Pretend to be crazy

Cloud Hotel, 18th and 19th floors, a total of 122 people were taken hostage.
Among them, 25 were hostages.

The Seventh District Guard Headquarters had already been overwhelmed with work, and now, with this new crisis, Chief Shu was practically fuming.

After confirming that the guests on these two floors were just ordinary people—none of those who could shake the entire Seven District with a mere stomp—Chief Shu relaxed significantly. He sent a batch of inexperienced rookies, dressed them up in seemingly elite gear, and pushed them out to handle the situation.

The newly formed Mobius group was different from before—they resembled traditional aristocrats, eager to establish communication with various federal departments.

In this process, Chief Shu made a fortune, assigning 150,000 of the Guard’s 220,000 personnel to serve the new Mobius.

With few officers left, if any other big shots needed help, he, as Chief, would step in personally.

So, dealing with such troublesome and complicated matters wasn’t something he needed to worry about.

Someone else would naturally take care of suppressing public opinion.

He lit a cigar, squinted his eyes, and happily considered which wife he should visit tonight.

Meanwhile…

The police reinforcements were speeding through the streets.

In a society that rejected and discriminated against cybernetic modifications, anyone wanting to enter the system had to keep their cybernetic enhancement below 10%.

Severe injuries requiring organ transplants or prosthetics demanded a pile of paperwork, just to ensure that receiving the implants wouldn’t get them expelled from the force.

But for Adlai, on his first mission, the excitement he had imagined was completely absent.

He was 22 years old.

Six months ago, through his school’s talent introduction policy, he leaped from being an ordinary student in District Ten to becoming a member of the Seventh Districts Guard—one of the least respected roles.

His father was shot dead.

His mother worked tirelessly to raise him, only to be murdered by criminals on the day his college entrance exam results were released.

Originally intending to become a lawyer, he changed all his applications to police academies.

He swore to make sure all crimes had nowhere to hide and that all who harmed the innocent would be punished.

Beside him, a slightly older, dark-skinned officer, Fang Cheng, sighed and patted his shoulder.

“Nervous?”

Adlai smiled, gripped his gun tighter, and shook his head, though his expression remained serious.

A cheerful, freckled young man with brown hair leaned in and threw an arm around his shoulder.

“Chief Shu is a slippery old fox. What kind of good job do you think he’d assign us? Just finish the report and come back quickly—this job isn’t worth dying for.”

Adlai subtly shrugged off Connie’s arm, effortlessly blending in with the group.

“A new bar just opened on Pretty Street. Want to grab a drink after work?”

“Hahaha! Of course! This time, I’ll make sure you crawl home!”

“Arrived.”

A soft female mechanical voice came through their earpieces:

“According to witnesses, the criminals have moved the hostages from the 18th floor to the rooftop and are waiting for extraction.”

“Due to the hotel’s security footage being destroyed, we are unable to upload detailed information about the suspects. Proceed with caution.”

Five police vehicles had been dispatched, each carrying eight officers—40 in total.

Ten were assigned to manage the onlookers.

Thirty went upstairs, leaving twenty-seven in the rooftop hallway, and only three officers to confront the criminals.

Among them was the young Adlai.

They placed their guns on the ground and raised their hands, signaling they were unarmed.

The tall leader, with mechanical eyes scanning them, sneered.

“If you don’t want to die, get lost.”

Fang Cheng: “Of course we don’t want to die. No one does, sir. Can we talk?”

“Scram!”

The leader fired a burst of bullets at Fang Cheng’s feet. The hostages cowered, trembling.

The leader smirked.

“If you step past this bullet line or say another word, not only will you die, but so will these hostages!”

Fang Cheng was silent for a few seconds before turning to Adlai and whispering:

“Adlai, what do we do?”

Among them, Adlai was the most educated. Fang Cheng, despite his seniority, had less expertise than this newly recruited officer.

Adlai took a deep breath, about to speak, when he noticed a young man with pale skin and a black wolf-tail hairstyle whispering something into the leader’s ear.

The leader’s gaze kept shifting between him and the young man.

Then, his expression darkened. He grabbed the young man’s neck and pressed him down hard.

The young man obediently lowered his head.

Satisfied, the leader locked eyes with Adlai and barked:

“Hey! You, come here!”

Adlai cautiously took a step forward.

The leader picked a hostage with significant cybernetic modifications and shoved them toward the police.

“One for one. Fair trade, right?”

Adlai: “I—”

“Shut up! Hands on your head!”

Under the worried gazes of his teammates, Adlai slowly walked forward, becoming one of the hostages.

The criminals had the advantage of numbers, better equipment, and hostages. Their identities were untraceable by headquarters, making negotiations difficult.

The best outcome would be rescuing everyone.

The worst—none.

The compromise, to satisfy the higher-ups, would be to open fire, saving whoever they could.

Most officers were thinking along those lines.

As the approaching extraction helicopter grew nearer, Fang Cheng finally lost patience and prepared to signal the officers in the hallway to advance.

Just then, the wolf-tailed young man suddenly spoke up:

“There are five wired bombs planted between the 40th and 45th floors. They’re linked to our life signs—if we die, they explode. The blast will level the rooftop.”

Hearing his voice, Adlai was briefly stunned.

A ruthless criminal shouldn’t have such a calm, melodic voice.

He looked up cautiously.

Against the blinding sunlight, the young man smiled and said:

“Officer, go ahead—shoot. Let’s play a game of blind boxes.”

“If you’re lucky, maybe none of them will go off.”

Ruan Zhixian was not in the habit of doing good deeds.

In all his crimes, only the destruction of the cult Divine Descent could be considered an exception.

In just three years, Divine Descent had swept through twelve districts, convincing countless believers to commit suicide in its name, disrupting social order, and even interfering in elections.

Ironically, it was ultimately eradicated by another criminal organization—one whose leader had a bounty exceeding a hundred billion.

When members of Divine Descent infiltrated Ruan Zhixian’s team and tried brainwashing key personnel, the cult’s fate was sealed.

Shen Yan pulled down his mask, set the gun aside, and let out a breath.

The interior of the airship was sleek and bright. The hostages were treated well the moment they boarded—first untied, then apologized to, and finally locked in a dark room to receive indoctrination.

Right now, the cult was still in its infancy, and recruitment methods were straightforward and brutal. The leader of this faction liked to use the “shock-then-kindness” method, exploiting the bridge effect. Their backers were from District One, and funding wasn’t an issue.

Staying by Ruan Zhixian’s side meant being placed in a carefully controlled environment under his watchful eye. If Shen Yan performed well, he’d be allowed to live a little longer. If not, he’d be disposed of.

It was exhausting—and dangerous.

Most of his false identities had already been stripped away. His trump cards were running out, and with Ruan Zhixian constantly watching, it was nearly impossible to take any special actions.

Even pretending to be a lunatic required some foundation to back it up. Just as he was wondering about his next move, the divine descent appeared.

So, he decided to give himself a break.

Since the cult had ties to District One, Ruan Zhixian assumed he had some ulterior motive and, being the type to enjoy watching from the sidelines, chose not to interfere for now.

The airship’s leisure area had everything. Shen Yan spent his time battling it out in a racing simulator against two other recruits—one skinny and one blond—making them both cry out in frustration.

After several rounds, the skinny one pulled off his VR helmet and massaged his temples. The blond guy also looked nauseous.

Shen Yan, unaffected, removed his helmet and unwrapped three peppermint candies—one for each of them.

The intense coolness shot straight down his throat.

He had been a little drowsy, but now he was wide awake. Seeing the other two wince from the overwhelming mintiness, he chuckled.

“Another round?” he asked.

The skinny guy waved his hand. “No, no, my brain’s about to turn into a smoothie.”

The blond one, still curious, asked, “Bro, which university did you graduate from? You’re crazy good—did you train for this?”

Shen Yan deadpanned, “Never went to school. Grew up picking up trash. Boohoo.”

They both laughed, and the blond one pressed further. “Come on, tell us the truth. You can’t seriously be a trash picker.”

“I really was.” Shen Yan sighed. “Then the environmental protection act passed, and I lost my job. I didn’t even book this hotel myself. Who would join a cult if they weren’t broke?”

“Then who was kind enough to book such a fancy place for you?”

Shen Yan made something up on the spot. “Some boss told me District Seven needed workers. Back then, I was so broke I couldn’t even afford nutrient packs. So, I pawned my kidney to a black-market doctor and signed up. But when I got smuggled over, I realized the boss was just another scumbag. Thought I looked decent and sold me off instead.”

“The hotel? Booked by the guy who bought me. If you guys hadn’t shown up, I’d be… well…”

He let out a long sigh, rubbed his eyes, and lowered his voice. “It’s just too damn hard to survive in this world.”

Neither of them had ever experienced this kind of hardship, but that last sentence hit home. Their eyes turned red.

The blond guy clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. The divine descent is a good place. Follow the boss, and the True God will protect us.”

“I think so too,” another voice chimed in.

A young man approached. He had been listening for a while and now crouched beside Shen Yan, extending a hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Adlai.”

Shen Yan shook his hand.

The blond and the skinny one eyed Adlai warily. “Why are you out so soon?”

Adlai tilted his head. “Why do you ask?” Then, as if realizing something, he laughed. “I’ve always been a quick learner. The introductory teachings were easy to grasp. Once I passed the assessment, they let me out.”

He clasped his hands in a peculiar gesture—left thumb on top, with the index and middle fingers of his right hand tucked between the same fingers of his left. His expression was devout.

“The True God protects. Eternal bliss awaits.”

The blond guy hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something but ultimately held back. He stood up with the skinny one. “Li, want to grab something to eat? Once we land, we might not get another chance.”

Shen Yan felt Adlai subtly pulling at him, so he shook his head. “You guys go ahead.”

Adlai took the blond guy’s seat, sitting cross-legged across from Shen Yan. “You were the one talking to that big guy earlier, right?”

Shen Yan nodded.

Adlai studied him intently. “You’re different from them.”

Shen Yan said nothing.

Adlai’s smile became more genuine. Then, suddenly, he switched topics. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“You don’t look it.” He rested his chin on his hand. “Are you lying to me, bro?”

The word bro immediately reminded Shen Yan of Ruan Zhixian, triggering his PTSD. He reflexively corrected, “Call me Li bro.”

“Li-bro,” Adlai repeated smoothly, his gaze sharp. “What did you tell the big guy? Did you really plant bombs in the hotel?”

Shen Yan smirked. “Nope. I don’t like killing people. Just made it up.”

Adlai was silent for a few seconds. “Li bro, where did you first hear about the divine descent?”

Before today, even District Seven’s intelligence archives hadn’t recorded those three words. Cross-district searches turned up nothing, and scouring the internet had yielded no traces.

It was as if the cult had appeared overnight.

And these people weren’t exactly impressive. Even their leader only looked fierce. In comparison, this young man full of nonsense was far more dangerous.

Li Yunze.

Obviously a fake name.

He was infiltrating the cult—but why?

Could he be an ally?

Adlai had already decided to claim the divine descent as part of his political legacy. Since Shen Yan wasn’t answering, he casually shifted the topic and picked up a VR helmet.

“Li bro, wanna play a few rounds?”

Shen Yan nodded and entered the game.

Playing against the future governor of District Seven.

Who would win?