Chapter Twenty-Six: The Puzzle Game

Inside the safe house, the air seemed to have frozen.

Lin Feng’s remark about the “incomplete puzzle” settled over them like a boulder, heavy and unyielding, pressing down on their hearts.

The fierce confrontation that had just exploded between them—born of clashing worldviews, threatening to rip the small room asunder—now seemed almost laughable, pale and absurd in the face of this far more terrifying truth.

They were like two sailors trapped within a sinking compartment, still arguing over which hole to plug first, oblivious to the fact that the real tsunami had only just begun to rise.

Silence.

A silence as absolute as death.

At last, it was Xiao Ran who broke the deadlock.

She didn’t apologize, nor did she launch into another lecture about “protocol” or “discipline.” Instead, she moved quietly to the first aid kit in the corner, took out an unopened bottle of mineral water and a packet of compressed biscuits.

She placed them gently on the coffee table before Lin Feng.

Then, in a voice stripped of any emotion—purely businesslike—she spoke:

“Right now, we’re not National Security and Hacker. We’re not inside or outside the system.”

“We are two sorry souls who happen to know exactly when the world will end.”

“So—tell me your thoughts.”

This subtle olive branch allowed Lin Feng’s taut, anger-bound nerves to slowly unwind.

He glanced at the bottle of water, then at Xiao Ran’s face—still cold, but with a new gravity in her eyes.

He knew this woman—stubborn as a stone, perhaps, but no fool.

“My thoughts?” Lin Feng unscrewed the water bottle and took a long, bracing swig. The cool liquid soothed his throat, raw from shouting.

“My thoughts are simple.”

He stood up and, with one sweeping gesture, brushed everything off the coffee table onto the floor.

Then he set his tablet in the now-clear space, projecting the waveform of the audio recording onto the pristine wall opposite.

“Anderson is an artist. A… criminal artist.”

“He relishes ritual, craves control, and above all, delights in watching his prey walk step by agonizing step toward death across the stage he’s so meticulously prepared.”

As he spoke, he began placing every clue he’d salvaged from the “Data Core,” the “Prometheus” system, and last night’s terminal server, one by one, like puzzle pieces, onto the wall.

Xiao Ran joined him.

She no longer mentioned “reporting up the chain.” She understood that, until Lin Feng produced more compelling evidence, any talk of procedure was pointless.

She added to the wall every statement she’d extracted from “the Fisherman,” “the Butcher,” and Li Mo, as well as all the intelligence her team had previously analyzed—writing key words on sticky notes and posting them up.

Soon, the once-blank wall became an enormous warboard, covered with photos, notes, and relationship diagrams.

A final, decisive brainstorming session—a battle for the future, with only two participants—had begun in this isolated safe house.

…

“The first thread: the technical line.” Lin Feng pointed at the sticky notes scrawled with code and jargon, his gaze sharp as a scalpel.

“I’m calling ‘that thing’—for now—‘Pandora.’ Three things we know: First, it’s a ‘zero-day exploit’ program capable of indiscriminately infecting any phone. Second, its origin points to Israel’s ‘NSO Group’—the world’s most elite manufacturer of military-grade cyberweapons. Third, and most crucial…”

He tapped the words “zero-day exploit.”

“…A ‘cyber nuke’ of this scale is inherently unstable. Like a highly radioactive element, once exposed to the public internet, it’s liable to be detected at any moment by foreign security agencies. So, it would never be delivered online. The risk is far too great.”

He looked Xiao Ran straight in the eye, enunciating each word:

“The only possibility is physical delivery.”

“The carrier could be a USB stick, a hard drive, or even… a disguised chip.”

Xiao Ran’s pupils contracted sharply!

Immediately, her gaze moved to another section of the wall—her domain, the “human behavioral line.”

“The second thread: the behavioral pattern,” she said, her voice as calm and professional as his. “Anderson’s movements and the keywords we’ve gathered so far boil down to four: ‘Summit,’ ‘Messenger,’ ‘Reckoning,’ and ‘Sacrifice.’”

“Anderson is supremely arrogant, even narcissistic. Everything he does is suffused with drama and ritual. He called last night’s trap a ‘party.’ So…”

Her finger landed on the word “Summit.”

“…To him, this summit—gathering every financial giant on earth—is the perfect altar to display his ‘masterpiece’.”

“And ‘sacrifice,’” she continued, her gaze deepening, “in many ancient rituals, doesn’t refer to murder. Rather, it’s the offering made to the devil to seal a pact.”

“In other words—it could be a transaction.”

The technical line.

The human line.

Two seemingly parallel threads, now converging ever closer.

But not quite touching.

Something was missing—the final link to truly connect them.

What was it?

The safe house fell silent once more, save for their ragged breathing and the distant, gathering wind and rain beyond the window.

Suddenly, inspiration struck Xiao Ran like a bolt of lightning.

She dashed to the wall, rifling through a stack of seemingly irrelevant documents, and pulled out a file.

It was… the detailed list of summit attendees!

“I missed something!” Her voice trembled with excitement. “I focused only on the big players from Europe and America. But I overlooked… a completely inconspicuous delegation!”

She slapped the list onto the wall.

There, clear as day:

[Israel—Tel Aviv Innovation Technology Investment Delegation]

“Israel…” Lin Feng’s eyes lit up instantly!

He immediately spoke into his smartwatch.

“‘Mouse!’ Hack into the background of every member of this delegation—now! Priority one: anyone with ties to the ‘NSO Group’!”

“Roger, boss!”

Seconds ticked by.

…

“Bingo, boss! Found it!”

A photograph and résumé flickered onto the center of the wall.

The photo showed a mild-mannered, bespectacled middle-aged man.

His résumé made both Lin Feng and Xiao Ran suck in a cold breath.

[Doron Shavit. Current: Deputy Minister, Tel Aviv Innovation Technology Investment Office. Former: NSO Group, ‘Pegasus’ Project, Chief Technology Officer!]

“Pegasus”—NSO Group’s most notorious spyware, infamous for its ability to infiltrate any mobile phone on earth!

In that instant, every clue clicked perfectly into place.

Lin Feng and Xiao Ran locked eyes.

They saw the same things reflected there—shock, horror, and a dawning, wild elation.

They all but shouted the final answer together—

“The physical ‘Messenger’!”

“The sacrificial ‘offering’!”

“‘That thing’ is at the summit—right now!”

“The exchange is happening under our very noses!”

…

The truth was laid bare.

No more arguments, no more divisions remained in the safe house.

Only a newfound, grave, and unshakable resolve to fight.

Xiao Ran reached for the encrypted red telephone and dialed Director Wang’s number.

Lin Feng donned his cyberpunk VR glasses, preparing to launch an even deeper, pixel-level scan and infiltration of the summit’s entire network.

“Director Wang.” Xiao Ran’s voice was absolute, leaving no room for doubt.

“I need you to deploy all our authority—immediately.”

“We must search every member of the Israeli delegation, their luggage, and their hotel rooms.”

Director Wang’s grave voice came through the line: “Xiao Ran, do you realize the repercussions? This could spark a diplomatic incident! Do you have any direct evidence?”

“Yes.” Xiao Ran’s reply was terrifyingly calm. “I have no direct evidence.”

She turned to the man beside her, already immersed in the data stream—radiating an almost divine aura.

Her gaze was unwavering—filled with trust and certainty.

“My only evidence is…”

“…my partner.”