Behind the Death" remained unchanged.

Her Mutation Path and Degree of Mutation still showed nothing. Once again she hadn't mutated. She'd been trying every method to activate this section of her Interface.

But ever since learning about the "reboot," Zhu Ning had reconsidered this direction.

For convenience, she still referred to the previous version of herself as the "Original." What had been the true reason for the reboot? A misallocated talent build?

The "Original" must have had higher health, a more developed System, and stronger abilities.

Choosing the reboot path meant that, in the calculations of both the "Original" and Prometheus, this route yielded the greater return.

Zhu Ning suspected she needed to unlock this section of her Interface.

But thinking about the reboot led nowhere. Prometheus hadn't contacted her again. She'd noticed Song Zhizhang's Human-Machine Interface Device earlier and had hoped for some clue.

She didn't know whether Xu Meng's side had found a Human-Machine Interface Device yet.

Zhu Ning carefully reviewed the memories she'd copied from Bao Ruiming's mind. Under time pressure, she'd only skimmed through them.

Now, with a majority of his memory fragments stored in her own brain, a thorough review might yield new leads.

But all she wanted right now was sleep. She'd deal with it tomorrow.

Before bed, Zhu Ning opened her Sub-Brain. She'd sent Liu Niannian many messages, all still unread.

Zhu Ning suddenly regretted not getting Pei Shu's contact info—she could have asked him for more information.

Was Liu Niannian okay?

...

The Lu Family.

It had been ten hours since Creation Technology was breached.

Creation Technology had narrowly averted a credibility crisis. The incident was quickly suppressed; no clients noticed.

Liu Niannian submitted a full report detailing the cause of the incident. She signed it with her real name. The report went to Lu Yao, with read access also extended to their father.

But their father was aging. All major and minor affairs at Creation Technology were steered by Lu Yao. The matter never reached the family patriarch.

Liu Niannian had originally expected their father's involvement to make the situation more chaotic. Instead, she was entirely at Lu Yao's mercy.

Lu Yao had absolute authority to deal with her.

Lu Yao had read the report. On the surface, it was airtight. A spoiled rich heiress with an interest in everything, who liked venturing into contamination zones, constantly creating messes for the family to clean up.

When someone had a long enough track record of reckless stunts, one more extreme act blended right in.

This time, Liu Niannian's playground had simply shifted to a VIP Guest's Consciousness Cloud.

It looked manageable on paper, but Lu Yao knew where the real problem lay.

It was Liu Niannian's new friend. In both her report and her verbal account, she'd deliberately downplayed that aspect, taking all blame upon herself.

Now Liu Niannian stood before him. Behind her stood Sun Jie and others—every person who knew the truth was present.

Liu Niannian awaited her punishment from Lu Yao.

Lu Yao: "You did very well this time."

Liu Niannian was stunned. She thought she'd misheard. She looked up at Lu Yao.

Lu Yao continued: "You successfully prevented a crisis for the family."

Sun Jie, standing behind her, exhaled in relief. A weight lifted from his chest. As head of security, this incident fell under his responsibility. Demotion would have been lenient; if he'd caused real damage, he wouldn't leave Creation Technology alive.

Now Lu Yao was framing it as a good thing. He might not just avoid demotion—he might even get promoted.

Helping Liu Niannian had actually been the right call.

Liu Niannian, on the other hand, frowned. She sensed this wouldn't end so easily.

Sun Jie jumped in: "I'll draft a proposal to upgrade the security system."

Creation Technology needed an overhaul. The breach was bizarre. Lu Yao's first response had been to destroy all evidence—they hadn't even analyzed the vulnerability.

The security upgrade would be tricky. Sun Jie had only taken the position this year and hadn't expected to face something like this.

Now was his chance to prove himself.

Lu Yao: "That won't be necessary."

Sun Jie blinked. "Why not?"

A breach this severe—shouldn't the first response be to reinforce defenses for the clients' sake?

Lu Yao said nothing. He simply smiled.

Liu Niannian caught the smile at the corner of Lu Yao's lips—the look of someone holding all the cards. A horrifying realization struck her: he knew.

Lu Yao had known all along.

No wonder he hadn't been furious. No wonder he hadn't rushed to the server room—he'd merely paused a meeting.

No wonder his response had been so decisive—ordering the direct termination of Bao Ruiming's brain without any interest in preserving samples for research.

No wonder he'd been willing to hand the situation off to Liu Niannian. No wonder he'd given her those five minutes.

What Lu Yao had needed to handle wasn't the Contaminant upload—it was handling her.

Liu Niannian had inadvertently blown the lid off the whole thing.

Contaminants could parasitize the Consciousness Cloud. Lu Yao had known all along and done nothing.

Creation Technology's Consciousness Cloud didn't just house the wealthy. Countless ordinary people had toiled their entire lives, pouring every last coin into purchasing the service.

With contamination worsening by the day, many had lost hope in reality and treated the Consciousness Cloud as their Eden. They'd bet everything they had on the Lu Family's product—only to end up sharing space with Contaminants.

How many Contaminants were squatting in the Consciousness Cloud? Liu Niannian didn't even dare imagine.

The Consciousness Cloud was a massive scam.

They'd deceived the poor. They'd even deceived the rich.

The Lu Family's entire empire was built upon a fairy tale—a beautiful, seemingly flawless founding vision pitched at inception.

Nothing but a castle in the air. A bubble.

The problem was that even now, knowing it was a bubble, Liu Niannian couldn't pop it. Not just because it would cause panic, or potentially kill tens of thousands.

But because everything she enjoyed—every coin she spent, every whim she indulged—was bankrolled by this scam.

Liu Niannian was trembling. Her mind buzzed. Looking at Lu Yao, she suddenly found the whole thing laughable.

The Lu Family's founder had been among the first generation of First-Class Citizens. Creation Technology's vision had been conceived in those early days.

To save all of humanity, they would build a pure sanctuary.

Maybe the founders had genuinely believed it at first. Then the second generation took over, then the third. They discovered the path was a dead end—Contaminants could upload into the Consciousness Cloud.

But by then it was too late. The Lu Family had become a colossus. There was no turning back. So they pressed on with their grand enterprise, continuing to sell the story.

The Lu Family were truly insane. Their empire was built on the blood and bone of countless people.

Were they... now doing business with the Contaminants?

How was that any different from striking a deal with a tiger?

The Lu Family had only one path left. Creation Technology had created a myth, and now they would stop at nothing to fulfill it.

Writing myths came at a cost.

Lu Yao offered no answer. Sun Jie had also connected the dots. He suddenly realized how precarious his position was—he didn't even dare speak.

He knew Creation Technology's secret.

The number of people who'd ever known this secret had been kept under ten—all Lu Family senior leadership.

Now the headcount had clearly exceeded the limit. Only by keeping the number small enough could the secret be guaranteed not to leak.

All this time, the Contaminants residing in the Consciousness Cloud had maintained a kind of equilibrium. No one had broken it—until now.

The security chief role was a sinecure; under normal circumstances, nothing would ever happen. Sun Jie had simply had the misfortune of being in the seat when it did.

Sun Jie didn't share the Lu surname. He didn't expect any special treatment. Liu Niannian might escape punishment; that didn't mean he would.

He was a Third-Class Citizen Replicant who'd climbed his way up through relentless promotion from a branch office.

He was going to die.

Sun Jie shifted his feet. He took one step backward. He hadn't spoken, hadn't made any dramatic movement—yet it was like a small animal in the jungle catching the attention of a predator.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Crack—someone wrenched his arm out of its socket and kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground.

The Lu Family's dogs had made their move.

Sun Jie screamed: "Director Lu! Director Lu, let's talk this out—I'm loyal! I'll work myself to death for you!"

Lu Yao: "I'm sorry. You didn't pass the test."

Sun Jie's decisions had been disastrous. His crisis management was a complete failure.

To Lu Yao, Sun Jie was merely a useful tool—one with countless replacements available.

On Lu Yao's desk sat a gun. Old—almost antique.

A relic from before the global contamination. A Beretta. Its silver grip was engraved with intricate patterns.

The gun's symbolic value far exceeded its practical one. It had belonged to the first Lu Family patriarch, passed down to every successive head of the family.

It was also stained with the blood of countless people.

Lu Yao looked at Liu Niannian. "Can I trust you?"

He'd asked this question before—and that time, he'd placed the handling of Bao Ruiming in Liu Niannian's hands.

"Niannian." Lu Yao used her pet name. "Can you do it?"

Liu Niannian clenched her fists. She understood what Lu Yao needed. He wanted her to kill Sun Jie with her own hands.

This was her punishment.

She could have interceded for Sun Jie—said it was all her fault, that Sun Jie had only been helping her, that she should bear the punishment alone.

But Liu Niannian knew it would be meaningless. Sun Jie was already as good as dead.

She stared at Lu Yao for a long, long time. It felt like a century.

Liu Niannian would inevitably pay the price for her recklessness.

She picked up the ancient Beretta—as if taking up the butcher's blade passed down through generations of her forebears.

Her heart hammered so fast it felt like it would burst from her chest. She raised her wrist. The barrel pointed at Sun Jie.

Sun Jie's eyes went wide with terror. He struggled, but two men pinned him down. He was a pitiable creature caught in a trap.

"You can't—" Sun Jie screamed. "Director Lu! Director Lu! Give me one chance—I'll never breathe a word!"

Sun Jie was an ordinary man who had clawed his way to the top. He'd thought he'd reached the Divine Kingdom.

Working for the rich was still a cut above. At least he was higher than most.

He'd never imagined that being a Free Citizen in the Divine Kingdom was a death sentence.

Sun Jie screamed himself hoarse. Begging Lu Yao was pointless. The only one who could help was Lu Yuan.

"Young Miss—I-I-I was helping you."

"Young Miss," Sun Jie's voice shook, "think about it—without me, your friend would already be dead. I—"

Bang—!

Liu Niannian pulled the trigger. Sun Jie's next words died in his throat. A hole appeared in his head—Liu Niannian had struck his temple. The bullet pierced clean through the forehead. There was no suffering.

Sun Jie's eyes stayed frozen wide. He could never finish that sentence. He crumpled to the floor with a heavy thud.

Liu Niannian gasped for breath, seemingly in disbelief. She had killed a person.

This was the first person she had ever killed with her own hands.

It was also the first time she'd seen reality clearly. Before, it had all been a dream swathed in pink bubbles. Now the dream was shattered.

Reality was drenched in blood.

Lu Yao clasped Liu Niannian's trembling hand from behind. "You did well."

Liu Niannian's face was spattered with blood. The sticky liquid smeared across her nose and mouth, making it impossible to breathe.

She wanted to throw up.

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