Love, death, and false man

Chapter 6. 6
9/12—7:19
It was raining heavily, and all the breakfast stalls in front of the No. 6 Middle School were nowhere to be seen.

It's too late to go get a bowl of noodles now. There's only one breakfast shop with a storefront that specializes in steamed buns and soy milk, but Fang Yan won't go there.

Fang Yan was quite unhappy because once when he was in front of the line, the person behind him was given priority.

I'll just grab a drink and some bread from the convenience store and make do.

After entering the convenience store, I browsed the shelves for items, but I had a bit of decision-making difficulties. Even though I'm an expert at timing things perfectly, I can't waste too much time. It takes at least three minutes to get from the school gate to the classroom on the third floor of the teaching building, but that requires running. If I want to take it easy, I need to keep it under eight minutes.

You don't look well.

A male high school student wearing the uniform of No. 6 Middle School, who was also buying bread, said calmly.

Fang Yan ignored him and didn't reply. He disliked overly familiar people, especially men.

I consider myself to be of the "I" type, not particularly fond of socializing. After reading his instantaneous thought process, I realized it wasn't out of goodwill, but rather an attitude of forming cliques.

The rain, drifting at an angle, meandered like earthworms in the glass window of the convenience store. The noisy, cold wind blew from the door to the shelves, and the temporarily closed umbrellas dripped water.

"I just noticed you seemed really stressed. The teachers at No. 6 Middle School are all awful, and the academic pressure is immense. I've been under a lot of pressure lately too, but I use a catheter to release negative emotions. I usually use my left hand because it feels like someone else's hand. It's my secret, so don't tell anyone."

Wang Ying's tone was extremely serious, as if he were talking about some kind of secret spy information.

Fang Yan then turned his head to examine him closely. He was a student from No. 6 Middle School, nothing unusual about him. He looked quite mature and was probably a senior in high school.

“We’re dealing with physics formulas, geometric figures, numbers, and periodic tables every day. You should understand that nobody can stand it. I just had my turn in this convenience store restroom, and there’s my masterpiece on the doorknob.”

Wang Ying looked gloomy and spoke in a very cold tone. He took out a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes from his school uniform pocket, shook out a cigarette, lit it with a plastic lighter, and started smoking as if no one else was around.

"I do not understand……"

Fang Yan was indeed somewhat shocked; judging from the instantaneous thought language he had read, this matter was true.

"My girlfriend slept with someone else. She was a year ahead of me before, and now she's a freshman in college. She didn't go to another city; she stayed in the city. It was just one night. She met a rich guy at a bar. He had a Lamborghini. You know?"

Wang Ying took a deep drag on his cigarette and said calmly.

"I don't understand... What does this have to do with me?"

Fang Yan was already leaning back tactically, reading the immediate thought process, because this guy hadn't even reached base yet, only kissing.

"Is it possible that we've been set up, that we're studying so hard just to become better dogs for them, so that they can rape our girlfriends, wives, sisters, or even daughters?"

Wang Ying's eyes were slightly bloodshot. She calmly took a puff of her Hongtashan cigarette and asked Fang Yan a meaningful question.

Fang Yan didn't understand who they were referring to, but suddenly his thoughts became unreadable. The garbled text lasted for several seconds before returning to normal.

But Fang Yan felt that this was actually the secret to his need to release the pressure of studying.

"Senior, is it possible that it's because..."

Fang Yan glanced at the convenience store clerk, then warily surveyed the entrance, making sure there were no recording devices nearby, as Wang Ying's Joule intensity had just reached the warning threshold set by the Soul Absorber. He whispered, "I don't know what you're referring to, but there is indeed a scheme. Some satellite base stations emit radio waves that interfere with the brain, implanting or deleting memories. These organizations also send people to monitor people, making them act abnormally. You need to be careful. I can't explain any more."

That's all Fang Yan could say. The Salvation Army's first rule is that you can't talk about the Salvation Army.

"Is it some kind of lame joke?"

Wang Ying was somewhat stunned.

Fang Yan didn't hear it. He looked at his flip phone and saw that it was already 7:26.

"Hold."

Fang Yan randomly picked out a drink and some bread, paid the bill, and ran towards the classroom.

Wang Ying remained silent for a long time. This person's tone was not joking; it was somewhat respectful. Perhaps he was mentally ill, and indeed, he was someone who needed a unique secret.

9/12—7:35
Everything is grid-like, from urban planning to the classroom of Class 2, Grade 11 at Binhai No. 6 Middle School, there is a kind of magical matrix.

Fang Yan arrived smoothly at his aluminum-tripod combat chair, stuffed his backpack containing his gear into the drawer, and decided it was best to keep a low profile for the time being.

Once you can actively switch to the [Hunter Channel], you can patrol the area around the school, your home, and your main activity area to eliminate any potential threats from fake humans.

The atmosphere during early morning self-study was extremely oppressive, even quieter than a hearse that had missed its exit on the highway. Some students were quietly reciting English, as if they were performing a ritual for the dead.

Fang Yan, who was sitting by the window, felt okay, at least he was in the emergency exit escape hatch position.

Fang Yan believes that it's difficult to identify fake people simply by reading their instantaneous thoughts; logical reasoning is still necessary. To determine who in the classroom is the most resilient under pressure, one only needs to observe the rain stains on their school uniforms.

In some families, one parent will even quit their job to rent a house near the school specifically for the college entrance examination, so that the student can cook for them.

These people are under a lot of pressure, live close to the school, don't need to get on or off the bus, and hardly experience any rain.

Students who live further away experience less pressure and have more time to release their emotions when they are alone. They get on and off buses frequently, their shoulders are wet with rain, and their trouser legs are very wet.

The most restless people in the classroom were a few guys who were soaked to the bone. They probably hadn't used an umbrella before. They were chatting and laughing, completely out of place with the environment. After all, Class Two was an advanced class.

Fang Yan found someone who hadn't been exposed to any rain stains at all. He didn't know if he had arrived very early, or if the rain stains had dried, but his clothes were spotless, even his trouser legs were completely dry, and his shoes weren't wet. He sat in the front row, wearing high-prescription glasses, and Fang Yan couldn't read his thoughts at all. It was truly astonishing.

Be careful of this person; there's a possibility he's being targeted by the Lord of Souls.

"Hey, you weren't here during evening self-study yesterday. There was a test. The teacher said he couldn't contact your parents either, so he asked me to give you this test paper and have you finish it before the end of morning self-study and hand it in to his office."

Weng Qing was a little afraid of the male classmate sitting next to her. Not only yesterday, but just now he had also been scanning the whole class with that look in his eyes, combined with his scarred face, which was indescribably creepy. He was also talking about a fake person, but he himself was the fake person.

Reading what Weng Qing was thinking.

Fang Yan suddenly felt a little insecure. Given his popularity with women, could he really experience sex before he died?

"Thank you."

Fang Yan took the roll of toilet paper, then suddenly felt something was wrong. Wait a minute...

I can read the real-time thoughts of everyone in the classroom. During exams, as long as I find a top student and follow their lead, getting high scores is no problem at all, whether it's midterms, finals, or even the college entrance exam.

The Salvation Army granted them the same level of authority as a low-level administrator in human society—low-level, but still administrator-level.

However, this method is still inefficient, making it difficult to find a sufficiently formidable target in a short period of time.

wrong……

Troubleshooting: The aircraft's retina UI has a troubleshooting function that can answer any question within the user's rank and permissions.

What if the questions are on a test paper?
Fang Yan tried typing it in, and sure enough, it was a message from a Star Destroyer, using the Salvation Army server to do the most idiotic thing.

wrong……

hold on!
The current level of academic research in the world is limited to 2030, while the information stored on the Salvation Army's servers comes from the future.

Still not right...

I'm a private, a soldier, not a scientist. If I attract too much attention, I'll easily be targeted by spies. Although it's still early, the college entrance exam is in two years. As long as I live to that time, I can easily score 700 points and choose a major with lots of beautiful girls.

Weng Qing thought Fang Yan was definitely the most terrifying person she had ever met. Was writing an exam paper really that fun? The smile on his ferocious face was somewhat terrifying.

I finished the physics test in five minutes, deliberately getting six questions wrong.

But today is not the time for that. I have more important things to do: verify the authenticity of the [Hunter Channel].

Perhaps I should keep a journal, something like a nautical log, recording the specific events of each day, suspicious targets and networks of relationships, to better organize everything. Too many beasts need to be eliminated, too many mind-control dogs need to be slaughtered; perfunctory approaches won't do, they need to be precisely extracted and eradicated like a scalpel.

He took out a red-covered notebook, but Fang Yan didn't know what to write.

I checked the time on my flip phone; it was almost eight o'clock. Even if no one passed through that underground parking lot last night, the commuters would find Dongni's body this morning, and the news would spread quickly.

Whether the Salvation Army is real or fake will soon be revealed.

Thinking of Dongni made Fang Yan feel uneasy again, but he quickly suppressed his feelings.

She was indeed my only confidante for a while, and you could even say she was my imagined lover, even though she was a living monster, even though she wanted to kill me in the most brutal way.

Perhaps it's true, as she said, that all people can think of is what they can think of, what those guys made them think of.

Signal towers, electronic viruses, surveillance, tracking, and domination are all too agonizing and maddening.

Fang Yan wrote the first sentence on the title page.

We will meet again in a place where there is no darkness.

(End of this chapter)