Chapter 52: Mask

“According to the case summary I generated, three days ago, someone used the transport channel to enter Investigation Team Alpha’s base and stole data related to Ruin Alpha-1703. Would you like me to elaborate?” The soft female voice spoke.

Xueqiu finally recognized it—Chang Yi, the Academy’s AI. No wonder their tones felt so similar: pleasant but emotionless.

“No, let us in first. We’ll talk inside,” Old Gu said, frowning.

He’d pulled a cigarette from his pocket but stuffed it back.

Xueqiu followed, scanning her face to enter.

She noticed “surprise” on some researchers’ faces.

Theft at the Investigation Team wasn’t common.

“Do we need to stay for the investigation? If not, can we pack up and leave? I think there’s a loser’s bracket final tonight… I mean, we should report back to the Academy,” Xia Yin said, his usual carefree tone accompanied by a lollipop in his mouth.

“You’re students, so you can go… How about this? I’ll check the footage and escort you out,” Old Gu said, scratching his hair like a scolded office worker, disheveled.

“Maybe we can help,” Ou Ziyun offered.

Xia Yin nearly dropped his lollipop. “Hey, Madam President, we’re students. Our job is to study, right? Leave this to the adults. Right, Xueqiu?”

Xueqiu was at a loss. She didn’t know how serious a data theft was, but “students should study” sounded odd from Xia Yin, who’d repeated four years.

“You can tag along if you want. Let’s see what kind of thief sneaks into Youdu,” Old Gu said, striding through the corridor.

Xia Yin acted indifferent but followed eagerly, like a lackey.

Chang Yi’s surveillance room was a small, messy office.

Used draft paper and repair manuals littered the desk, tangled with charging cables, a mouse, and a keyboard. A coffee cup teetered on the edge, residue inside.

One might think this was the theft scene, Xueqiu thought.

Old Gu plopped into a chair, clicking the mouse. The 24-inch screen showed only blurry footage.

“What’s this?” Old Gu grumbled, clearly annoyed.

Xueqiu glanced at Xia Yin, who stared at the screen, as if it were the only thing in the room.

“Can’t you sharpen it?” Old Gu hammered the keyboard. Seconds later, Chang Yi’s voice came from a corner speaker.

“My apologies, Deputy Leader Gu. This is the highest clarity available. There’s a chance the scene was interfered with, possibly by…”

“Stop, I get it,” Old Gu cut off, closing Chang Yi’s channel and replaying the footage.

The room filled with background noise as everyone watched the archive room on screen.

“Gotta make it that loud, Old Gu? Good thing my cowardly friend isn’t here—his Contract amplifies sound. Your volume would’ve blown his ears,” Xia Yin chattered.

“Shh,” Ou Ziyun hushed him.

Amid the noise, crisp footsteps rang out.

They were lively, joyful, almost excited.

Ten seconds later, the screen flickered.

A figure in a long black trench coat appeared, wearing what seemed a white hat, strolling through the archive like a child in a park.

But he wasn’t a child—about 1.85 meters tall.

“He’s wearing a Pivot’s uniform, but his face…” Old Gu’s voice trailed off.

He realized the figure was staring at them.

Only now did he notice, because he’d misjudged what was on the figure’s head.

It wasn’t a hat.

It was a mask.

The figure had been staring at the camera since entering, and still was.

Another flicker of static.

Xueqiu felt no fear with Xia Yin there.

But the figure seemed familiar, like they’d met.

She glanced at Xia Yin, whose condition seemed off.

He stared at the screen, fists clenched, veins bulging.

Faint black wisps emanated from him.

This flicker lasted five seconds.

When the screen cleared, the archive was empty.

Had he left? Xueqiu wondered.

Then, a white-masked face filled the screen.

The mask’s eyes were twin “X”s, its mouth a cracked grin.

Xueqiu remembered.

She’d seen him during the Contract test.

“Someone needs to stay and liaise with the Academy. I’ll do it. Su Xi, take Xueqiu back,” Xia Yin said suddenly.

Minutes ago, he’d been eager to leave. Why this now?

Wasn’t this Ou Ziyun’s line?

She’d keep Xia Yin here until the truth was uncovered, while he’d protest about “illegal detention.”

Xueqiu didn’t understand.

“Xia…” Su Xi started.

Bang!

A sharp gunshot echoed through the room.

Not a misfire—it came from the speakers.

The screen didn’t flicker from the shot.

The gunshot wasn’t from the masked figure but the surveillance system itself.

“Uh… the cameras here have remote-controlled weapons with tranquilizer darts. Guess Chang Yi finally noticed he was stealing,” Old Gu said.

Your AI’s slow on the uptake, Xueqiu thought Xia Yin would say.

She saw him as someone who’d mock machines.

“It didn’t work,” Xia Yin said coldly.

For someone usually unfazed, this tone seemed like an attempt at coolness.

But to Xueqiu, Xia Yin’s state teetered between hatred and fear—mostly hatred.

He bit his lower lip, fists so tight his knuckles whitened.

How could someone hit by a tranquilizer dart be fine? Xueqiu stared at the screen.

A strange sound came—like someone rising from the ground.

At the same moment, a peal of bells filled the room, long and ancient.

ps: Tomorrow’s update will wrap up the Investigation Team arc.
Haven’t begged for votes or tips in a while—sneaky plea here (guilty heart).