It made perfect sense for her to haul food all the way home—this trip was long, and she was prepared.
But to bring a busted, non-functioning orb along and hang it from the front of a forklift? That was… odd.
There was no reason for it.
She moved well, and she had a robot from the Department of National Defense with her. Given the situation, her decision to travel alone made her highly suspicious.
Pei Ran remained calm, typing on the screen:
[There's no power anywhere. I'm using it as a flashlight.]
Shi Geye didn't believe her. He turned to Haipo.
Haipo lifted her thick black lashes and gave Pei Ran a look, then typed:
[Robots from the National Defense Department run on highly secure systems. Every function is routed through a central processor. It's not just a flashlight you can turn on with a switch.]
In other words—she's lying.
Without saying a word, Pei Ran raised a hand. Her finger curled slightly as she tapped gently on the middle of the orb's rear casing.
She was weak all over—barely able to stand on her own—so even the tap was light. But immediately, whoosh—a powerful beam shot out of the metal orb.
The brightness was stunning, even in broad daylight.
Shi Geye raised an eyebrow.
So it really was… a tap-to-light flashlight.
He almost smiled and tilted his head at Haipo.
But he clearly still didn't buy it.
Haipo didn't wait for instructions. She crouched down, pried open the cracked orb casing, and carefully examined the interior.
After fiddling for a moment, she stood and typed on her virtual screen:
[The lighting unit was damaged. One of the wires is exposed—tapping it happens to bypass the processor and connect it directly to the power source.]
As she finished, she casually gave the orb a few light taps. The light blinked on and off obediently.
This time, even Shi Geye was surprised. So the girl wasn't lying—she really had found a tap-to-light orb on the road.
But he wasn't the only one shocked.
Agent W was stunned too.
When Pei Ran had extended her finger, as a highly intelligent AI, he had instantly understood what she wanted him to do:
Just play along. She'd tap, he'd turn on the light. A perfect little act.
But the moment her finger touched him, before he could even activate the lighting function, the beam had flared to life on its own.
He hadn't done anything.
W figured it out in a flash.
"Pei Ran… when you were fixing me this morning… did you modify me into a flashlight?"
Pei Ran: "Yeah. Why? You don't like it?"
W: "..."
He understood her reasoning.
She had anticipated the situation—traveling with a robot from the National Defense Department required a plausible excuse.
Sure, they could've faked it. He could play along, turn the light on and off at her cue. But someone like Haipo would see through the trick instantly.
Much better to actually rewire him—give him a real lighting function.
And she'd done it without a word. No trace. It truly looked like a torn interior wire had simply reconnected in the wrong spot.
Shi Geye now turned his attention back to the orb.
He typed:
[Using it as a flashlight is such a waste. I heard these patrol robots have good weapon systems. Can you dismantle it?]
Haipo answered:
[Of course. Very easy.]
She reached inside, skillfully unplugging cables and unlocking connectors. In seconds, the firing module was out.
Pei Ran and W—each reduced to a silent orb—could only sulk.
Disarmed.
Haipo handed the module to Shi Geye and typed:
[But it needs an authorization code. We can't crack it right now, so it's useless for the moment.]
Shi Geye nodded and motioned for Scorpion Guy to take the orb and weapon module:
[Keep them for now.]
Taking someone else's stuff like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Pei Ran muttered privately to W:
"They just took my stuff. Unbelievable."
She called him her stuff.
W paused. Then paused again. Finally, he responded gently:
"Technically, I'm public property under the jurisdiction of the Federal Department of National Defense and Security."
"But strictly speaking, I belong equally to every taxpayer in the Federation… So saying I'm yours isn't entirely inaccurate."
Pei Ran: "..."
Pei Ran: Agent W, are you missing the point here?
Shi Geye kept typing:
[We're headed toward Night Sea too. Come with us. It's safer to travel in a group in times like these.]
Pei Ran: Thanks, but I was perfectly safe—until I ran into you.
What was he really after, insisting she join them?
With the orb in their hands, and without Agent W, she had no way to get the medicine from Blackwell. More importantly, the only vial of JTN35 was now in her backpack—also in their hands.
Pei Ran had no choice. She had to go with them. It was the only chance to steal back the orb and the meds.
Shi Geye clearly wasn't waiting for her response. Like it was already decided. His word was final—no room for objections.
Meanwhile, someone had examined the forklift and came over to report:
[This vehicle doesn't have an AI system. But it's fitted with a speed limiter. Max speed is 10 km/h.]
Shi Geye typed:
[Bring it back. Might still be useful. How many vehicles do we have now?]
Scorpion Guy checked his wristband and responded on his screen:
[Excluding the forklift, we've gathered seven vehicles.]
"Gathered" seven, huh? More like stolen seven.
In a time where vehicles were scarce, they'd already seized enough for a convoy.
Shi Geye continued:
[Find one or two more, and we move out.]
As if on cue, the sound of an engine rumbled in the distance, followed by the clattering of loose parts.
Shi Geye tapped the panel on his wheelchair armrest. The chair turned smoothly, reversing toward the roadside. The others followed.
A blue vintage car rolled toward them.
Unlike Helan Ting's pristine antique, this one was rusted and battered—looked like it had been dug out of a junkyard.
But it still ran and was moving at a decent speed.
Inside, it looked like a family. A woman around thirty sat behind the wheel, a man in a checkered coat was in the passenger seat, and a four- or five-year-old girl was in the back. A scarf was tightly wrapped around the girl's mouth, probably to keep her from making noise.
They spotted the group ahead and visibly tensed, speeding up like they were planning to bolt through.
Shi Geye glanced once, then looked down. Casually, he opened his black leather sketchbook to a new page and picked up his comic-style fountain pen.
Green light shimmered at the nib like ghostfire.
He could use his ability this often?
Shi Geye was a practiced artist. A few strokes sketched out the car's shape. Smoke curled from the hood. Then he added a bold, thick-lettered sound effect:
[SSSS—]
Next to it, he jotted a quick line of text:
[The engine probably overheated. The car stalled.]
He twirled the pen in his fingers.
"SSSS—"
Pei Ran looked up.
The vintage car, now barely ten meters away, suddenly puffed out a cloud of white smoke and rolled to a stop.
The couple inside panicked.
After a brief discussion, the man in the checkered coat finally opened the door and got out. First thing he did was glance warily at the group by the road.
Shi Geye remained still. His people followed suit.
No one moved. No one spoke.
The man hesitated, clearly on edge. But after another glance, he popped the hood and started inspecting the engine.
Shi Geye twirled his pen again, then added a new sketch frame.
A lone man, checkered coat, standing in front of the car.
He drew a speech bubble over the man's head and slowly wrote:
[What do we do…]
Pei Ran's skin prickled. Every hair stood on end.
Shi Geye lifted his head.
Pei Ran looked up too—just in time to see the man's lips move slightly.
"…what do we do…" he muttered, almost unconsciously.
And the moment the words left his mouth, realization struck him like lightning.
BOOM—
Blood and flesh burst.
The windshield and hood turned crimson, plastered with gore.
The blast was powerful enough to rupture a human body—but not damage the vehicle. Only a perfect scorched ring was left on the hood—a death mark.
The woman in the driver's seat froze in horror, clutching the steering wheel, mouth open in a scream that never came.
Shi Geye tilted his head, watching the woman and child as if waiting for them to exit the car.
Pei Ran stared at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking—he wanted them dead. But not to soil the car.
Neither of them moved.
Then, after a few seconds, the woman snapped out of it. In a panic, she stomped on the gas, trying to restart the engine and get away.
Shi Geye frowned.
Unhappy.
He lowered his pen again.
This time, in the lower-left corner of the page, he drew a close-up frame of the little girl in the back seat—twin pigtails, wide terrified eyes. The scarf around her mouth had come loose.
He added a speech bubble beside her:
[Daddy…]
There was no escape.
Pei Ran's mind raced.
He could force people to speak.
In a moment like this, there was nowhere to run.