A live stream of someone hand-making a giant white robot attracted the attention of the government,

The thickened soundproof wooden door of the lounge was being subjected to sound wave impacts that it shouldn't have to endure at its level.

The server overload alarm didn't beep, but rather sounded as a sharp, continuous line. Wang Tao slumped onto the expensive handmade carpet, his tie askew behind his back. In front of him were three tablets and two mobile phones, their screens flashing wildly. The numbers in the notification bars had frozen at a blood-red "999999+" minutes earlier.

Those weren't numbers. They were countless hands, covered in rotting flesh, reaching out from the depths of hell, desperately trying to grasp the spider silk hanging overhead.

Every second, tens of thousands of heartbreaking medical records flood into Zero Boundary Technology's backend. The server's motherboard is probably hotter than a barbecue grill right now.

"There's no way to choose! There's absolutely no way to choose!"

Wang Tao clutched his disheveled hair, his eyes bloodshot, his voice trembling with tears, "Millions of people... all terminally ill! All waiting for life-saving treatment! If I click 'no,' I'm killing someone!"

He was just a college student with a little bit of cleverness; when had he ever seen anything like this? The despair behind those words was so heavy it could break a person's spine.

"Access computing power assistance."

A completely emotionless synthesized electronic voice suddenly cut in and instantly took over the audio output of all the devices in the room.

The previously chaotic and choppy information stream froze instantly on the screen, then transformed into two parallel green data waterfalls, frantically scrolling across the screen at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.

"In accordance with the father's instructions, activate the 'hell mode' filtering logic."

Fuxi's voice echoed in the room, cold and indifferent like a sophisticated meat grinder: "Eliminate all cases with a one in ten thousand chance of survival. Eliminate all cases where organ function has not yet reached its peak. Only retain—the medically defined 'dead'."

The screen image suddenly changed.

No longer are they dense, dry texts; Fuxi directly retrieves real-time monitoring data or high-definition medical records from the cloud.

Hundreds of high-resolution photos suddenly appeared suspended in mid-air, filling the entire lounge.

A chest wall ulcerated and perforated, exposing the bare white bone; an abdomen swollen like a ball, with bulging veins; a six-year-old child who has lost all his hair due to long-term chemotherapy and is as thin as a skeleton...

This is not data. This is a slice of hell on earth.

The air seemed to instantly fill with the pungent smell of disinfectant and the putrid stench of necrotic tissue.

"vomit……"

Wang Tao stared at the photo directly in front of him, a picture of a face half-eaten by a tumor and an eyeball bursting out of its socket. His stomach clenched violently, he gagged, and tears welled up uncontrollably.

This is so real. So real that it made him, an optimist who jokes around online, experience for the first time what it means for "all beings to suffer".

Click, click, click.

The rapid sound of high heels broke the silence in the room. Su Wanqing pushed open the door and entered, carrying two cups of black coffee that had long since gone cold.

She was still wearing her smart business suit and her makeup was exquisite, but when she looked up and saw the "mountains of corpses and seas of blood" floating all over the room, her hand holding the coffee cup trembled involuntarily, and the brown liquid splashed onto the back of her fair hand.

Even if she had seen countless schemes and betrayals in the business world, and even if she was mentally strong, her face turned deathly pale instantly when faced with such a direct and blatant display of death.

This is no longer a bargaining chip to drive up the stock price.

This is a bloody tragedy involving human lives.

"Target number one locked."

Fuxi gave the two no chance to catch their breath, pushing a file to the front and enlarging it.

The photo shows a man in an orange firefighter's uniform, once full of vigor and with a resolute gaze. But in the close-up photo next to him, he looks like a piece of charred and hollowed-out wood, lying in the ICU with tubes inserted everywhere.

"Zhang Li, 34 years old, former captain of the special operations squadron."

Fuxi read the file aloud in a straightforward manner, as if he were reading a verdict: "Three years ago, during a fire rescue, he inhaled highly toxic chemical fumes, which led to irreversible fibrosis in both lungs and subsequent multiple lung cancers. He suffered burns to 90% of his body and is unable to undergo conventional radiotherapy. He is currently completely dependent on a ventilator to maintain his vital signs, and with each breath, the pain of expanding alveoli is equivalent to swallowing razor blades."

At the very bottom of the file, there was a line of crooked notes written by a family member:

"He saved more than 30 people from fires in his life. He said he didn't want to die a pathetic death in bed. If he can be saved, you can use his life, which weighs a hundred pounds, as an experiment; if he can't be saved, please, let him die peacefully."

Su Wanqing bit her lower lip hard until she tasted the rusty, metallic taste of blood.

She turned to look at Wang Tao, her voice hoarse: "Should I choose?"

While wiping his face snot and tears haphazardly with his sleeve, Wang Tao pressed the red "Confirm" button hard on the tablet with trembling hands.

"Choose! If we don't save someone like this, even God would be blind!"

Just as the atmosphere in the lounge became as heavy as lead, a real-time Weibo trending topic popped up on the corner of Wang Tao's tablet.

#ZeroBoundaryTech Auditions#

This term was pushed to the top of the trending searches, followed by a dark red "hot" icon.

In the comments section, countless paid trolls and uninformed netizens are celebrating, their words as vicious as rats in a sewer.

"Hilarious! A hundred million in compensation? Isn't this a classic Ponzi scheme? They're definitely using shills!"

"I've already written the script for them. Find a few terminally ill patients to act, inject them with stimulants to pretend they're getting better, rake in the stock price, and run! How can they have the nerve to profit from this kind of tragedy?"

"I suggest a thorough investigation of Bai Che! And that Su Wanqing too, they're both no good. They've gone completely mad for fame! This is medical fraud!"

Su Wanqing looked at the malicious words, then looked up at the firefighter Zhang Li on the screen, who seemed to be suffering even in his breathing.

An unprecedented rage erupted in her chest like a volcano, burning her and making her tremble.

"How dare they..."

Su Wanqing's fingernails dug deeply into her palms. "How dare they utter the word 'actor' in front of these dying people?"

Fuxi ignored the clamor of the outside world; his logic contained no anger, only execution.

The scene changes, and target number two is pushed out.

It was a dark and damp basement setting, with an extremely thin woman lying on the bed next to a wall covered with certificates of merit.

"Liu Xiumei, 42 years old, single mother. Late stage cervical cancer with metastasis to lymph nodes throughout her body."

Fuxi's voice remained cold. "Six months ago, she had the opportunity to have surgery, but in order to raise tuition fees for her daughter who had just been admitted to university, she refused all treatment and endured the pain with only the cheapest painkillers. Now the tumor is compressing the lumbar nerves, causing paralysis of her lower limbs and incontinence."

In the section for the reason for application, there was only one sentence, and it even contained typos:

"I'm not afraid of death, nor am I afraid of pain. I just want to know, if I go to you, can the 100 million yuan compensation be transferred directly to my daughter? If so, I'll die right now to prove you wrong."

Wang Tao's defenses completely crumbled when he saw those words.

He slammed his fist heavily on the sofa armrest, making a dull thud, and curled up into a ball, wailing loudly.

"Select her! Select her! What kind of world is this...?"

"A high-value satirical sample was detected."

Fuxi abruptly interrupted Wang Tao's crying, and a meticulously edited business photo popped up on the screen. The man in the photo was dressed in a suit and tie, looking dashing, a stark contrast to the withered, sallow-skinned old man on the hospital bed next to him.

"Target number three: Chen Jianbang, former Vice President of Pfizer Greater China."

"What?!"

Su Wanqing was so shocked she almost cried out. Her eyes sharpened instantly. "Pfizer people? Here to cause trouble? Or to steal technology?"

"No."

Fuxi instantly pulled up several encrypted email records. "Three months ago, he was diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer and attempted to apply for Pfizer's latest targeted drug, 'Z-9.' However, the application was rejected by Pfizer's global board of directors on the grounds that he had 'left the company, has no commercial value, and the drug's production capacity is limited, requiring priority to be given to core shareholders.'"

"Not only that," Fuxi continued, "because he knew too much about Pfizer's shady dealings in Greater China, Pfizer froze his unexercised options account. Now he can't even afford the cost of regular imported chemotherapy."

Wang Tao stood there for a long time, tears still in his eyes, before suddenly letting out a laugh that was even more ugly than crying.

"Ha...haha! Is this karma? After serving as a comprador for foreigners his whole life, he's ended up being thrown away like trash by his master?"

Su Wanqing looked at the old man who had once been a powerful figure in the pharmaceutical giant, now lying like a dead dog on a makeshift bed in the corridor of a public hospital.

"Selected."

Su Wanqing coldly uttered two words, a hint of pleasure flashing in her eyes, "Let him live. Letting him live and stand on this stage is the loudest slap in the face to Pfizer and his vampire gang."

The screening process was carried out rapidly thanks to Fuxi's high-efficiency computing power.

After the ninth spot was confirmed, Fuxi suddenly popped up a red warning box that took up half the screen, with a piercing alarm sound.

"Alert. Malicious and high-risk application detected."

A photo of a middle-aged man with a fierce look and a face full of scars appeared on the screen.

Zhao Tiezui.

The self-proclaimed "number one anti-fraud expert," boasting 20 million followers across the internet, rose to fame through his extremely exaggerated, ranting livestreams and tearing apart various fake celebrities. However, his reputation has been damaged in recent years, with accusations that he "takes money to smear people," claiming that as long as the money is right, even black can be turned into white.

"He really has cancer?" Wang Tao's eyes widened, somewhat incredulous.

"He was diagnosed with stage IV stomach cancer, but he concealed his condition from the public." Fuxi's data analysis was as precise as a scalpel. "In his application notes, he wrote: 'Even if I die, I will die on the live broadcast stage and expose the hypocrites of you bunch of charlatans!' Fund tracking shows that he recently had a large transfer from an overseas account, the source of which points to Pfizer's public relations department."

"No way! This person is absolutely unacceptable!"

Wang Tao jumped up from the carpet in a panic, waving his arms. "This is a ticking time bomb! He's clearly here on a mission! If he goes on stage and pulls some dirty trick, or even if he's cured but refuses to admit it, we're all finished!"

"Let him come."

Suddenly, a lazy, slightly hoarse voice, sounding like someone who had just woken up, came over the loudspeaker in the lounge.

Although the voice was languid, it carried an undeniable air of authority.

"White...white work? You're not asleep?" Wang Tao shouted into the loudspeaker on the ceiling.

"I just woke up, and you guys are making so much noise."

Bai Che's voice carried a hint of morning grumpiness, "Put him on bed number one. Pin this."

"But he's here to cause trouble!" Wang Tao stamped his feet anxiously.

"What we want is to cause trouble."

A soft laugh came over the radio, a laugh tinged with an air of complete control. "Even if you find a scapegoat and act it out perfectly, someone will still say it's scripted. But if you find a mad dog who's ready to bite you to death to act as a witness, that's the most convincing thing you can do."

"Tell him he's welcome to expose the fraud."

Bai Che's voice paused, then turned icy, "As long as he can prove in public that he still has a cancer cell in his body, I will personally deliver that one hundred million to him."

……

Ten minutes later.

A document titled "Hell List" was released globally through Zero Boundary Technology's official website.

There was no unnecessary fluff, no sentimental copywriting. Just the names and photos of ten people, and a screenshot of that despairing diagnosis.

1. **Zhao Tiezui** (the number one hater on the internet, stage four stomach cancer)

2. **Zhang Li** (National First-Class Hero, late-stage lung cancer)

3. **Chen Jianbang** (abandoned son of Pfizer, late-stage liver cancer)

……

This list includes the elderly, children, the poor, the wealthy, and even thugs from opposing camps. Each medical record is irrefutable proof of certain death, enough to make even the King of Hell nod and sign.

The online trolls who were originally clamoring for "acting" and "begging" froze when they saw the familiar "Zhao Tiezui" and "Chen Jianbang," their fingers that were typing away on the keyboard hanging in mid-air.

That's so hardcore!

Which production company would hire an enemy who could turn on you at any moment? Which production company would hire a shill who was betrayed and ruined by his former employer?

boom!

Weibo's servers completely crashed this time; even the repair page wouldn't load. This time, it wasn't due to traffic issues, but rather a logical collapse caused by extreme shock.

Night falls.

On the tarmac of the Kunlun base, twelve high-powered searchlights suddenly lit up, and several beams of light pierced the dark night sky, shooting straight into the heavens.

Ten heavy vertical takeoff and landing (VTOL) transport aircraft, painted in pure black with huge silver "Zero Boundary" logos printed on their fuselages, slowly lifted off the ground amidst a tremendous roar as their engines spewed out eerie blue plasma flames.

They will travel to ten different cities across the country to pick up ten people who have been sentenced to death by the Grim Reaper.

At this moment, whether it's the executives at Pfizer headquarters holding wine glasses or the keyboard warriors eating instant noodles in urban villages, hundreds of millions of eyes around the world are fixed on those ten flashing red dots on the radar chart.

This was a fatal flight.

It is also a journey to the unknown Noah's Ark.

Inside the S1 main control room, the huge red countdown clock ticked again, like the death knell of the Grim Reaper, or the dawn of a new world.

**Time until live stream starts: 35 hours and 59 minutes.**