Chapter Seven: The Masquerade Ball

When Anderson’s face, wearing that trademark polite smile, appeared with perfect clarity on the main screen of the Shadow Bureau’s command center, it was as if the very air in the office had been sucked away.

Xiao Ran looked at that name—Orion Capital—and then at Lin Feng’s face, drained of all color by exhaustion. In that instant, she understood. The nightmare from five years ago, and the storm now looming over them, both sprang from the same hell.

“Begin full-spectrum surveillance on him immediately!” Xiao Ran’s voice was cold as a scalpel, slicing through the suffocating silence. “Phone calls, internet traffic, bank accounts, travel—every minute of his day, I want to know what he’s doing!”

The order was executed without delay.

The immense and intricate machinery of National Security began to whirl at full speed around the name “Anderson.”

But an hour later, the answer Xiao Ran received was a bucket of ice water, frigid enough to numb the soul.

“Chief… it’s impossible.” The tech lead, Old K, ran over drenched in sweat, defeat written in every line of his face. “All our conventional tools are useless.”

“What do you mean?”

“All his public communications run through military-grade encrypted Iridium channels—we can’t crack them. His online activity is routed through a dynamic, untraceable dark web node. As for his bank accounts… cleaner than my own face!” There was a trace of despair in Old K’s voice. “Chief, this Anderson… he’s like a ghost living in a data vacuum! We can see him, but he’s utterly beyond our reach!”

The tiny spark of hope that had just ignited in the command center was snuffed out in an instant.

Everyone sank into silence.

Only now did they fully understand the gravity Lin Feng had shown earlier. Their adversary was a master of counterintelligence—a god in his own right.

“All the usual paths are dead ends.”

A lazy voice broke the heavy silence.

Lin Feng, at some point, had emerged from his “doghouse.” He was leaning against Xiao Ran’s desk, a bottle of iced energy drink in hand, watching Anderson’s false smile on the screen.

“Then there’s only one way…” He paused, a wild gleam in his eye. “…We go off the beaten path.”

He drained the bottle and tossed it, hitting the trash can across the room dead-on.

“We can’t break through his defenses from the outside. So we have to find a way to plant a ‘bug’ on him from the inside.”

His words made every elite agent in the room look up in shock.

“Are you out of your mind?” Old K burst out. “That’s Anderson! Getting close to him is suicide! And it’s a serious violation!”

“He’s right, Chief Xiao—we’re National Security, not spies! We can’t use those methods!” another agent immediately chimed in.

“Rules? Procedures?” Lin Feng laughed, as if hearing the world’s best joke, his gaze sweeping the room of agents brimming with righteous indignation. “Your rules are good for catching minnows like the ‘Fisherman.’ But right now, you’re up against a deep-sea shark! Are you going to jump in with a copy of the Criminal Code and read him his rights?”

His words were harsh, but each word struck home.

“By the time you get all your official authorizations and a court warrant,” he pointed at the screen, “Huaxin Technologies will have been picked clean by that shark—bones and all!”

“Lin Feng!” Xiao Ran’s voice cut coldly through his tirade. “Watch your language! This is the National Security Bureau!”

“Am I wrong?” Lin Feng met her gaze without flinching. “Chief Xiao, tell me—using your proper procedures, how much confidence do you have in getting direct evidence to nail him before he destroys Huaxin? Ten percent? Five?”

Xiao Ran fell silent.

She knew—the answer was zero.

The agents in the room barely dared to breathe as the two continued their fierce argument.

At that moment, an intelligence officer hurried in and handed Xiao Ran a piece of urgent information.

“Chief! Just in—Anderson will attend a closed-door private reception tonight at 8:30, hosted by the Innovation Alliance at One Bund Club. Security level A+, and… it’s his only public non-business appearance for the next month!”

The news struck the office like a match tossed into a barrel of dynamite.

Their only chance!

All eyes instinctively turned to Lin Feng.

Xiao Ran stared at the intelligence report, caught in a war between principles and necessity like never before.

On one side were the rules and procedures she had upheld for half her life.

On the other, the cruel reality that mocked her at every turn.

In the end, she slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, only resolve remained.

“Lin Feng.” Her voice was hoarse. “What is your ‘bug’?”

…

Half an hour later, a product demonstration bordering on the surreal played out in the Shadow Bureau’s office.

Lin Feng didn’t conjure a set of ready-made spy gadgets from his pocket. Instead, he opened an encrypted drive and projected its contents onto the main screen.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please have a look.” Adopting the lively tone of a TV shopping host, he began his colorful introduction.

“This is my ‘high-fidelity mechanical fly,’ designed three years ago—Avenger-1. 4K HD, silent flight, can even collect DNA and trace explosives. Only downside: five-minute battery life and… a healthy fear of bug zappers.”

A 3D model of a fly appeared on screen, detailed down to each leg hair. The assembled agents stared, dumbfounded.

“And here, the ‘extra-strength mint-flavored laxative button,’ code-named ‘Withered Blossom.’ Polymer time-release tech—just drop it in his drink, and I guarantee he’ll have a lifelong aversion to mojitos.”

Xiao Ran’s temples began to throb.

“And finally, the ‘universal air conditioner remote’—codename ‘Fire and Ice’—”

“That’s enough!” Xiao Ran couldn’t take it any longer. She pointed at an inconspicuous schematic on the screen. “What’s that?”

“Oh, the ‘Digital Ghost.’ Sharp eye.” Instantly, Lin Feng shifted to a professional tone. “Developed years ago for a… special purpose. Never mass-produced. Stick it on his phone or any metal object, and it will silently copy all data streams. Only catch: it needs on-site microcode tuning for the target device, and I’m the only one who can do it. So…”

“So you have to go in person,” Xiao Ran finished for him, her eyes full of ‘I knew it’ disdain.

“Exactly!”

She stared him down for three seconds.

“Fine.” In the end, she relented. “Tonight, you’re a waiter.”

…

That night, One Bund Club glittered with light and gathered elites. The air was thick with expensive perfume, cigars, and the scent of money. Behind every smiling face lurked negotiations worth tens of millions.

Xiao Ran, in a perfectly tailored black off-shoulder evening gown, her hair swept up to reveal her elegant neck, floated through the crowd with a glass of champagne—a mermaid who had slipped into the darkness unnoticed. Her sharp eyes coolly surveyed every corner, quietly seizing control of the entire scene.

Meanwhile, our “ace directionally-challenged agent,” Lin Feng… was hopelessly lost.

Wearing a ridiculous waiter’s uniform and balancing a silver tray of empty glasses, he passed the same fountain sculpture for the third time.

“Damn… this place is a maze…” he muttered into his bowtie mic, exasperated.

Socially anxious, he found the fake smiles and small talk of the crowd unbearable. All he wanted was to find Anderson, finish the mission, and go home to his video games.

“Silence! Target at three o’clock, terrace area!” Xiao Ran’s ice-cold voice came through his earpiece.

Lin Feng jolted, looking toward three o’clock.

There, in the shadows of the terrace, Anderson stood with a glass of whiskey, murmuring to a silver-haired elder, flanked by two bodyguards built like towers.

“See those bodyguards?” Xiao Ran’s voice again. “Team A will draw them off. Team B creates a distraction. You’ll have a single chance—no more than three seconds.”

“Understood.” Lin Feng took a deep breath, palms sweating.

The plan began.

A Team A agent, disguised as a guest, “accidentally” bumped into one of the bodyguards, sparking a heated exchange that drew both bodyguards’ attention.

Simultaneously, Team B “accidentally” knocked over a champagne tower on the far side of the hall. The crash and guests’ screams drew nearly all eyes.

The perfect window opened.

Anderson too glanced toward the commotion, distracted.

Now!

Lin Feng strode quickly toward Anderson, tray in hand.

Just then—disaster struck.

A provocatively dressed internet celebrity burst out of nowhere, selfie stick in hand, blocking Lin Feng’s path.

“Mr. Anderson! I’m a huge fan! Can I get a photo with you?”

The sudden interruption froze Lin Feng in place.

The opportunity was slipping away!

“Plan B!” Xiao Ran’s decisive voice crackled in his ear.

Before Lin Feng could react, he saw Xiao Ran—now in her evening gown, carrying a crimson cocktail—walking straight toward Anderson.

She wore a smile of apology, but her steps seemed unsteady.

Bang.

A gentle collision. Xiao Ran “accidentally” bumped into Anderson, and her cocktail “just happened” to spill, staining his snow-white suit with a glaring red blotch.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her face a picture of perfect remorse and panic, immediately fetching her handkerchief to dab at his suit.

The scene descended into chaos.

Anderson’s attention was entirely consumed by this beautiful accident.

For Lin Feng, it was the final chance!

Playing the role of a frightened, clumsy waiter, he rushed over, crying, “Sir, are you okay? Let me help you!”

He reached Anderson’s other side, and as Anderson bent to inspect the stain, Lin Feng’s tray-bearing left hand brushed past his waist in apparent confusion.

With the speed of a dragonfly’s touch, his fingertips affixed the paper-thin “Digital Ghost” patch onto Anderson’s private phone—cold metal, now compromised—utterly unnoticed.

The whole operation was seamless—less than a second.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Anderson waved them off, face tinged with resignation but still perfectly courteous.

He looked at the “apologetic” Xiao Ran, then at the “panicked” Lin Feng, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes—so fleeting that no one could read it.

The mission was a success.

Lin Feng and Xiao Ran exchanged a glance, relief evident in both pairs of eyes.

Without lingering, they exited the party by separate routes as planned.

…

In the club’s underground car park, both slipped into a black sedan.

“Well done,” Xiao Ran said, watching the endless stream of data already pouring onto her laptop. For the first time, she offered Lin Feng something close to praise.

“Of course.” Lin Feng whistled, his cocky demeanor restored. “What did you expect?”

But at that moment, his grin froze.

Because at the club entrance, that figure appeared again.

Anderson—now in a spotless change of clothes. He hadn’t gotten into his car, but instead, smiling, carried three drinks as he headed straight for their inconspicuous black sedan, his assistant in tow.

How did he know?

“Don’t move! No one move!” Xiao Ran’s heart sank to the depths as she ordered every team member through her earpiece to stand down.

Anderson stopped at their window and rapped gently.

The window lowered slowly, revealing Xiao Ran’s carefully composed face—though inside, a tempest raged.

“Beautiful lady, you left in such a hurry. We never had that drink,” Anderson said, his smile flawless and unassailable.

He handed a glass to Xiao Ran.

Then, his gaze shifted past her to Lin Feng in the passenger seat, and he offered the second glass.

“And to this… very enthusiastic waiter.”

Both Xiao Ran and Lin Feng felt cold sweat drench their backs.

They were exposed.

Thoroughly exposed.

Anderson watched them accept the drinks, then leaned close to Xiao Ran’s ear, his tone intimate as a lover’s whisper, his Mandarin perfect and crystal clear:

“Miss Xiao…”

“…The scar on your wrist is quite distinctive.”

Boom.

The words exploded in Xiao Ran’s mind like thunder on a clear day.

She felt as if plunged into an icy abyss, her blood frozen in her veins.

He… he knew her identity.

He even knew about the history buried deep in her classified files.

Anderson gazed at her colorless face, satisfied, and smiled.

He straightened, raised his glass in a graceful salute, then turned and walked away, slipping into his car and vanishing into the night.

In the car, there was only deathly silence.

Lin Feng and Xiao Ran sat, holding those two glasses of what might as well have been wine from hell, their hearts sinking to the deepest fathoms.

Only now did they understand.

From beginning to end, they were never the hunters.

They were the prey, toyed with in the palm of another’s hand.