Chapter 48: Sea Without Light
After finally sending Night Cicada away, Kui Xin sat down at her desk and rubbed her temples.
Mechanical Dawn, Kui Haidong, Bioroid, Rick Technology Company.
From her one-hour tour, it was clear that Rick Technology Company was just a front created by Mechanical Dawn; the two were one and the same. She had seen the Rick Technology logo numerous times during her visit, and similar markings appeared on various materials.
Kui Xin had searched for information about Rick Technology Company online and learned that it had risen as a new company in the last twenty years.
In the First World, a company that had been running for twenty years could be considered a solid cornerstone. However, in the Second World, Kui Xin broadened her horizons and gradually understood that a company standing for twenty years was just a “little friend” in a world filled with conglomerates, with many older “big friends” around.
Conglomerates in various regions had stood unwavering for at least fifty years; they were the undisputed local lords, and even companies from different sectors collaborated to monopolize local manufacturing, service, dining, medical care, and technology, pressuring, acquiring, or investing in new companies.
Over time, it had become increasingly difficult for new companies to emerge, while the conglomerates drained the blood of ordinary people and emerging businesses, growing stronger under the protection of the Federation, becoming colossal giants difficult to shake.
For Rick Technology Company to have survived and thrived amidst the encirclement and oppression of numerous tycoons was indeed an astounding feat.
Kui Xin noticed that Rick Technology Company operated very discreetly; apart from a few product launches, there was almost no news coverage about them online. The company’s owner, Kui Haidong, remained hidden behind the scenes, almost never making public appearances. In this media-crazy era, no newspaper could obtain an interview with him.
This behavior starkly contrasted with the actions of her “Unworthy Father” in the First World.
Kui Xin vividly remembered that when her Unworthy Father achieved success in the city, he bought a particularly extravagant luxury car a few months in advance before returning home. On the way back, villagers ran to the road to watch as the car passed by.
Her mother would say that showing off wealth invites envy.
But her Unworthy Father would smugly declare, “I want them to see how much money I’ve made! The money spent on this car is what they’ll never earn in three or five lifetimes!”
He loved to save face and show off.
The Unworthy Father from the First World and the Unworthy Father from the Second World were strikingly similar; they looked alike, spoke alike, and even their gestures were the same. Therefore, Kui Xin unconsciously compared them, seeking their similarities and differences.
The sense of incongruity grew stronger.
“Is he pretending?” Kui Xin thought in confusion. “Is he disguising himself…? Why is he disguising himself? Is it out of caution, or…”
She planted a seed of doubt in her heart, and a strong instinct coupled with an inexplicable sense of incongruity was nurturing that seed to take root.
“Or… is someone guiding him to do this?” Kui Xin shivered.
Her Unworthy Father was impressive, indeed; he was not blowing up in the air. Not only did he not, but he also developed his company steadily, acted discreetly, and quietly built his power, turning Mechanical Dawn into a tightly organized entity hidden in the darkness.
Did he have such abilities on his own?
He didn’t possess such abilities; how did he achieve all of this?
Could someone be advising him? Was someone manipulating him? What goals did that person have in mind by using him?
Mechanical Dawn was like an unfathomable deep pool; the calm surface of the sea seemed to hint at everything, but there was much more hidden beneath the surface.
This visit to the Headquarters of Mechanical Dawn left Kui Xin with two questions.
The mystery surrounding Kui Haidong was just one; the second was…
The second was Kui Xin’s identity.
There were three Kui Xins in the world.
The first Kui Xin was the daughter of Kui Haidong from the Second World, a key member of Mechanical Dawn, carefully trained as an undercover agent.
The second Kui Xin was a student at Black Sea Academy, an intern at the Bureau of Investigation and Order Maintenance through an internal recruitment.
The third Kui Xin was herself, a player from the First World, a poor soul struggling at the poverty line, who would soon be going to university.
All three Kui Xins were, in fact, the same person. They shared the same appearance and had similar yet different families and backgrounds. Among them, the first and third had similar fathers, both named Kui Haidong, making them theoretical counterparts from different dimensions.
But what about the second one? The second had a complete growing trajectory; after entering the Bureau, she had encountered many colleagues who recognized her. The problem was, the first Kui Xin entered the Bureau without undergoing cosmetic surgery, using her true appearance—the appearance of Kui Haidong’s daughter. Why did the second one look exactly like the first?!
The identity of the second one must harbor something strange; perhaps her existence was just a facade created by Mechanical Dawn. Yet, the reality of her existence was undeniable, as there were traces of the second having lived in Black Sea Academy, the Bureau, and the houses on Peaceful Street.
This was a terrifying mystery story, with three Kui Xins existing simultaneously in the Second World.
The first replaced the second, and the third replaced the first.
After a series of purges, struggles, and inexplicable changes, only the third remained in the world! The Kui Xin from the First World!
Kui Xin shivered.
She suddenly felt as if she had entered a dark highway. She was walking along the road, completely unaware, while hidden eyes in the darkness silently watched her. The owner of those eyes coldly observed her as she walked, waiting for her to reach the end of the road and fall into a pre-set trap.
…
“Ha, working the day shift is much better! So comfortable!” Lan Lan stretched lazily.
Xueyao Shu took a sip of coffee and lowered his head to sort through files. “Of course, it’s comfortable when you don’t have to be in the sun.”
Members of the Coastal Security Team’s external operations group were not required to patrol every day; patrolling was an energy-intensive task. Doing it day and night continuously would take a toll on their bodies, so the Coastal Security Team also had shifts—such as day and night shifts, patrol and standby teams. When the team was on standby in the office, they only needed to conduct routine paperwork and training in the security office.
Today was the day for the Seventh Squad to sit in the office. They had little to do and would notify the patrol team when any issues arose, allowing for a rare moment of leisure.
“Paid tea breaks are a bit unfamiliar,” Liu Kangyun said, uncomfortably adjusting his shoulders.
Jiang Ming said, “If you’re bored, why not go down and practice shooting with Kui Xin? I see she looks a bit lonely training by herself on the range.”
“Sure, do you want to join?” Liu Kangyun replied.
“I’ve already exceeded my training quota for the day, ran ten kilometers this morning,” Jiang Ming said.
“Alright then.” Liu Kangyun touched his buzz cut and got up to head downstairs.
Lan Lan walked to the window and watched Kui Xin sweating profusely as she practiced shooting in the open training ground below.
“She’s still at it; she really doesn’t mind the heat.” He clicked his tongue, amazed at Kui Xin’s endurance.
“That might be the difference; while you’re idling in the office, she’s working hard,” Jiang Ming said. “I’m sure when we have the annual shooting and fighting evaluations, Kui Xin will be the standout dark horse.”
“I wasn’t idle either! I did physical training this morning; I’m not going out now because I’m helping the captain organize files,” Lan Lan said. “But I agree with you; I’ve never seen Kui Xin’s fighting skills. She’ll definitely rank in the top five in shooting.”
The reason Lan Lan had never seen Kui Xin’s fighting skills was that there hadn’t been an opportunity; suspects were often taken down with a couple of shots before they got close.
In dealing with various disputes at the port these days, Kui Xin’s decisiveness had turned heads among Xueyao Shu and the others. As soon as a suspect entered her five-meter range, she would definitely pull her gun to warn them. If they didn’t heed her warning and got within three meters, they were sure to get shot.
Strangely, Lan Lan noticed that Kui Xin had a particular quirk; she liked aiming for the targets’ left and right eyes when shooting.
Two days ago, during a robbery at the port, after killing someone, a fleeing robber happened to cross paths with them. Kui Xin had given a verbal warning, which failed, so she shot the robber in the head, aiming for his left eye.
Yesterday, they encountered a wanted gang member, and when Kui Xin shot, she again aimed for the eyes, this time the right eye.
Lan Lan curiously asked Kui Xin why she aimed at the left and right eyes; Kui Xin replied, “Um… maybe it’s a compulsion?”
Lan Lan looked puzzled, unsure what that meant.
In reality, the truth was that Kui Xin had become overly sensitive due to her past experiences. She was afraid that others might have hidden armor and thus might not be taken down with a single shot, causing the suspect to retaliate in their last moments. Therefore, she aimed specifically for the eyes to ensure a bullet would hit the brain.
She was someone who valued life.
An hour later, Kui Xin finished her shooting training and returned to the office with Liu Kangyun.
As they made their way upstairs, the office’s Xueyao Shu received an email from headquarters.
Augus reminded, “Captain Xueyao Shu, your team leader Wei Zhi has sent a task execution notice. Please check it promptly and inform the Seventh Squad members about the task.”
“Understood.” Xueyao Shu opened the email.
Jiang Ming turned his head to ask, “What’s the task?”
“I remember there’s hardly a need to execute additional tasks while working at the Coastal Security Team,” Lan Lan stroked his chin. “Is there an urgent situation?”
“Don’t rush; I’m looking.” Xueyao Shu read the email intently. “Perfect timing; Kui Xin and Liu Kangyun are back from training.”
Soon, the office door opened.
“Impressive,” Liu Kangyun said as he walked in, marveling, “This is talent, a sharpshooter!”
Kui Xin took a bottle of electrolyte water from the desk, opened it, and took a slow sip. “You’re making me blush… Is there no police activity today? It’s nearly been a day since we’ve had any.”
“There were a few minor disputes; the patrol team went over to handle them,” Xueyao Shu said, looking at Kui Xin’s flushed face from the sun. “Take a seat and rest a bit; we have a new task to execute.”
Kui Xin raised an eyebrow. “I thought life would continue uneventfully.”
“With daily patrols and handling disputes, we’re already busy enough. What more excitement are you hoping for?” Lan Lan said, speechless. “Of course, fewer matters are better. Wasn’t your mantra a while back, ‘Great! Today is another peaceful and beautiful day!’?”
“Just a casual
