NOVEL NEXT Chapter 11
Chapter 11: The Sea Without Light
Xueyao Shu said, “Augus, play the recording provided by the institution.”
“Affirmative.” As Augus responded, a video clip appeared.
In the brightly lit treatment room, the head psychiatrist was seated behind a desk, while the criminal psychopath, Zhejian Chai, was sitting across from it.
His face was gaunt, with a week’s worth of stubble on his cheeks, deep sunken eyes with prominent bags. He was restrained to a chair.
He tried to open his eyes wide and curled his fists, exclaiming, “I’m definitely not from Hei Hai City. I am indeed Zhejian, but I haven’t committed any crime! I’m not a criminal or sick!”
“Alright, I understand. Please calm down, Mr. Chai!” The psychiatrist leaned back, speaking carefully in case he might trigger Chai’s rage.
Chai retorted fiercely, “Do you know anything? I didn’t lie! I’m not a criminal! I haven’t done anything wrong—nothing at all!”
“Mr. Chai, I understand how you feel.” The therapist discreetly pressed the distress button under the table. Should Chai act aggressively, the guards outside would burst in to subdue him.
“Understand this? I simply fell asleep, and woke up in this damned place! My name is Zhejian, a resident of Jinling. I didn’t commit any crimes!” Chai roared with despair visible through the holographic projection. “Lawyer, get me a lawyer! I want to report!”
The therapist replied, “Mr. Chai, as a Level 6 citizen, your political rights have been revoked; you have no right to appeal, and we cannot provide you a lawyer.”
“Damn! What nonsense are you talking about?” With effort, Chai broke free from the restraints and lunged at the physician, intending to grab his collar.
The therapist pressed the alert button and dodged backward.
The doors of the treatment room burst open, security guards stormed in and subdued Chai, forcibly pressing his face onto the table.
“I’m not a criminal, I swear I’m not!” His face distorted from the force, and his words echoed hazily through his mouth.
Swiftly, the therapist extracted a sedative from their jacket and injected it into Chai’s neck.
Dazed, Chai murmured, “Let me… go home…”
He closed his eyes and, under the influence of the drug, fell into a deep sleep.
Kui Xin watched the scene with an expressionless face.
Her beginning was fraught with danger. Compared to her, Xiliang Xi’s start was ordinary, perhaps just financial struggles. However, look at the tragic fate of Zhejian Chai. Kui Xin wasn’t sure whether their plight was worse in comparison.
Chai was extremely agitated, in an irrational state. If he could only calm down, he would be able to summon the game system easily and comprehend his basic identity. But he was too panicked and terrified, losing his rational judgment.
Kui Xin mused on how many people read the announcement and documents seriously when agreeing to play the game. Few people memorized and adhered to the six warnings. She knew that several players just scanned and confirmed without reading.
Perhaps, Chai hadn’t read the game email seriously and lacked knowledge about survival rules, placing him at a disadvantage.
Kui Xin learned that within the Federation, capital punishment had been abolished since 80 years ago. If Chai stayed in the psychiatric hospital and received treatment, he would live safely without risk—but he would lose his freedom.
However, Chai had escaped. Upon his escape, the Investigation Bureau had the authority to eliminate him directly.
Kui Xin had killed two bandits without any punishment. Should the Seventh Squad eliminate Chai, they would not face any consequences and might receive commendations.
“Chai lacks anti-tracking experience; he attempted to buy food at a convenience store a bit northwest of here—an hour ago. Because his account was frozen, he failed to purchase the food,” Shu Xueyao detailed, “Map.”
Augus listed the city map, marking柴剑’s locations and movement lines with small red dots and lines on a red path.
“He operates mainly in the North District,” Shu explained, “An attempt to buy food an hour ago failed due to his blocked account. Based on my calculations, he remains in the North District. He cannot use public transportation or enter public places.” Shu zoomed the map in, “The slums in the North District are sparsely surveilled, making it an ideal hiding place for fugitives. This area needs thorough inspection.”
“Chai’s mental condition is highly unstable, his extraordinary ability lacks lethal power, but its effects are unclear.” Shu continued, “Our tactic involves a combined approach: Xueyao, Jiang Ming, and Liu Kangyun will perform the chase, while Lan Lan controls the drone swarm. Kui Xin, you’ll be our long-range sniper, is that clear?”
Lan Lan leaned over, sizing her up as if challenging, “Can you handle it, newcomer?”
Kui Xin, combining information with his appearance, recognized him as Lan Lan, the team technician responsible for maintaining and operating technology equipment.
“I can manage, Captain.” Kui Xin reluctantly accepted her command.
“Alright, let’s hurry up and change into our gear,” Shu announced.
Everyone stood up, left the office in sequence, turned right at the corner, and lined up in front of the door marked ‘Equipment Room’—scanning their irises to enter.
Kui Xin scanned her iris as well and entered.
From somewhere, Adam’s voice sounded: “This mission demands bulletproof combat attire, standard firearms, close-combat weaponry, the K-80 long-barreled sniper rifle, micro-drones, data monitors, spare communicators, blast-proof helmets, and emergency medical packs.”
“Please ensure everything is correct before leaving the equipment room.”
The entire room was filled with the scent of gunpowder and oil—the remnants of military-grade weapons and tools.
Black rifles neatly hung on racks, each chamber gleaming. Various magazines and bullets showcased a cold sheen. Kui Xin spotted other unusual equipment whose functions were unclear.
Following her teammates, Kui Xin secured her bulletproof suit, then went to change in the women’s locker room.
The black combat suit was plain with no additional decorations. Despite being snug, the fabric was thin yet elastic. Kui Xin fastened her belt, which had numerous hidden clasps to secure her guns and magazines.
She grabbed a standard-issue handgun based on the weapon labels and attached two magazines. She also selected a short blade with a sharp edge and an anti-glare surface.
At the helmet rack, Kui Xin took a helmet—a non-enclosed design primarily protecting her rear brain.
As a sniper, Kui Xin required an extra K-80 long-barreled sniper rifle.
Seeing the weapon rack full of unassembled parts made her feel uneasy. The K-80… it was huge, and unbuilt!
Her scalp prickled; unable to assemble the pieces, she stood motionless.
“What’s wrong?” Lan Lan leaned over, curious.
“Captain said my shooting was perfect, but I’ve never assembled a gun before,” explained Lan Lan.
Closing her eyes, Kui Xin resolved herself and gripped the pieces.
Within moments, she efficiently assembled the long-barreled sniper rifle.
Luck and her inherent combat instinct facilitated the task, a muscle memory built by assembling thousands of pieces in the past.
Kui Xin lifted the K-80 and addressed Lan Lan, “I did it.”
“Lucky you!” Lan Lan grinned, grabbing the spare communicator from her hands and securing it on her waist, “You took care of the gun; I managed the communicator.”
“Thanks,” Kui Xin replied. Relying too much on instinct wouldn’t do; theory was still essential.
Kui Xin recalled keeping a forensics textbook from university on her bedroom desk. Once she found time, it was vital to review it.
Leaving the equipment room with her team, they walked to a corridor. Adam announced, “Seventh Squad, please follow the yellow indicators. Captain Shu Xueyao has already reached the helipad.”
“You forgot to unlock your helmet,” Lan Lan noted, standing side-by-side with Kui Xin.
“I don’t have hands…” Kui Xin held the heavy K-80 as they moved forward, struggling.
Fortunately, this body was exceptionally resilient, allowing her to wield the bulky gun effortlessly.
She clarified further, “Please, don’t call me ‘Little Kui,’ it sounds odd.”
“Really? You can call me ‘Little Lan’ too,” Lan Lan grinned, helping with the helmet.
With a tap, she activated the helmet’s display, revealing a green data overlay: “Welcome, intern security officer Kui Xin. I will filter communication within the squad and gather wind direction, speed, humidity, obstacles, target distance, aim angles, and Coriolis effect data, aiding your shooting accuracy.”
Impressive. Kui Xin whistled with admiration.
The elevator doors opened, shut, and ascended, leading them to the rooftop.
Shu Xueyao stood before an extended police car on the top deck. “Prepare for departure.”
“Yes, Captain!” the Seventh Squad responded in unison.
They boarded the vehicle sequentially. Kui Xin held the long-barreled sniper rifle occupying the last seat.
The vehicle rose into the air.
Silent Liu Kangyun suddenly spoke, “Inspect your firearms’ safety mechanisms. Safety first.”
Jiang Ming sighed, “Yet again.”
Lan Lan, from the front seat, explained to the bewildered Kui Xin, “Once his safety malfunctioned during a ride, causing an accidental discharge hitting a police car. Luckily, nobody was hurt.”
Checking the safety on her weapon, Kui Xin felt a twinge of unease.
“Don’t worry too much,” Shu reassured from the driver’s seat. “Simply focus on aiming and shooting. Don’t think of anything else.”
“Will do, captain,” Kui Xin said in a hushed tone.
Rain continued endlessly, matching her dreary mood.
The vehicle’s windows, clouded with raindrops, obstructed her view. Flying for half an hour, the vehicle slowed down gently.
“Target location detected,” Adam reported. “Ideal sniper spot at Freedom Square Tower. Kui Xin, proceed to the signal tower. Lan Lan, you’ll control the drones there. The tower is two hundred thirty meters tall, providing excellent visibility.”
“Go,” Shu commanded.
The Seventh squad exchanged glances. Kui Xin and Lan Lan led the way towards the nearby tower.
Reaching the top, Kui Xin took a deep breath, kneeling and setting up the K-80, aligning the scope.
Lan Lan unpacked a metal box. Five drones separated from the container, like birds of prey diving into the rain, heading to the residential area.
“They are mainly for scanning. It’s better to avoid weaponry-drones in civilian areas,” Lan Lan controlled the drones via a panel, “Adam manages the drones too, but focusing on analysis instead of operation. Manual operation saves computing power, enhancing response efficiency. Actually, the Department should upgrade Adam’s core, making our work easier.”
Kui Xin paid undivided attention, silent.
Through the high-powered scope, she searched the residential area below for any sign of Zhejian Chai.
Each millimeter adjustment of the K-80 brought her closer to locating Shu and his team. She then focused on the civilians below, both ordinary residents and potential threats.
Kui Xin’s senses became hyperactive, akin to a hunting hawk soaring above or a lurking python concealing in the dark. She acted on instinct, becoming a hunter.
For an instant, she felt an overwhelming urge to shoot every moving target in her scope—teammates or common folk in the slums.
She breathed evenly, adjusting her mindset, purging thoughts.
“The target has appeared,” Adam suddenly stated.
Lan Lan controlled the drones to track the target.
Kui Xin quickly aimed her rifle, searching under Adam’s mark—she found him!
A frantic figure appeared within her sight, a barefoot man with a slice of bread in his mouth, running through the streets.
“Target at 986.2 meters; current wind at level 2.3,” data flashed before Kui Xin.
Locking onto Chai, her finger rested on the trigger.