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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 6: The Hooked Bait and the Silent Scream
I crawled back to my "fortress-like" studio, using both hands and feet. Once the door was shut tight and locked, I pushed every movable piece of junk—chairs, an empty bucket—against it. Then I slumped down along the door, sliding to the cold floor like a marionette with its strings cut, my lungs burning as I gasped for air.
My heart was still pounding, thumping against my ribs painfully. My clothes, soaked with cold sweat, clung to my skin, making me feel both cold and clammy, an indescribable discomfort. The scratches on my arms from the poisonous vines began to itch, but I had no mind to care.
In my head, like a stuck tape, the same scene replayed over and over: the pitch-black window on the second floor of the abandoned factory, and that swift white figure that was almost impossible to capture.
Xiao Ya?
Was it really her? Could I be a hundred percent sure? I dared not say. But that possibility felt like an ice pick driving deep into my nerves.
If it was her, what was she doing in that hellhole? Kidnapped? Imprisoned? Or was she… like me, executing that nonsensical “Mind Refinement Task”? She looked… in bad shape.
If it wasn’t her… then who? Another member of the Lighthouse Society? An “examiner” responsible for surveillance? Or just some unfortunate wanderer who happened to be there?
Countless questions buzzed around in my mind like a swarm of flies, making me dizzy. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to recall more details, but that image was as blurry as if it had been splashed with acid, leaving only a hauntingly pale outline.
Damn it!
I cursed inwardly. This agonizing feeling of helplessness was worse than having a gun pointed at my head!
No, I couldn’t just lie here. The task wasn’t finished; the photos hadn’t been submitted.
I braced myself against the wall and struggled to stand up, my legs trembling uncontrollably. I rushed into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on my face repeatedly, trying to wash away the bone-deep chill and fear. The reflection in the mirror showed a face as pale as paper; bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep and fright; lips dry and peeling. With this appearance, one could easily believe I had just escaped from a crime scene.
I pulled out the camera that had saved me from my backpack; my fingers still felt somewhat uncooperative. Connecting it to the computer, I imported the photos.
I had a total of five photos, each taken from different angles, capturing that ghostly symbol clearly. I opened the images, zoomed in, and examined every pixel like an obsessive compulsive.
The mark itself was deeply engraved, the fresh powder around its edges indicating it was made not long ago. Was it set up by the Lighthouse Society in advance? Or was it carved by Xiao Ya? If it was her doing, what was she trying to convey?
My gaze finally settled on a small cross scratch next to the mark, one that could easily be overlooked.
I maximized the photo to its fullest extent, the pixels on the screen starting to blur. This cross was indeed very small and shallowly etched; it didn’t look like it was made with a knife but rather hurriedly scratched with a fingernail or something similar. The most bizarre part was that the lower half of the vertical line of the cross showed clear signs of being rubbed or attempted to be erased, becoming indistinct.
What did this mean?
An accidental scratch? That seemed unlikely given its peculiar position.
Was it a distress signal left by Xiao Ya? The “ten” symbol does represent urgency or danger in certain contexts. But why erase half of it? Was there not enough time? Or was it intentionally erased to convey a more complex message? Perhaps “danger averted”? Or “plan aborted”? Was this some kind of riddle directed at me?
Or… could it be that this isn’t even a “ten”? When viewed alongside the main mark, does it represent something else? A coordinate? A part of a map? I recalled that both Xiao Ya and Tian's Father were researchers; could this be some special technical symbol from their field?
I tried to connect this thought with previous clues. The act of erasing… just like those burned papers in Xiao Ya’s room, all attempts to hide or destroy traces. Had she discovered some secret of the Lighthouse Society and was using this extremely subtle method to convey information while being terrified of being found out?
Or perhaps this was merely another test from the Lighthouse Society? An information interference tactic to see if I would overanalyze or simply overlook it?
Damn! I felt like my CPU was about to fry. The clues lay before me but felt obscured by frosted glass, hazy and elusive, making it hard to grasp the essence.
Forget it; thinking any further would just be a waste of time. I needed to submit something first and see what the Inceptor had to say.
I located the encrypted upload tool in the email attachment and double-clicked to run it. A black command line window popped up without any UI. Following the prompts, I dragged the photo file into it and entered the one-time upload code provided in the email.
I pressed Enter.
The screen began to scroll rapidly with a stream of code that I couldn't understand at all, reminiscent of the special effects in hacker movies. I nervously stared at the screen, silently praying that this wasn't some Trojan virus that would also send my bank card password along with it.
A few minutes later, the screen displayed: “Data Packet sent, channel self-destructing.” The black window vanished in an instant, as if it had never existed.
The task… was submitted.
I let out a long breath, feeling my taut nerves relax just a little. Slumping back in my chair, I pulled out my last crumpled cigarette and lit it. As the smoke curled around me, I began to contemplate my next move.
I was waiting for a reply from “Inceptor.” How would he evaluate my “assignment”? What score would he give me? Would he mention that “newcomer”? Would he assign me an even more twisted task?
Every second of waiting felt like torture in hot oil. After finishing my cigarette, I downed a large cup of instant coffee; the bitter liquid slid down my throat but did nothing to quell the anxiety brewing inside me.
Should I take the risk and contact Old K again? Casually ask him if he had discovered anything else from those recovered data fragments besides what I had seen? Or could he help me analyze the technical background of this “Lighthouse Society”?
I picked up my phone and then set it back down. No, it wouldn’t work. Old K was all about money, and asking him one more question could cost me. Besides, frequent contact might expose my intentions and drag him into trouble. Though he had a foul mouth, his skills were invaluable; I couldn't afford to lose him easily.
I started to ponder that I couldn't always be so passive. Being led by the nose would eventually lead to disaster. “Mutual calibration”? It sounded disgusting, but perhaps… perhaps it was an opportunity? An opportunity to approach that suspected Xiao Ya “newcomer” under legitimate pretenses? Or even… a chance to find her? And what was that “qualification review” all about? I needed to understand their operational rules, find a way to break through their game, or at least discover a method for self-preservation.
Just as I was lost in thought, nearly driving myself mad, the computer screen lit up again.
It was that encrypted email! A new message!
I jolted upright, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. The sender was still garbled text, and the subject read: “The First Echo.”
I opened the email, adrenaline surging through me.
Inceptor: Coordinate parameters received. The imprint capture is precise, and the environmental reference is valid. You completed the task within the stipulated time, and your execution efficiency meets expectations. It seems that the external noise did not cause substantial interference to your core Frequency. The preliminary tuning is complete.
Seeing these lines, my anxious heart eased slightly. Damn it, I finally passed. It wasn't easy. "Efficiency meets expectations"? I nearly lost my life in that hellhole for such a bland remark?
But I had no time to complain, as the next lines plunged my heart back into icy depths:
Inceptor: However, remember, this is just the first step in calibrating Frequency. The real challenge lies in interpreting the information flow and reshaping your cognitive framework. You have touched the "imprint," but do you understand why it appeared there? You recorded the "scenery," but do you perceive the hidden energy flow within it?
What is he talking about?! Why did the imprint appear there? Hidden energy flow in the scenery? Damn it! He really knows something! Does he know about that cross-shaped scratch? Or… does he actually know I saw a shadow at the window?!
A bone-chilling dread swept over me in an instant. I felt like a hairless monkey under a spotlight, exposed and defenseless.
The email continued, carrying a condescending tone of "guidance":
Inceptor: No need to panic. Confusion is a natural phase before a "system upgrade." You still need deeper resonance at the same frequency. Regarding that exceptionally talented New Pathfinder... she seems to have triggered some old, restrictive 'Firewall' while attempting to interpret certain 'heritage' Core Code, resulting in unnecessary 'Cognitive Redundancy'. This is dangerous and could lead to 'system' instability. Perhaps, in the upcoming Mind Refinement Task, you will have a chance for… cognitive cross-validation. Of course, this is contingent upon your ability to pass the next phase of 'information processing bandwidth' and 'environmental adaptability' assessments.
“Firewall”? “Cognitive Redundancy”? “Cognitive cross-validation”?
What kind of nonsense are these lunatics talking about?!
But peeling away these pretentious terms, I understood the underlying message: that girl was being disobedient! While trying to crack what Tian's Father left behind, she might have discovered something they feared and started questioning or resisting! And they want me—or plan to use me—to "correct" her?!
Damn! A wave of nausea, anger, and extreme worry surged through me, making my vision blur! They want me to deal with Xiao Ya! In their dreams!
"Qualification review"? Damn the assessment! I'm out!
The moment that thought crossed my mind, it was brutally shattered by the pale, indistinct figure at the window. No! I can't back down! If I let go now, Xiao Ya will be truly helpless! She's fallen into the hands of these madmen who treat human lives like weeds, and the consequences would be unimaginable!
I have to stay! Even if hell lies ahead, I must charge in and pull her out!
Inceptor: Patience is a fundamental quality of a Pathfinder. New directives will be issued when entropy reaches a critical point. In the meantime, purify your information reception channels and enhance your cognitive processing power. Remember, only by transcending the noise can you hear the whispers of the universe. The lighthouse is with the pure explorer.
The email ended. That last line, "The lighthouse is with the pure explorer," sounded so hypocritical it made me want to vomit.
I stared at the screen, feeling a chill run through me.
I was completely tied to this pirate ship. Every step could be a trap; every time I "passed" meant getting closer to the abyss.
What’s next? That mysterious "assessment" whose content is anyone's guess? Or perhaps a more direct and dangerous task?
Xiao Ya... what exactly is her so-called "Cognitive Redundancy"? Is she safe right now? Is she also trying to convey information to the outside world in some way?
I opened that photo again, zoomed in, and zoomed in further, fixating on the small cross that had been half-erased.
Did she really leave this behind?
What is it trying to tell me?
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