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“What… what?” Wu Lun’s hand trembled as she poured water, almost dropping the kettle. She hastily steadied it and turned her head to glance at Lin Sanjiu and He Huan, her face a bit pale. “Everyone… everyone was captured together?”
He Huan’s spacious and comfortable apartment had recently become a base for Lin Sanjiu. Since she met Han Jun’s wife and returned the phone, her search plan had proceeded smoothly without any further mishaps. Sometimes, when Wu Lun rested, she would come along for fun; however, she and He Huan always seemed somewhat distant, and Wu Lun didn’t seem to enjoy hearing about anything related to posthumans – every time Lin Sanjiu mentioned it, she would uncomfortably turn her head away.
It was rare for her to be startled and blurt out involuntarily like this… it seemed that even if she didn’t like it, she had been listening all along.
“Well.” Lin Sanjiu carefully observed the girl standing in the kitchen in a daze and slowly said, “We found many factories abandoned in the outskirts. The factory buildings are all empty, and the entire factory area is like a dead city. It’s perfect for accommodating them.”
Even if those dozen or so people wanted to call for help, no one would hear their cries.
Wu Lun wiped her face and slightly calmed down. She turned around and continued to handle the pot in her hand, her back to Lin Sanjiu, asking, “They were suddenly taken away… they must have been frightened, right?”
That was inevitable. Only she would consider whether hostages would be scared when abducted by kidnappers.
“After dinner, are you… going to look for them? Where exactly is the factory?” Wu Lun absentmindedly grabbed a handful of noodles and put them in the pot, asking softly. She seemed to have something to say recently; thanks to her mother’s theory of hot noodle soup, Lin Sanjiu had eaten at least four or five meals of hot noodle soup these past few days, and she didn’t know if Wu Lun was trying to comfort the one eating the noodles or the one making them.
“Yeah, but I won’t harm them.”
As she replied, she slowly reached out and picked up the phone on the coffee table, flipping it over a few times. Wu Lun was careless; she didn’t like using phone cases. This old model phone already had several scratches on the back and was casually placed on the table.
He Huan, who had been lazily leaning on the sofa, raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled faintly. At a volume that ordinary people couldn’t hear, he asked, “Do you want to see her phone?”
His mind was indeed sharp.
Lin Sanjiu sighed. She knew Wu Lun’s password; she just needed to glance at it from afar when Wu Lun unlocked her phone. Opening it would only take a minute, but there was an invisible barrier.
She looked at the girl in the kitchen.
“Wu Lun,” she simply called out, skipping the hesitation. “Can I look at your call records?”
The figure in the kitchen paused momentarily but didn’t turn around. The chopsticks stopped a few centimeters above the pot as if she had forgotten what she was about to do. “Why do you want to see that?” Wu Lun asked.
Lin Sanjiu slowly said, “I want to find a phone number.”
Wu Lun put down the chopsticks as if she wanted to turn around but turned back again, still facing away. “Then… then go ahead.”
Considering the strict control over phone numbers in this world, it was surprising how numerous the harassment, fraud, and sales calls were. Wu Lun received an average of one of these calls every two days, not to mention various junk messages. Lin Sanjiu bypassed all the brief missed calls and voicemails, scrolling to the call records from June 10th.
After looking for a while, she put down the phone, causing the coffee table to make a thud sound. Wu Lun immediately turned around and asked from the kitchen, “Did you find the phone number you were looking for?”
“No.” Lin Sanjiu raised her eyes and smiled gently at her.
Wu Lun looked at her and opened her mouth but said nothing, lowering her head again to cook the noodle soup.
Late that night, when Lin Sanjiu and He Huan put on their masks and walked through the factory gate together, she felt like the noodle soup she had eaten turned into stones lodged between her ribs, pulling her heart down. A hidden anger emerged from nowhere, making her want to punch someone’s face repeatedly.
She strode through the empty factory, her footsteps echoing on the ground like thuds. The posthuman’s charging from a distance with anger evidently instilled instinctual fear, even in ordinary people like rabbits. The shadows of people sitting on those dozen or so chairs in the distance all responded, groaning and struggling, emitting um sounds.
He Huan remained silent, following closely behind her. Even when they finished dinner, and Wu Lun went home, he didn’t ask anything—Lin Sanjiu was not unappreciative of this.
She walked a few steps into the space between the dozen or so chairs, her gaze and the flashlight sweeping over the deformed faces pressed by duct tape. When she and He Huan kidnapped these dozen or so people, she felt somewhat guilty, but now, she just wanted to punch each of them.
“How is it?” Lin Sanjiu individually pierced their eyes with the flashlight, asking, “Do you all understand the situation now?”
Another round of muffled groans. The white light vividly illuminated half of their faces: some were blood-red, some were pale; every mouth was stuffed high with towels, wrapped round and round with duct tape, sealing their voices tightly. Their hands and feet were tied to the chairs, and one man apparently tried to escape when they were absent, now lying on the ground, unable to get up no matter how hard he tried.
She walked over, stepping on the chair of the man who fell to the ground and smiled.
“I don’t know what this ghostly place is all about, but I can’t be bothered. I just need one favor from you all,” Lin Sanjiu said, gesturing to He Huan. “After this is done, I can go home, and you all can go home too. Isn’t that a win-win situation?”
He Huan glanced at her, took a black cell phone from a bag, walked into the circle of chairs, and raised it to show them. “Whose is this?”
The people were silent for a while, seeming to not understand his meaning – Lin Sanjiu kicked the man and chair on the ground several meters away, the impact sound resonating loudly in the empty factory, echoing between the dusty shelves. The suppressed screams erupted from the throats of the hostages.
“My friend is asking a question: Whose is this?” When the echo subsided, she repeated softly.
A man with sparse hair and a relaxed figure immediately started making um sounds.
“When asked a question, you should answer,” Lin Sanjiu took out a blade to cut the duct tape from behind his ear – the man’s facial muscles twitched in fear, and he didn’t dare open his eyes; when the tape was torn off and the towel removed, his day-long terror burst out, “Don’t… don’t hurt me!”
“It’s about time,” He Huan’s voice was always very gentle and elegant, even though his expression had nothing to do with being gentle and elegant. “What’s the matter? Not threatening us anymore? Aren’t you an important person? Aren’t your subordinates definitely calling the police by now?”
Interestingly enough, these dozen or so people were clearly just owners of various TV stations, newspapers, magazines, and advertising agencies, but most of them were surprisingly bold – even when caught by unidentified kidnappers, they still dared to threaten and warn the kidnappers to be careful of the consequences. Especially after these dozen or so people were gathered in the factory, this boldness increased exponentially; everyone was colleagues in several cities nearby, and after recognizing each other’s identities, facing only two kidnappers, they almost formed a hostage alliance. Their confidence was so high that Lin Sanjiu was even troubled by it.