Volume One: Entering the City for the First Time Chapter 24: The Death of a High School Student

“Yang Miao, your phone call.” A woman outside gently knocked on the door and called out.

Yang Miao, a high school student, was crouched in the corner of his room. Upon closer inspection, it was clear the space had been carefully arranged by him. The corners of the desk were wrapped in soft sponge, frequently used stationery was organized within a pen holder, which itself was glued firmly to the desktop. All the electrical wires for devices in the room were insulated and fixed securely against the wall, as if lessons had been drawn from Deng Zhi’s fatal electrocution. Sharp implements like scissors were locked away in a drawer; nowhere in the room could one see anything pointed or dangerous.

Yang Miao reached out and took the phone from his mother. “Hello?”

“It’s me, Yang Miao.” A male voice came through the receiver.

“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?” Yang Miao recognized the voice—it belonged to the person he had met yesterday in the mandatory script, someone who seemed to be a close friend based on their conversation.

“Heh, I’ve got a training class here. Want to come?” The voice was sly, almost tempting.

“Training class? Not interested.” Yang Miao refused outright. Was he kidding? He’d much rather stay safe in his bedroom, not stepping out for anything.

“Hey, hey, hey, a regular training class wouldn’t warrant a call from me. Cui Qi is there too. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.” The boy on the other end anticipated that Yang Miao would change his mind at the mention of Cui Qi, the girl Yang Miao secretly liked.

“Not interested.” Unfortunately, Yang Miao now was not the Yang Miao his friend remembered. Without even considering it, he refused again.

But as soon as the call ended, Yang Miao received a prompt from the City. The City notified him that his actions did not conform to the character’s current cognition and emotions, deducting 100 reward points and issuing a severe warning: “If you repeatedly act in this unscripted and passive manner, the City will impose a special punishment.”

The words “special punishment” were highlighted on the light screen, and Yang Miao couldn’t help but recall the penalties described by Mad Blade.

Not long after the phone hung up, another call came. “Yang Miao, let’s go cycling in the park together.”

Yang Miao meant to refuse, but the City’s warning lingered in his mind. After a brief hesitation, he finally nodded and agreed.

Meanwhile, Fang Hao arrived at an abandoned factory. He surveyed his surroundings, quickly focusing his gaze behind a half-collapsed rack. “Come out.”

Yet the factory remained silent. Fang Hao sneered and began listing the clues he’d discovered.

As Fang Hao finished speaking, applause sounded from behind the shelving. “Impressive. I deliberately parked my car far away and meticulously cleared my tracks, thinking you would assume we hadn’t arrived and wait outside. I didn’t expect you to see through it. You truly are a renowned detective.”

Fang Hao watched as a middle-aged man walked over. “What’s your relationship with the client for this job?”

Indeed, Fang Hao’s role in this trial was that of a detective. The surveillance cameras left at the food street had been installed by him, and he had made extensive preparations on the night he entered the mission—those cameras were part of his toolkit. Now, his appearance at this dilapidated factory was due to someone’s request. Unlike yesterday, this commission wasn’t part of the mandatory script, but Fang Hao chose to come anyway. At the same time, many newcomers were receiving invitations in various forms.

“What are you saying, Detective Fang? I am the client.” The man’s face showed a fleeting surprise before he smiled as if nothing had happened.

Fang Hao stepped closer, pointing to several spots on the man’s clothing. “That outfit must feel uncomfortable, right? I doubt you usually dress like this. Based on your behavior, I’ve inferred your social status—someone of your level wouldn’t be worrying about such matters. So why not let your real boss come forward?”

“Impressive, indeed.” Another man’s voice echoed in the empty factory, though no one could be seen. Fang Hao frowned, then kicked a piece of debris against a battered wooden board, exposing a speaker hidden beneath.

Fang Hao quickly found cameras and other devices on the man.

“No wonder you were the one who uncovered the truth behind the scenes and brought down Xie Zhenpeng. Forgive me for not appearing in person right now. But if you accept this commission, I’ll pay you an extra fee once it’s completed.” The disembodied voice continued to reverberate through the factory.

Fang Hao squinted, his thoughts inscrutable. Soon, he smiled, holding the camera up. “Agreed.”

A seemingly ordinary car opened its door. A uniformed man said to Xie Ruidar, “Alright, you can go now.”

After Xie Ruidar got out, the car quickly drove away. He stretched his arms and turned his head to see the television inside a shop.

“Could it be today’s target fish?” On the screen, a middle-aged man held a fishing rod, which was bent by the pull of a fish. Xie Ruidar stared, suddenly lost in thought, as if he glimpsed something profound in that moment.

“Ha!” A high school student cried out, arms wide, letting his bicycle race down the arch of a bridge, followed by several others. Yang Miao trailed behind, cautiously gripping the brakes.

“Yang Miao, what’s with you today? You’re not usually like this,” a classmate slowed down and looked back at him.

“Honestly, it’s nothing. I just remembered the accident a few days ago and thought I should cherish life more, be more careful,” Yang Miao replied.

“You’re overthinking. Accidents aren’t that easy to come by. You’re our group’s luckiest guy! Many were unlucky in that accident, but you came out fine—doesn’t that prove it?” His classmate comforted him.

Seeing Yang Miao still timid, a companion gave him a hard slap on the back. “What are you scared of? You could choke on water, or die eating dinner. Even if you do nothing, there’s always a chance you could drop dead suddenly. What good does worrying do?”

Yang Miao thought they had a point. If he kept making himself anxious, he’d never have the stamina to finish the task. Besides, what were the odds it would happen to him?

Noticing Yang Miao was much more relaxed, his companions cheered. “Alright, let’s go! Let’s charge across the five-arch bridge in one go!” The group responded together and set off again.

They rode forward, passing grassy lawns where people gathered in small groups, enjoying the rare coolness of summer. Children ran and played, and kites floated in the distant sky.

“Is it here?” Emperor Ao asked Xia Rong.

“Yes. Yang Miao’s mother said he came here to ride bikes with his friends.”

Emperor Ao looked at the route map by the entrance and sighed deeply. Searching for someone in such a vast park? “Can you get through to Yang Miao’s phone?”

“Still no answer,” a newcomer replied.

“Haha!” A little boy chased bubbles, darting out from the roadside.

Yang Miao saw this and quickly turned, squeezing the brakes. His bicycle bounced violently as it hit the sidewalk, just as the boy’s family rushed out and scooped him up, thanking Yang Miao.

The small incident didn’t draw much attention. Yang Miao soon set off again, unaware that the brake pads on his bicycle had quietly fallen off during the jolt.

Clouds drifted slowly across the sky. A gust of wind carried an ownerless kite into the park.

Emperor Ao was still searching for Yang Miao when suddenly, the park staff seemed to receive a message. Their patrol vehicle spun around and sped toward a spot.

Emperor Ao and his party sensed trouble and hurried after it. When they arrived, they saw a bicycle toppled on the road, and Yang Miao lying on the ground, a long gash across his throat. Beside him was the accident’s culprit—the ownerless kite retrieved by park staff, its string now stained red with Yang Miao’s blood.