Chapter 2: Sigh! Prison & Capitalism

Good heavens.

It’s huge.

Lin Zhiyan stared at the magnificently luxurious scene before her in awe.

Beams of light poured down through the hollowed-out dome ceiling, while every passerby was dressed extravagantly.

On average, every three minutes, some group would burst into the kind of aged, wealthy laughter that sounded expensive.

She felt like every single one of them belonged either to some evil cult or a private s*ave island.

Dear God.

This was just the airport!

Carrying a sling bag and dragging a battered suitcase behind her, Lin Zhiyan stumbled awkwardly through the spacious terminal.

Even though the area was wide open, she still moved like a robotic vacuum avoiding walls and table legs, terrified she might accidentally knock over someone’s coffee and get forced to kneel in apology.

…Well, admittedly that kind of thing probably wouldn’t happen in real life.

But rich people were hard to predict!

Half observing and half remaining on guard, Lin Zhiyan only relaxed after finally leaving the airport.

Very good.

No embarrassment, no disasters, no accidents.

Everything had gone smoothly.

Which made sense.

What kind of accident could even happen?

She suddenly laughed at herself and her poor, shabby appearance.

Outside the airport, vehicles lined the intersecting transit tracks.

Even the taxis gleamed with pristine polish.

Far off in the sky, floating aerial cars drifted into the clouds, while blurred neon characters flickered before the technological control towers.

The technology here was far more advanced than District Sixteen’s.

Yet somehow it carried a sense of harmony untouched by technological excess.

Lin Zhiyan had no time to admire it further.

She was in a hurry.

After transferring through three underground buses, two elevated trains, and one shared low-altitude bicycle, she finally arrived at her destination—

The suburbs.

The opening ceremony was still three days away.

First, she needed somewhere to stay.

The place was packed with rail tracks of every kind, weaving through the sky at high, middle, and low altitudes in tangled knots like yarn.

The facilities looked old and worn.

Beneath the still-clear sky, neon signs blazed at maximum brightness along both sides of the road.

Stores stood shoulder-to-shoulder through the streets and alleys, but the lack of people made the area feel strangely deserted.

There were factories in the distance, though no visible crowds.

Lin Zhiyan found it somewhat surprising.

This was already considered one of the most remote suburbs in the Central District, yet even here the urban environment was still better than District Sixteen’s.

There weren’t random NPCs spawning with drunkenness, drug abuse, or infectious disease debuffs.

Nor were there roaming bosses engaged in flashing, robbery, or pickpocketing.

Your standards really need lowering.

She shook her head.

Opening the holographic map on her terminal, Lin Zhiyan followed the directions in search of a hotel.

After walking for a while, someone called out to her.

“Are you lost?”

She looked up.

A simple and shy-looking man stood outside a restaurant with his hands on his hips, watching her.

“I’ve seen you circle around several times already. Where are you trying to go?”

Lin Zhiyan smiled faintly but said nothing, continuing forward.

The man followed after her anyway.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a bad person. I work at one of the nearby factories, so I know all the roads around here. And…”

He hesitated briefly before asking,

“You’re from District Sixteen, right?”

Hearing that, she looked startled.

“How did you know?”

“I could tell from your clothes at a glance. That jacket is a District Sixteen school uniform. My daughter has one too.”

The man gave a bitter smile before asking again,

“Did you come here to find your parents?”

Lin Zhiyan suddenly understood.

He thought she was one of those kids who came to join their parents working in the city.

She shook her head.

“…You’re here alone?”

The man frowned, looking worried.

“Have you booked a hotel?”

Lin Zhiyan thought for a moment before shaking her head again.

“No. The hotels around here are the cheapest, but I wanted to check them out in person first and try bargaining.”

“Then you’re lucky you ran into me. I know this area really well.”

The man waved casually.

“I know a place that’s cheap. I can take you there. It’s not far.”

Lin Zhiyan looked genuinely surprised.

“Really?”

“We’re fellow townsfolk.”

“Then I really met a good person today. Thank you so much.”

Lin Zhiyan thanked him sincerely.

The man walked over and took the suitcase from her hand.

“Just follow me.”

The roads gradually became narrower, and the nearby shops grew increasingly sparse.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there. Just turn right ahead.”

As he spoke, he suddenly raised his voice and shouted,

“Look, it’s right there! Hurry over!”

Lin Zhiyan looked toward where he pointed, but only saw a few scattered storefronts.

“Where exactly is—”

Before she could finish speaking, the man abruptly spun around and shoved her arm hard toward a nearby alley.

A damp chill filled the long, old alleyway.

Darkness swallowed them instantly.

The man impatiently reached to grab her other arm—

But in that very instant, a burst of intense pain exploded through his skull.

He let out a shrill scream and staggered backward.

Warm crimson liquid sprayed from his head.

His mind went blank and his vision blurred.

The only thing he could make out was her standing before him, gripping an extendable baton.

Lin Zhiyan smiled cheerfully.

“Alright, now it’s my turn to play the bad guy.”

“Money. Hand it over.”

The man continued screaming incoherently in pain.

Blood drenched his entire face, mixing with tears and snot.

Lin Zhiyan got a little tired of the noise, so she switched the baton into electric shock mode and zapped him for several minutes before reaching into his clothes to pull out his terminal.

Then she pointed it at his face to unlock it and glanced through the contents.

…Only a few hundred credits in the balance.

So poor.

She transferred the money into her own account before pointing the terminal at him again.

“Come on. Nod your head, shake your head, blink.”

“Now say: one, two, three.”

A few minutes later, the terminal’s voice prompt sounded:

[Loan Application Failed]

[Reason: Credit score evaluation too low. Subject deemed incapable of repayment.]

Lin Zhiyan: “…”

What a loss.

Forget it.

Better think about cleanup now.

She pressed the button on the defensive baton.

It quickly collapsed into a tiny cylinder small enough to fit in her palm.

Then she stared thoughtfully at the unconscious man on the ground.

Logically speaking, if he dared bring her here, it meant this alley was a surveillance blind spot.

And logically speaking, people like him usually wouldn’t dare report getting robbed themselves.

But just because there were no floating cameras inside the alley didn’t mean there weren’t cameras outside it.

Besides, if he stayed unconscious too long, the factory workers nearby would eventually notice him after work and call the police.

…At this moment, she kind of hated how instinctively practiced her actions had been.

She hadn’t even considered that she was no longer in District Sixteen.

The dim yellow sky gradually faded, and even the evening glow grew dull.

The next afternoon.

Inside the police station, bright lights blazed overhead while ringing phones and overlapping conversations created a chaotic racket.

Soon, several figures hurried out from a deep office within the building.

People along the way continuously saluted and greeted them, but they paid no attention, walking straight toward the parking area.

Not long afterward, they returned.

Standing among them was a young man.

He carried his coat draped over one arm, his posture tall and straight.

His handsome features remained cold and stern as he listened to their reports.

Many people turned to look at him.

Not because of his appearance—

But because of his status.

The young man’s name was Jiang Yi.

His father had once served as a wartime commander and was now the Empire Military Headquarters’ Chief of General Staff.

His mother was a member of the Military-Political Committee.

As for Jiang Yi himself, despite his young age, he had already been exceptionally awarded a Knight’s Medal and held rank within the military.

“At present, none of the sixteen districts have produced any additional information.”

“We reconfirmed the signal source. The last recorded trace really was in District Seven.”

“We’re planning to purchase another batch of equipment specifically designed to track sub-links.”

…

“So in other words, there’s been no progress whatsoever?”

Jiang Yi looked at them.

“…You could say that.”

the police executive replied.

Jiang Yi raised a brow.

“You pulled me out of military exercises just to tell me this?”

The words sounded almost joking.

But the pressure behind them was unmistakable.

For a moment, the atmosphere turned tense.

“No, no, no, actually—we do have a research project…”

Another executive paused before speaking carefully.

“Our technical department is preparing new research on the tracker itself, and we also plan to introduce foreign technology. We’d like to explain the details to you.”

Jiang Yi nodded.

“Alright.”

The police personnel all visibly relaxed and quickly guided Jiang Yi toward the conference room.

On the holographic screen, the tracker was continuously dismantled layer by layer while rows of principles and cost analyses appeared.

Soon, the image froze on a brilliantly colored gemstone necklace.

The projection disappeared.

The presenter looked toward Jiang Yi and said,

“This is the technology we plan to invest in researching.”

Jiang Yi nodded again.

“I’ll relay it.”

One of the police executives lowered his voice.

“Then regarding the funding…”

Jiang Yi stood and walked toward the door.

“They’ll allocate it.”

“I’ll be leaving now.”

Several executives immediately scrambled to their feet to escort him out.

But just as Jiang Yi reached the doorway, a police officer pushed the door open from outside and shouted simultaneously,

“Report! Emergency incident! Her records indicate she’s from United Milita—”

The officer froze halfway through the sentence upon seeing Jiang Yi’s face.

Startled, he looked suspiciously and uncertainly toward the executives behind him.

The executives immediately caught the look and barked,

“What are you panicking for? Report later.”

But Jiang Yi ignored them entirely and frowned.

“Her records indicate what?”

Before the officer could answer, Jiang Yi had already taken out his terminal.

“Case number.”

The officer froze, suddenly unsure what to do.

Fortunately, one executive immediately sensed something wrong and hurriedly said,

“Mr. Jiang, please rest assured. We absolutely won’t make things difficult for her, nor will we conduct any unfair investigation.”

“I have no interest in your assurances.”

Jiang Yi’s tone remained casual, but his sharp eyes were cold.

“But I assume you know that any issue involving a student of the United Military-Political Academy must first be reported to the school for internal review.”

“Transfer investigative authority to me immediately.”

The officer stared blankly for a moment before blurting out,

“But she’s already been determined innocent, so there’s no need—”

“Transfer it over.”

Jiang Yi said coldly.

…

Silence filled the room.

Eventually, after several authorization keys were approved, everyone watched Jiang Yi leave.

Only after his figure disappeared at the end of the hallway did the executives finally begin speaking again.

“I’m so sick of these pampered ancestors waving authority around over nothing.”

“The people from Military-Political are all like this. Obsessed with showing off their power.”

“She was practically about to be released already, and now she has to get investigated all over again. Such a pain in the ass.”

The officer kept his head lowered, terrified they’d notice he was still standing there after they finished trash-talking.

To be fair, the police criticism wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

As a directly military-affiliated academy, United Military-Political held enormous authority.

Structurally, the military and police were technically equal institutions.

But after suppressing the AI rebellion, the military had gained overwhelming influence.

Even after the nation shifted from imperial rule to constitutional monarchy, that power had never truly been weakened.

The police were still constantly being crushed under the military’s thumb.

Obviously, though, the police weren’t the only ones getting crushed right now.

So was Lin Zhiyan.

Lin Zhiyan genuinely felt like she’d run into a wall of ghosts.

The officer who questioned her earlier had clearly said she could probably leave soon.

But now someone else suddenly informed her she couldn’t leave after all because the questioning wasn’t finished.

Worse, every recording device had been turned off, and the doors and windows had all been tightly sealed.

They weren’t planning torture, were they?

No way, right?

…But what if they really were?

Then…

She’d confess everything immediately.

Lin Zhiyan had very little dignity.

She could tolerate the hardships of life just fine.

But physical suffering?

Absolutely not.

She couldn’t even endure skipping a single meal.

While she’d never stolen takeout before, she had once randomly approached strangers with a cheerful “Don’t you remember me?” before sitting down and eating with them.

While she was anxiously debating how best to beg for mercy if beaten, the door behind her finally turned with a click.

Lin Zhiyan turned around.

The first thing she saw wasn’t his face or even his legs.

It was his hands.

One hand rested in his trouser pocket.

The other held a file.

Blue-green veins lay hidden beneath pale skin, running from his forearm all the way to his knuckles.

Her gaze traveled upward along his arm.

Soon she saw his broad shoulders, the faint outline of muscle beneath his uniform, and the lean strength of his waist.

Only then did she look at his face.

How to describe it?

Very handsome.

Black hair, black eyes, high nose bridge, thin lips.

His chin was always slightly raised.

Exactly the sort of cold, untouchable, irritatingly attractive character every novel loved describing.

Lin Zhiyan found herself wondering whether he’d be just as annoying as those fictional types.

Like, would he start throwing around insults like “commoner” or “peasant” the moment he opened his mouth?

After all…

This guy was the one who’d descended at the airport yesterday and forced every passenger there into an hour-long prison sentence.

Reality, however, disappointed her.

He merely walked to the table, placed the file down, draped his coat over the back of the chair, and finally sat.

“Jiang Yi.”

Lin Zhiyan said,

“I’m—”

“I know who you are. I’ll read the file.”

Jiang Yi showed zero interest in her self-introduction.

“This interrogation will not use any recording devices, and an information jammer has already been activated.”

“Please honestly recount the entire incident from beginning to end.”

“Additionally, this case has been transferred to the independent investigation department of the Central Ringstar United Military-Political Academy.”

“As chairman of the Military-Political Faculty Self-Governance Committee, I will preside over the review on behalf of the academy.”

“If you are determined guilty, you will receive corresponding internal disciplinary action under the academy’s autonomy laws.”

“However, none of the relevant details will be formally recorded.”

Jiang Yi spoke clearly and unhurriedly.

Yet despite the calm pace, the lengthy speech carried an invisible pressure.

Lin Zhiyan took a long time processing it all.

She wasn’t sure whether to be more shocked that the academy had autonomous judicial authority, more shocked that the man before her was actually a fellow student, or more shocked that she hadn’t even started university yet and was already about to receive disciplinary punishment.

Jiang Yi paid no attention to her silence.

“Do you have any religious faith?”

Lin Zhiyan shook her head.

“Good.”

Jiang Yi’s tone remained indifferent.

“Then there’s no need to select a holy text for you to swear upon.”

He carried himself with the casual attitude of someone extremely busy and entirely in control of the situation.

Lin Zhiyan took a deep breath and recounted everything from start to finish.

“…That’s what happened. He said he’d guide me somewhere, but after walking a short distance, I started feeling uneasy. So I ran away.”

“Afterward, I found a hotel to stay in. The hotel owner told me that man was a notorious drifter, and I was lucky I escaped.”

“Then this afternoon, I received your call asking me to cooperate with the investigation.”

Jiang Yi tapped the table lightly with his finger.

“Why did you feel uneasy?”

Lin Zhiyan said nothing.

Instead, she bit her lip and looked at his neck.

He hadn’t fastened the top disciplinary button of his uniform.

Through the gap, pale skin and beautiful collarbones were faintly visible.

Her eyes drifted lower toward the chest muscles beneath his uniform.

Jiang Yi frowned.

“What are you doing?”

Only then did Lin Zhiyan look directly at him.

Her dark eyes were calm and clear.

“Why did I feel uneasy?”

Jiang Yi’s brows twitched.

Impatience surfaced across his cold face.

“Don’t play these pointless little games with me. This is an interrogation.”

“So you don’t like jokes.”

Lin Zhiyan looked genuinely innocent.

“And apparently, you don’t like telling the truth either.”

Jiang Yi shot back immediately.

He pressed a button on the desk, and a holographic video appeared between them.

It was surveillance footage from before and after the incident.

The first clip showed Lin Zhiyan walking ahead while the man followed behind her.

The second showed him leading her around a corner toward an alley.

The third showed Lin Zhiyan appearing at the other end of the alley, half her body visible as she struggled with someone inside over a backpack.

After snatching it back, she ran while angrily shouting behind her as though chasing someone off.

The video ended.

Lin Zhiyan looked at Jiang Yi.

“Is there a problem?”

Jiang Yi smiled faintly and paused the image on the scene of the bag struggle.

“It’s this scene that gave you your alibi proving you weren’t present during the assault.”

Lin Zhiyan remained silent.

“A clever strategy.”

“But you made one mistake.”

Jiang Yi brought up another photograph and pointed to a tear mark.

“I examined the damaged fabric on the backpack. Theoretically, when two people pull against each other, the woven fibers spread outward in opposite directions because there are two points of force.”

“But here, there’s only one direction of strain.”

“At minimum, that proves one thing.”

He lifted his eyes toward her.

“Either the person fighting you over the bag wasn’t exerting any force…”

“Or that person never existed.”

Lin Zhiyan slowly raised her gaze to meet his.

“So you’re saying I was performing alone?”

Jiang Yi displayed another photo—

This one of the alley wall.

Then he zoomed in repeatedly.

Pointing toward a decorative section of the wall, he said,

“I had people revisit the scene for additional evidence collection. We found residual fibers here.”

“Although I didn’t order laboratory analysis, I doubt the results will be surprising.”

He glanced at his wristwatch before looking back at her.

She sat calmly in the chair, but her tightly pressed lips betrayed subtle tension.

Her black hair fell quietly across her shoulders.

Her dark eyes lowered, as though flowing ink were slowly dripping down her body, creating a heavy, exhausted dampness around her.

“Will you confess yourself?”

“Or should I explain your method step by step for you?”

Jiang Yi leaned back into his chair.

His chin tilted upward while his eyes lowered toward the file.

Blue holographic light cast cold, rigid shadows across his face.

“The disciplinary outcome differs between the two.”

“Are you certain you wish to continue insisting otherwise?”

I take it back.

You really are exactly that kind of irritating character.

Lin Zhiyan thought while staring at his face.