Chapter Four: The Lowest-Cost Death

Song Ci let them through the door, but she did not lower the gun. The room behind the gray wall was barely ten square meters. Four racks of old servers stood immersed in transparent coolant. Silver-gray particles turned slowly in the current, like snow trapped inside a glass cabinet. There was no Chengjian logo anywhere, only a mechanical clock. Before its second hand completed each tick, the indicator lights flashed. Thirteen milliseconds early. Gu Yan placed his phone on the floor without turning it off. The countdown continued to fall. “Prove you didn't write this one,” he said. Song Ci took a paper duty ledger from inside her uniform.