Bai Chunian paused for a moment, sitting on the floor with his back against the door. He chuckled softly. “You’ve finally slipped up. You played the part of Lan Bo so convincingly—you even fooled me.”
Lan Bo: “What?”
Twenty minutes earlier.
Bai Chunian slowly came to, finding himself lying on the bathroom floor. The walls were covered in yellow wallpaper, while the wall separating the wet area from the toilet was tiled in red.
There was a door on each of the two opposite walls of the bathroom; one required a fingerprint to open, and the other required a passcode.
He slowly sat up, rubbing his aching neck, and felt the cool suppressor against the back of his neck. Its shape felt different from any he’d worn before. Bai Chunian instinctively stood up, intending to go to the mirror to see what was special about this suppressor.
But the square mirror hanging above the sink wasn’t a mirror at all—it was a surveillance monitor.
The screen displayed three numbered feeds. Feed A showed Bai Chunian’s back as he stood with his hands in his pockets. Bai Chunian looked closely and noticed a tag hanging from the suppressor on the back of his neck, which read:
【Forcible dragging or triggering the alarm five times will activate the self-destruct sequence.】
Screen B showed Lan Bo, who had just woken up in another room that looked like a dining area. Through the lens, Lan Bo could be seen crawling up to the bar counter, sniffing around, and taking a bite out of the faucet. He looks around for a moment, crawls over to the door equipped with a fingerprint lock, mutters “What the hell is this?” under his breath, and presses his hand against the fingerprint scanner. Naturally, the input is incorrect, causing Bai Chunian to hold his breath in anxiety.
In Scene C, it’s the same dining room, but Lan Bo is lying motionless on the floor.
At that moment, a message appeared on the screen: “Please touch the screen to select a call recipient.”
“What kind of trick is this?” Bai Chunian was somewhat taken aback.
“What does ‘select a call recipient’ mean? Does that imply one of the Lan Bos in these two scenes is fake?”
He thought for a moment, selected option B, and muttered to himself, “At a glance, it’s obviously my wife.”
Once he made his choice, the surveillance feed vanished, and the screen reverted to an ordinary mirror.
At the same time, the communicator in his ear beeped, signaling that the connection had been established.
Bai Chunian cautiously removed the earpiece from his ear and examined it. Although it was a very precise replica, he could still spot some rough differences in the details. This earpiece was not the original model issued by IOA; it had been swapped out.
Worried that Lan Bo might recklessly start pressing the fingerprint lock buttons, he immediately called out to stop him: “Don’t press it.”
Lan Bo replied just as quickly, his voice full of delight: “Randi? Are you okay? Where are you?”
Hearing that voice, Bai Chunian relaxed slightly. To be honest, very few people could imitate Lan Bo so perfectly—not even the Invisible Stealthers could manage it. Lan Bo’s approach to tactics could be summed up in one word: “reckless.” He acted entirely on impulse, never considering the consequences, and when faced with a problem, he’d just start messing around haphazardly first and worry about it later.
But recalling the C-screen footage from just moments ago—where Lan Bo hadn’t woken up yet—Bai Chunian knew Lan Bo well, yet he feared the worst. He dared not easily confirm that the Omega he was speaking with was the real Lan Bo.
So he replied in as natural a tone as possible: “I don’t know. I woke up here. I threw up. I never want to wear this thing again in my life.”
Earlier, on the surveillance feed, he’d seen Lan Bo wearing a suppressor too—one with the same tag attached. Plus, the room Lan Bo was in didn’t seem to have any mirrors or anything that could serve as one. Of course, even if Lan Bo could see the tag, he might not recognize all those characters.
Bai Chunian tentatively explained that his suppressor was labeled with a warning: if forcibly dragged or if the alarm was triggered, there was a chance the self-destruct sequence would be activated.
He emphasized the phrase “there is a chance” rather than explicitly stating that there were four chances to press the wrong button before the suppressor’s self-destruct sequence would be triggered on the fifth attempt.
Bai Chunian decided to keep probing, seriously warning Lan Bo not to press buttons randomly anymore and reminding him that a single wrong press could kill him.
Unexpectedly, Lan Bo said, “Oh, I’ve already pressed it.”
Bai Chunian paused: “Did you figure out the password?”
Lan Bo: “I was just pressing randomly.”
“……” Bai Chunian suddenly leaned more toward the idea that this Lan Bo was the real deal.
However, he heard a ding from the communicator—the passcode lock had actually been unlocked by Lan Bo’s random pressing—which suddenly put Bai Chunian on guard. But upon closer reflection, since Lan Bo’s “Koi Blessing” was a passive ability not controlled by the inhibitor, it was indeed possible he’d guessed it correctly by sheer luck.
Bai Chunian’s doubts remained unresolved. He wanted to ask some personal questions directly to verify the other’s identity, but the fact that Lan Bo had immediately called him “Randi” at least indicated that he was already quite familiar with their relationship.
He couldn’t act rashly just yet.
He also worried about the other Lan Bo he hadn’t chosen. What if that one was the real one? Would he feel afraid when he woke up to find himself all alone? Given Lan Bo’s temperament, what if he randomly entered the password and exceeded the number of failed attempts?
In any case, he had to find a breakthrough as soon as possible and figure out the true motives of those who had ambushed them with freeze rounds and brought them here.
While he was busy looking for clues, Lan Bo suddenly said he’d found a bottle of wine and asked if he could drink it. Idiot, of course not—who knows what’s in there.
Bai Chunian even asked Lan Bo with a hint of hope if he could find any clues on the bottle, but Lan Bo’s answer felt so genuine. How could anyone act so adorably clueless? I love my wife so much.
Bai Chunian snapped out of his daydream and spotted the code reflected on the wall by a mirror. He successfully entered the infirmary, which housed a hospital bed and a medicine cabinet. The rooms all shared a similar style, with yellow wallpaper that made the space feel bright and airy—otherwise, being trapped in such a cramped, windowless room would surely drive anyone to depression.
Just as he reached the center of the room, the door he’d come through closed behind him. Then he heard Lan Bo say, “My door opened.”
Judging by Lan Bo’s description, he must have reached the restroom. After that, there was a brief silence.
Bai Chunian was surprised.
So it seemed Lan Bo was now just a door away from him. It seemed that only when he closed his door would Lan Bo’s open.
He hurried back to the tightly shut door, knocked hard, and asked Lan Bo if he could hear him.
Lan Bo: “I can’t hear you. The door is soundproof.”
Bai Chunian grew suspicious. Would Lan Bo even have the common sense to know that “the door is soundproof”?
His suspicion suddenly reached a peak, so he feigned nonchalance and said, “No problem. I just walked past that room. Just enter 74692.”
Lan Bo had always trusted him unconditionally, and Bai Chunian wanted to test whether he would obey. After all, the message he’d conveyed to Lan Bo was, “If you enter the wrong code, you might die.”
In reality, if the code was correct, there was no problem; but even if he got it wrong, he wouldn’t die as long as he hadn’t reached the limit. Bai Chunian knew exactly what he was doing.
Unexpectedly, Lan Bo actually tried it—and got it wrong.
Counting the first time he randomly pressed the fingerprint lock, he’d already made two mistakes, leaving him with only two more chances to get it right.
“…Looks like the code changes every time you unlock the door… I was careless. Be careful when you press the buttons—I don’t want to end up a widower.” Bai Chunian actually felt a little guilty.
While rummaging through his things, a thought occurred to Bai Chunian: each room had two doors. Without a fingerprint, one could only move forward, but with a fingerprint, one could go back.
If he could get a fingerprint, Bai Chunian could open the door leading back and see for himself whether Lan Bo was real or fake.
He crouched by the cabinet, carefully examining the handles for fingerprints. Someone must have used these rooms before; it was impossible for them to leave no traces at all.
Sure enough, there were quite a few fingerprints on the cabinet handles. Bai Chunian found a band-aid in the medicine cabinet, tried to lift the fingerprints with it, then wrapped it around his finger. He walked to the door with the fingerprint lock and placed his finger on it.
The fingerprint lock lit up with a red error light—it wasn’t that simple.
The fingerprints were a jumbled mess. Bai Chunian had nothing but his bare hands—no professional equipment, and not much time or opportunity to try them one by one—so he decided to give up for the time being.
With no other choice, he slipped the vial of suspicious liquid from the test tube rack into his pocket and headed to the next room to try his luck.
In contrast, the password for each room was surprisingly easy to find. The flower stand held only artificial flowers, yet a real spray bottle filled with water sat right next to it. No matter how he looked at it, something felt off. Bai Chu, being young and quick-witted, used the spray bottle to find the water-based password on the calendar and entered the next room.
This time it was an ordinary gym; the pale yellow wallpaper gave the room a cheerful, uplifting atmosphere.
It seemed that all the rooms were connected in a row. Thinking about it carefully, a building like this could only be shaped like a long strip. One could only praise the developer of this building complex for their unique way of thinking.
Bai Chunian walked to the center of the exercise equipment, and the door he had come through immediately closed. At the same time, Lan Bo said his door had opened as well.
“You’re in the infirmary, right? There are two hospital beds. Oh, there’s a spray bottle on the flower stand. Spray it on the calendar, and you’ll see the code. I think the code changes once a day, not every time you unlock the door. It should be the same one I used to get in just now.” This time, Bai Chunian wasn’t lying, and he was being more cautious, not daring to let Lan Bo make mistakes so easily.
Lan Bo, however, fell silent.
Bai Chunian felt a bit uneasy and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
Lan Bo asked, “The test tube rack is empty. Did you take the syringes?”
“Ah, yeah, I did,” Bai Chunian admitted honestly. Since Lan Bo was right behind him anyway, there was no point in lying about the contents.
Lan Bo’s tone turned suspicious. “What else did you see?”
Bai Chunian was puzzled as to why he was suddenly asking this, but he answered anyway: “Fake flowers, cold medicine, an IV stand.” To be honest, those were indeed the only things he had seen.
Lan Bo suddenly fell silent again.
Worried that he might be in danger, Bai Chunian moved closer to the wall, pressed his ear against it to listen carefully, and couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong, baby?”
Since his innate abilities weren’t suppressed by the inhibitor, Bai Chunian’s hearing remained keen. It seemed there were sounds, proving that Lan Bo was indeed in the medical room he had just passed through, but to be honest, he couldn’t make out much—the soundproofing was truly excellent.
Just as he was lost in thought, Lan Bo’s voice came through the communicator, sounding cold—even, even angry—as he demanded, “You’re lying to me. Do you think you can get away with this? You gave me the wrong password. You want to kill me. Who are you?”
The barrage of questions left Bai Chunian completely dumbfounded.
Bai Chunian: “??? What are you talking about? What’s going on over there?”
Lan Bo ignored him.
In fact, after Lan Bo entered the restroom and exchanged a few words with Bai Chunian, the communication suddenly cut off.
The square mirror above the sink transformed into a surveillance feed.
Lan Bo also saw the three screens and a line of text, but he skipped over the text entirely because he couldn’t read.
Screen A showed himself standing in front of the sink, propping himself up with his tail.
Screen B showed Bai Chunian rummaging through things in the infirmary.
Screen C showed Bai Chunian with his face pressed against the lens, very close up, his expression desperate. In the footage, Bai Chunian spoke to him anxiously: “Lan Bo, can you hear me? That wasn’t me on the call just now. Only one person can walk out of here alive. He just tried to kill you—don’t trust him. Don’t worry, as soon as the surveillance feed comes on, the call will cut off. The door is soundproof; he shouldn’t be able to hear me. Don’t be afraid—I’ll come save you.”
Lan Bo was startled by the sudden appearance of the two Randis and stood frozen in front of the screen.
Soon, the surveillance feed went dark, the glass returned to its normal state, and the communication resumed.
He heard Bai Chunian speaking again through the communicator, asking, “Lan Bo? We’re just a door apart right now. Can you hear me knocking?” ”
“I can’t hear you.”
Lan Bo replied, “I can’t hear you. The door is soundproof.”
Bai Chunian said, “It’s okay. I just walked through that room. Just enter 74692.”
Lan Bo hesitated.
He was very confused. That was definitely Xiao Bai’s voice—why would Xiao Bai lie to him?
He still followed Bai Chunian’s instructions and tried entering 74692.
The keypad lit up red, and an alarm sounded. Lan Bo’s heart sank.
Lan Bo calmly told him the result: “Wrong.”
Bai Chunian feigned surprise: “I didn’t say it wrong. Did you enter it incorrectly?”
Lan Bo desperately wanted to bite the imposter who was pretending to be his precious little kitten to pieces. Furious, he slammed the door twice, but it didn’t budge an inch. Because he was wearing the restraints, his strength was completely restricted.
At that moment, Bai Chunian told him how to check the code. Lan Bo suppressed his anger, used the correct code to unlock the door—the bathroom code was actually 14638.
Once Bai Chunian’s door opened, Lan Bo pushed it open and entered what he had described as the medical room.
To his surprise, the first thing that caught his eye was a corpse slumped against the cabinet, wearing a researcher’s uniform. The test tube rack was indeed empty; it seemed the intruder had taken the syringe on his way through.
Lan Bo let out a cold laugh. It seemed that imposter had mistaken the researcher for him; he’d struck first only to realize he’d killed the wrong person. Relying on the fact that Lan Bo couldn’t catch him, he still dared to play the innocent.
At that moment, Bai Chunian told him how to crack the infirmary’s code, but Lan Bo no longer trusted him. He decided to call the bluff and demanded, “ “You’re lying to me. Do you think you can get away with this? You gave me the wrong code—who are you?”
Unexpectedly, Bai Chunian chuckled lightly: “You’ve finally slipped up. You played the part of Lan Bo so convincingly—you even fooled me.”
Lan Bo hadn’t expected him to turn the tables: “What?”
Bai Chunian snorted derisively: “To guess the code by randomly pressing buttons in the cafeteria—I’d believe Lan Bo was capable of that. But you actually knew the code beforehand, didn’t you? Sometimes, acting too convincingly can backfire. My wife is clearly a fool—kid, you botched the performance.”