Chapter 17: Sea Without Light 17
Kui Xin felt a sense of stepping out of a tiger’s den only to enter a wolf’s lair as she stood in front of the Investigation Building.
In the morning, she had entered the city sewers through a secret passage beneath the cupboard in the Safe House, surfaced by lifting a manhole cover in a small alley a block away, and then taken the Hover Tram.
Hei Hai City is a coastal city with a developed drainage system, its sewers wide enough for two sports cars to run side by side. Frequent heavy rain in the past few days had raised the water level, but today the rain had stopped, and the water level was gradually receding.
To avoid the smell from the sewers clinging to her, Kui Xin had specifically called Silverface to create a water curtain to isolate the odor and clear the sewage, escorting her to her destination.
“I feel like I’ve discovered a lot of new uses for extraordinary abilities while following you…” Silverface said, somewhat contemplatively.
Washing dishes, cleaning vegetables, watering flowers, using water as a protective layer to isolate unpleasant odors—her extraordinary abilities had indeed been put to good use.
After Kui Xin boarded the tram, Silverface left.
At five o’clock in the morning when she fell asleep, Red sent her a message, telling her to go to work as usual and not to worry about traitors reporting her; he had already found some clues.
The reason Kui Xin came to work was not solely because of Red’s words, but because she had to make this choice.
If she played missing and avoided going to work, the Investigation Bureau would become suspicious of her. If last night’s instigator turned out to be an undercover agent within the Bureau, they could deduce her true identity from her disappearance, and suspicion would turn into certainty; she could only take the risk.
Kui Xin was a core member of Mechanized Dawn, but she did not know how much weight and value she held within it. Was her personal safety more important, or was her undercover identity and the intel she provided? Would Mechanized Dawn sacrifice her life for the latter?
If all of Kui Xin’s value rested on her undercover identity, then losing that identity would mean losing her value. A person with no value would not be taken seriously; she would be discarded by Mechanized Dawn.
She was already aware of a bit of the iron and cruelty of Mechanized Dawn; she could not allow herself to lose value.
As for the option of running away, Kui Xin had thought about it, but she could not act on it.
Her biological information, her accounts, everything about her was under the control of Mechanized Dawn. Zhe Jian had escaped from the psychiatric hospital, but in this highly technological society, he was unable to move an inch; the surveillance eyes monitored the city, high-tech devices searched for his whereabouts, and as a cashless society, his accounts were frozen, preventing him from even buying food.
Through Zhe Jian, Kui Xin was able to foresee the situation she would face if she attempted to escape.
On top of all this, Kui Xin would also face pursuit. Silverface was a silly person, yet he was also a qualified killer; his obedience stemmed from Kui Xin being his superior and a core member of Mechanized Dawn. If Kui Xin fled, Silverface would definitely not let her go, turning from a useful tool into a blade aimed at her.
The identities of the intern security officer and Mechanized Dawn member were Kui Xin’s umbrellas in the Second World.
Before she had enough ability to protect herself, she needed to properly maintain her identity and play the roles she was meant to.
“Welcome back, intern security officer Kui Xin,” Augus greeted as always when she entered.
“Good morning, Xiao Kui,” Lan Lan said from behind her.
“Morning, Lan Lan,” Kui Xin glanced back.
Lan Lan expressed concern: “Why do you look so tired? Didn’t sleep well last night?”
“Yeah, I hardly slept at all,” Kui Xin yawned as she walked into the elevator.
“I have coffee; want me to brew some to wake you up?” Lan Lan offered.
“No, it’s too bitter,” Kui Xin pressed the elevator button. “There are tea bags in the Rest Room; I’ll just make some tea.”
Lan Lan laughed: “Is it because you’re too nervous about the upcoming interview?”
“That does play a part,” Kui Xin sighed.
Inside the elevator, there was an electronic screen showing the time: 07:58. The working hours for the Investigation Bureau began at eight, and in about an hour, she would need to attend the interview.
As Kui Xin exited the elevator, the communicator in her pocket beeped.
Lan Lan’s communicator also rang, and he pulled it out to check: “Augus sent today’s work arrangements; let me see… Great, there are no tasks today. No field work required.”
Generally, when a team needs to carry out urgent tasks, Augus would notify team members immediately via the internal broadcast of the Investigation Building. If there were no tasks to execute, the day’s work arrangements and training plans would be sent to members’ personal communicators for review.
Kui Xin opened her email and, as expected, saw that today’s arrangement was an interview.
No training, no field work, just an interview.
If she failed the interview, Kui Xin would lose this job, so there was no need for further task arrangements.
“I’m heading to the Tech Room to clock in; good luck with the interview,” Lan Lan raised his hand.
Kui Xin took a moment to realize that Lan Lan wanted to give her a high-five, so she raised her hand too.
“Smack!” Their palms connected.
Lan Lan turned to leave, and Kui Xin contemplated how to spend the next hour—whether to practice shooting in Area A or catch up on sleep in the Rest Room.
Before she could decide, Augus’s voice came through: “Intern security officer Kui Xin, your interview time has been changed. Please report to Room 5313 on the fifth floor immediately; your interviewer is waiting.”
Kui Xin was surprised: “Why has it been changed?”
“There is a temporary work adjustment; I am unable to explain the specifics. Please proceed to Room 5313 on the fifth floor for your interview immediately,” Augus replied.
“Okay.” Kui Xin turned and pressed the elevator button.
It was common for there to be temporary tasks and unexpected situations within the Investigation Bureau; perhaps her interview schedule conflicted with another interviewer’s arrangements, hence the change.
The elevator ascended, and Kui Xin took a moment to adjust her breathing. When the doors opened, she stepped out with steady strides into the hallway.
“Please follow the green indicator lights,” Augus pointed out the direction and route to Room 5313 for Kui Xin.
As she walked down the long corridor, Kui Xin stopped in front of Room 5313. The metal door opened silently, and she stepped inside.
What greeted her was a long black table, behind which sat four individuals—two men and two women.
A man with graying hair and a calm demeanor, a young man in a suit with neatly styled hair and gold-framed glasses, a capable and serious middle-aged woman resembling a homeroom teacher, and an elegantly poised woman with red, wavy hair.
Kui Xin quickly cross-referenced their profiles in her mind. The gray-haired man was Chen Dongchang, the leader of the logistics support team; the young man with glasses was Gong Zian, the head of the information technology team; the stern-looking middle-aged woman was Wei Zhi, the head of the field operations team and Kui Xin’s direct superior along with Xueyao Shu.
The last one, the red-haired woman, was none other than the renowned leader of the criminal investigation team, Jiang Meimei.
“Kui Xin, right?” Wei Zhi said. “Please have a seat.”
“Yes, good day, team leaders,” Kui Xin replied, sitting down in front of the four interviewers.
Wei Zhi nodded and, in an official tone, said, “Xueyao Shu has submitted your formal application to me. I’ve reviewed your performance during the internship and your field records; you are an outstanding individual. However, whether you can remain in the Investigation Bureau will depend on the outcome of your upcoming interview.”
“I understand; I’m ready,” Kui Xin replied earnestly.
Wei Zhi not only resembled Kui Xin’s homeroom teacher in demeanor, but her speech also invoked a sense of tension in Kui Xin. Although she had prepared herself mentally and was calm, Wei Zhi’s presence naturally made her feel nervous. The grueling study routine from her senior year had left an indelible shadow, and the fear of waking up from a nap to find the homeroom teacher too close for comfort echoed deeply within her.
At that moment, Jiang Meimei smiled: “No need to be so tense; just relax. We’ll ask questions, and you simply answer them as if we were just chatting.”
Jiang Meimei’s manner of speaking reminded Kui Xin of Director Yang from the Psychological Therapy Office. A closer look revealed a slight resemblance… Could they be related?
Chen Dongchang, the logistics support team leader, asked, “Are you adapting well in the Investigation Bureau, Kui Xin?”
When he spoke, he resembled someone of high status, but once he began, he sounded like an elder or a relative.
The tension in Kui Xin’s heart eased a bit.
She decided to speak honestly, just the truth.
“I think I’m adapting fairly well. I can handle most tasks; only a few are not perfect due to them being my first encounter. My mindset needs a bit of adjustment too,” Kui Xin said. “I’ll work hard to overcome this.”
“Do you want to stay in the Investigation Bureau?” Chen Dongchang inquired.
“Yes,” Kui Xin replied carefully, “But this job sometimes requires facing significant dangers, and I do worry about getting hurt or worse…”
Jiang Meimei asked, “Worried about facing death yet still wanting to work here?”
“Without considering the risks, I believe being a security officer is a great job; the pay is high, there’s room for advancement, and my coworkers are quite supportive,” Kui Xin answered candidly.
If she could land a civil servant job in the First World, it would be like a dream come true. The Investigation Bureau is part of the Federation and is a legitimate government department, offering superior pay compared to other places. If Kui Xin were a native of the Second World, then this job in the Investigation Bureau would truly be her best choice.
“We have reviewed your family background information,” Gong Zian, the information technology team leader, interjected. “You’ve accrued substantial loans in order to attend university, haven’t you?”
“My family’s circumstances aren’t great…” Kui Xin appeared to answer but was dodging the question.
She did not directly say yes or no.
Gong Zian pointed out cautiously, “Your motivation to remain in the Investigation Bureau is financial, correct?”
Kui Xin thought for a moment. “As someone from a low-income background, I understand how important it is to have a stable job with good pay… But money isn’t my main reason for wanting to stay.”
“Tell us more about that,” Gong Zian encouraged.
“I want to stay because this is the best choice for me. In the Investigation Bureau, I can learn, grow, and receive a salary while caring for each other among colleagues in a good working environment. Aside from the psychological stress of high-risk work, I’m quite satisfied with everything else… I find it difficult to see a better path; this is why I want to stay,” Kui Xin said, smiling a bit shyly. “Sorry if I’m being too direct; I’m a pragmatic person.”
“Most people in the Investigation Bureau are pragmatists; I am too,” Gong Zian adjusted his gold-framed glasses. “While the brilliance of idealism is dazzling, being practical lets you go further.”
The interviewers’ expressions remained inscrutable, and Kui Xin steadied her mindset, believing she was performing well so far without revealing any suspicious points.
Kui Xin was a traverser; she could tell part of the truth. If it were the original self here, she wouldn’t be able to truthfully answer the previous questions.
When Gong Zian had asked about her reasons for wanting to stay in the Investigation Bureau, she couldn’t possibly say, “The organization sent me to be an undercover agent, so I want to stay.”
Such an answer would never do. Yet, if truthful answers were out of the question, then she needed to lie. But lying was difficult; with extraordinary ability to identify lies, her deception might be exposed even by advanced lie detection technology, making it hard for her to pass the interview.
Chen Dongchang said, “We have a set standard for evaluating whether interns qualify for permanent positions; psychological assessments are crucial.”
“Are you referring to pressure tolerance and mental health?” Kui Xin asked.
“Yes,” Chen Dongchang replied in a deep voice. “You should understand how dangerous our work can be. I heard that you sustained injuries previously and replaced your skull with an alloy one.”
“The alloy skull is very effective; it provides excellent protection for my head,” Kui Xin stated.
“The Federation allocates funding to the Investigation Bureau every year, with a significant portion going to compensation for injuries and fatalities. This is a job that accompanies death; you face not only the deaths of adversaries but also the deaths of your teammates,” Chen Dongchang explained. “We want to confirm whether you have the capacity to endure such psychological pressure.”
“I believe I can endure it,” Kui Xin said. “I haven’t experienced the death of a teammate; I’ve only experienced the death of enemies. Looking back on that scene now, I feel much calmer.”
Wei Zhi fixed her gaze on Kui Xin’s eyes: “Xueyao Shu submitted your report; your first kill occurred not long ago, targeting two robbers on Peaceful Street.”
“Yes,” Kui Xin affirmed, as that was indeed her first kill, and she had no need to be vague in her response.
She said, “That incident on Peaceful Street was an overreaction; the best course of action wasn’t to kill; I know that now.”
“Your second kill was the escaped mental patient, Zhe Jian?” Wei Zhi inquired.
“Yes,” Kui Xin replied.
“What was it like for your first kill?” Wei Zhi asked.
Before Kui Xin could answer, Jiang Meimei beside her said, “If you don’t want to recall it, you can decline to answer. I understand that remembering such things can be unpleasant.”
Kui Xin paused for a moment before choosing to respond: “Panic, confusion, fear, unreality… and nausea.”
“How did the feeling of your second kill differ from the first?” Wei Zhi continued to ask.
“The second was even more disoriented than the first,” Kui Xin murmured, “but I was more proactive; I fired the gun myself, consciously engaging in thought and judgment, and after deep consideration, decided to deprive Zhe Jian of his life… I do not regret doing this.”
Wei Zhi’s tone softened slightly: “You understand the sanctity of life, which is good. Excessively rational can become cold-hearted, while excessive emotion can lead to weakness. Striking a clear balance between reason and emotion is something you need to achieve.”
“I understand; thank you for the reminder,” Kui Xin said softly.
“You’ve been to the Psychotherapy Room, right?” Jiang Meimei remarked. “How was the experience of receiving psychological counseling?”
“I have been; Director Yang is very nice, and chatting with him is quite relaxing. I like the decor of the Psychological Therapy Office,” Kui Xin joked, “Hmm… If I ever have my own office, I would consider Director Yang’s decoration style.”
Jiang Meimei chuckled lightly, saying, “You’re an interesting person, Kui Xin.”
“I hope it’s not too presumptuous of me to ask, but are you related to Director Yang?” Kui Xin wondered. “You and he look strikingly alike, and your manner of speaking is similar too.”
“I am his cousin,” Jiang Meimei revealed. “He majored in psychology in university; I specialized in forensic psychology. He became a therapist, while I became a security officer.”
“Oh, I see,” Kui Xin said.
“Some individuals are quite resistant to psychological counseling and treatment; those with strong personalities and accomplishments in certain fields can be particularly stubborn. They insist on believing that mental illness is nothing serious. However, psychological treatment is necessary; they might have strong bodies and outstanding intellects, but that doesn’t mean they possess an unbreakable mind. People always refuse to expose their vulnerable sides in front of others,” Jiang Meimei continued. “The Investigation Bureau has many such stubborn individuals; don’t learn from them; seek psychological counseling whenever there’s a problem.”
“I will remember your advice,” Kui Xin replied.
Gong Zian looked at Kui Xin and asked, “Do you have any goals you wish to achieve?”
Kui Xin said, “No long-term goals at the moment; my short-term goal is to do my job well, strive to improve, and study diligently.”
“Be pragmatic, but don’t only look at the present; keep your vision long-term,” Gong Zian advised.
Jiang Meimei smiled slightly: “I quite like you, Kui Xin. Once you become a formal member, how about transferring to our criminal investigation team? Your major is crime scene technology, and I’ve seen your grades; they’re quite impressive, with solid theoretical knowledge.”
Wei Zhi raised an eyebrow: “Are you trying to poach her already?”
She definitely must not transfer there, Kui Xin thought apprehensively.
Rumors had it that Jiang Meimei’s extraordinary ability was “lie detection.” Transferring would significantly increase her interactions with Jiang Meimei, and she couldn’t possibly lie every time they met. Moreover, Kui Xin had no actual theoretical knowledge of forensic science; she was still struggling with the material, and transferring would spell disaster.
Kui Xin thought of an excuse: “I told Captain Shu that I won’t apply for a transfer unless the other team leaders show consideration for their subordinates…”
A slight smile appeared on Wei Zhi’s serious face.
Jiang Meimei feigned disappointment: “Well, that’s too bad, Kui Xin.”
Chen Dongchang’s communicator vibrated, and he looked down briefly before standing up: “I have a mission; I must leave first, everyone.”
He nodded slightly to his colleagues in the conference room as a farewell and walked out without pausing.
The remaining three interviewers asked Kui Xin a few more questions, to which she answered steadily. The entire interview process lasted approximately fifteen minutes.
“The interview can conclude now,” Jiang Meimei said. “The reason for starting the interview early was due to time constraints. Most of us have tasks to execute, and it’s tight on time, making it difficult for us to gather.” She glanced at the time. “I have things to attend to, so I’ll be going.”
Unable to help herself, Kui Xin asked, “So does that mean I passed the interview?”
“Of course,” Jiang Meimei smiled broadly. “Congratulations on officially joining the Investigation Bureau, Kui Xin.”
Wei Zhi also smiled, “You did quite well, Kui Xin.”
“Your information within the Investigation Bureau will be updated shortly; additionally, your citizen level will rise from level four to level three,” Gong Zian noted. “Welcome aboard.”
Citizen level is an important factor.
Based on citizen level, people enjoy different welfare treatments in society. For instance, when someone goes to the bank to borrow money, those with a higher citizen level often find it easier to secure low-interest loans, and pension distributions and insurance services vary accordingly.
Most law-abiding citizens are level four; those with minor criminal records are level five, and those with serious criminal records are level six, the latter of whom lose political rights. Kui Xin’s elevation to level three citizen status is because she is now a member of the federal government, distinguishing her from ordinary individuals.
This is a world with clear class distinctions.
Kui Xin vaguely guessed that this interview was not merely a test of her abilities, but of her heart.
The interviewers were assessing whether she was lying, validating her identity and intentions for joining the Investigation Bureau… As long as her identity and objectives were sound, her transition to a formal member was virtually assured.
Wei Zhi approached Kui Xin and said, “Go find your team leader; he will conduct your formal member training.”
“Training?” Kui Xin was taken aback.
“Yes, training,” Wei Zhi said meaningfully. “To give you a glimpse of the other side of the world… Essentially, you’ve already seen quite a bit; you just haven’t had a systematic understanding of it.”
Kui Xin recalled, “You mean…”
“Xenomorphs. The parasitic hydra you encountered in a previous mission is only one of many kinds of xenomorphs. There are more dangerous varieties with even more terrifying abilities,” Wei Zhi explained. “Go take a look, Kui Xin. The secrets of this world are far greater than you imagine.”
