Chapter Sixty-Three: Turbulent Undercurrents

In the high-level meeting of City C, district leaders and security officials gathered in the main hall. Except for Guo Zhenghua, who had to leave urgently for other matters, nearly all the city’s core figures were present.

Governor Gong Yinzhe, his expression grave, addressed the assembly: “Prime Minister Liang from Central Asia has already departed for the World Conference with his administrative team. Before leaving, he issued clear directives to every province. Regarding the handling of this Alpha incident, I’ll summarize City C’s current plan: First, secure all the game pods and deploy heavy security. Second, if anyone emerges from a game pod, apprehend them immediately—do not notify their families. Third, publicly announce Alpha Corporation’s conspiracy to divert attention, and, from today, detain all Alpha employees, even the janitors.”

“I have a question,” Sun Cungang, the city’s disciplinary supervisor, frowned. “What will be done with the detained players?”

The room fell silent. Clearly, the question was extremely sensitive. Gong Yinzhe paused for a long moment, finally replying weakly, “The capital has dispatched research teams to all provinces. The captured players will be handed over to them.”

“And then? Dissection? Human experimentation?” Sun Cungang stood up, agitated.

“No need for such emotion, Supervisor Sun. We’re out of options here,” Gong Yinzhe tried to placate him.

Sun Cungang sneered, “Have you forgotten the oath of the Central Asian government? We are servants of the people—what are we doing here? Human experimentation? Have you no concept of human rights?”

“Human rights?” Gong Yinzhe’s face darkened. “Do you know what time it is? According to the capital, the Northern European zone started public testing twelve hours before Central Asia. Do you realize what that means? With their security awareness, they likely spotted the issue ten hours ago—so why didn’t they notify us, or the Federation?”

Seeing the silence, Gong Yinzhe stood up. “Those who’ve emerged from the game pods possess the strength to single-handedly defeat a military unit. Do you understand what that implies? We’re twelve hours behind. If they break through first, do you realize the consequences? We cannot be left behind in this changing era. If other regions learn this secret first, our nation will be at a severe disadvantage. Must I remind you of the principle: nation before family? As officials, you should cooperate!”

His meaning was deeper still; many high-ranking officials in the room had purchased private game pods for their children, but few had surrendered them. The highest administrative center had given him this as his main task.

The crowd responded with cold smiles. This governor had parachuted in from the capital just six months ago, clearly representing Central Asia’s central authority. But to hand over their children—what a joke.

Deputy Governor Zhang Chaowen, also the judicial executive, sipped his tea and spoke slowly: “Naturally, the government’s call must be answered. We are citizens ourselves and must cooperate in such circumstances.”

“How exactly?” Chief Supervisor Chen Bing, in charge of administration and construction, sneered. “Are we to hand over our children for dissection?”

“No need for emotion, Comrade Chen Bing,” Gong Yinzhe replied, his face livid. He noticed the cold stares from the military officials. When he first received this order from the capital, he himself thought it was ridiculous. Who came up with such a stupid plan? Even rabbits bite when cornered—forcing people to sell their children is guaranteed to provoke outrage.

“I can’t control my emotions,” Chen Bing slammed his cup down, stood, and declared, “Let’s be direct—neither people nor game pods will be surrendered. I draw my salary to protect the people here, but at the very least, I must protect my own family.”

“What are you doing?” Gong Yinzhe slammed the table, standing up with a dark face. “Are you rebelling?”

“If you say so!” Chen Bing narrowed his eyes, undeterred. “When rulers are unjust, officials defect; when fathers are unkind, sons flee. If you insist, we’ll just go over to the Southern China zone!”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?” Gong Yinzhe roared.

“And do you realize what you’re doing?” Chen Bing shouted back.

“Now, now, let's not get excited…” Zhang Chaowen quickly stood to smooth things over. “Aren’t we here to discuss solutions? The higher-ups must have their reasons. It’s not set in stone. Let’s calmly find a compromise…”

“What is there to discuss?” Chen Bing dismissed him. “You two are the capital’s special envoys. Report our stance to them: let them negotiate a compromise and then inform us. This meeting is over.” With that, he led the way out of the conference room, followed by a mass exodus of officials. Nearly no one remained, except for three or four representatives from the capital, who sat awkwardly in the suddenly empty hall.

Once everyone had left, Gong Yinzhe leapt up, smashing his teacup onto the floor. “No respect for nation or organization. What are they planning, rebellion?” He had been parachuted in from above, only here six months, and was usually indulged by the mayor. He’d thought he controlled City C, but today he realized that the unassuming Chief Supervisor had influence far beyond his expectations—the events just now proved he’d been sidelined.

“Let it go…” Secretary Zhang sighed. “The capital went too far this time. Let’s report the outcome and await instructions.”

Gong Shaohua also sighed, slumping into his chair, his thoughts drifting home to the capital. He wondered if his own wayward son had returned, and if the old man at home had protected them.

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Outside City Hall, Guo Zhenghua paced anxiously. When he saw Mayor Chen leading the officials out, he started forward, but noticed the governor and deputy governor were absent. Sensitive to the situation, he decided to stay discreet and moved aside.

As the crowd passed, he dialed Chief Supervisor Xie Tianhua. Xie was his former superior—when Guo served as district administrative governor in Caiyun, he was only a detective squad captain, and Xie had promoted him.

“Hello, Zhenghua? How’s your situation?”

“It’s been handled. I wanted to report to you.”

Xie Tianhua smiled. By protocol, Guo should report to the City Public Security Bureau, and then to the judicial supervisor—not directly to him. But he knew Guo’s character well; usually very rigid, so today’s approach signaled something was up. He guessed as much and replied quietly, “Don’t talk on the phone. Come to my house.”

Guo replied quietly, “Alright.”

Half an hour later, they met at Xie Tianhua’s home in the city’s residential compound, not far from City Hall. Xie’s wife was at work, so his daughter, Xie Xiaoqin, received them.

After brewing tea for them, Xiaoqin sensibly retreated to her room. Guo Zhenghua smiled, “Time flies. Xiaoqin’s grown so much—she finished her college entrance exam, right? What score, which university?”

Xie Tianhua’s lips curled with pride, “Six hundred forty-one. She applied to Yan Hua University’s Law School. With that score, she shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“That’s impressive—far better than my boy!”

“Well, achievement isn’t all about prestigious schools. Academic excellence isn’t the sole measure of future success. Your son is quite extraordinary himself…”

Guo Zhenghua’s expression sharpened—his old leader’s comments seemed to hint at something.

Xie Tianhua didn’t linger on the topic, but asked, “So, how did things go over there?”

“The suspect was eliminated. The body’s been taken to Caiyun District morgue.”

“What? Eliminated?” Xie nearly spilled his tea, surprised. “Tell me how it happened!” After all, since the incident began, neither City C nor the entire Federation had managed to capture or eliminate a returning player—this was a significant breakthrough.

“Yes,” Guo Zhenghua replied solemnly, detailing the events, though omitting some specifics.

“You’re saying a young man from your armed police team suddenly appeared and killed the target bare-handed?” Xie Tianhua smiled at Guo Zhenghua.

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Guo replied, “He used a military knife, not bare hands.”

“Heh!” Xie chuckled. “Which unit was this comrade from?”

“Afterwards, we discovered a team member had been knocked out and his uniform stolen. The man wasn’t actually from our squad, probably just a passerby acting bravely…” Guo replied nervously.

“Oh, a Batman?” Xie teased. “You’re really gilding your son’s reputation.”

“Uh…” Guo stood abruptly, shocked. “Mayor Xie, don’t joke about this!” He was stunned—how had Xie guessed so quickly?

“Come off it!” Xie rolled his eyes. “You came to report to me out of the blue—aren’t you trying to get a hint from me?”

Guo Zhenghua fell silent for a long time before finally replying in a low voice, “Just from that, you deduced it was my son?”

“Not entirely,” Xie said, amused by his old subordinate’s nervousness. He continued honestly, “My son Xiaolin saw your boy this afternoon.”

“Hm?” Guo’s eyes lit up, instantly understanding. “Your son?”

“Yes, he bought a private game pod and came home around three o’clock.”

Guo grew excited—his earlier gloom lifted as if he’d found his tribe. His old leader was in the same boat: both had children who’d returned. They shared a knowing smile, feeling like allies; Guo’s mood improved greatly.

“So, today’s meeting?” Now comfortable, Guo asked directly.

“Not optimistic,” Xie’s face darkened. He slowly recounted the meeting’s events…

Bang! Guo slammed the table and stood, agitated. “What are they thinking? What about human rights? What about lives?”

“Ah!” Xie Tianhua sighed. With his political insight, he saw this as only a preliminary probe from above—not a real ultimatum, just testing boundaries. The situation was complex: most who could afford game pods came from wealthy families, not only rich but also from powerful clans with generations of influence. Did they really expect everyone to hand over their children?

But, on the other hand, if such immense individual power fell into private hands, the future landscape would change drastically. The government wanted to maintain control.

The era was about to change. Listening to his son’s account of the game pod, Xie Tianhua immediately realized the gravity of the situation—world-scale upheaval was coming, and these players would be its protagonists, the foundation of their families.

With this in mind, he looked at Guo Zhenghua more kindly. If Guo’s son had successfully returned, he was among the future’s main actors, with the potential to rise. Visionary Xie Tianhua made a silent decision.

“Chief!” After his outburst, Guo Zhenghua asked heavily, “What should we do? The government’s orders…”

“Forget the orders. Are you really going to let them dissect your child? Are you out of your mind?”

“Of course not!” Guo laughed. “I mean—how do we respond?”

“Wait and see… The state shouldn’t go to extremes,” Xie shook his head. “Enough of these worries. By the way, your boy Lang still doesn’t have a girlfriend, right?”

“Huh?” Guo was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.

“Xiaoqin’s birthday is tomorrow. The city’s busy, and I can’t celebrate with her. Why not let the young people gather together?”

Guo finally understood and was delighted—Xie clearly favored his son. His boy had been wayward for years, but now suddenly valued, Guo felt unexpectedly honored.

“Yes, young people have more in common. If we old folks spend their birthday with them, they might not be pleased.” Guo cooperated, “Alright, I’ll tell my boy to make sure he takes care of your daughter tomorrow.”

“Hey, don’t say ‘take care’—sounds so formal. Young people should spend time together…” Seeing Guo so receptive, Xie’s expression grew even warmer.