I put you in charge of those rebellious female soldiers, how come they all became top special forces

The two arrived at the pre-treatment room outside the incinerator, where an armed guard stood at the door.

The man was leaning against the wall, holding a walkie-talkie, but he didn't seem to be very focused.

Chen Zheng reached the corner, took a screw out of his pocket, and flicked it towards the other end of the corridor.

The screw fell to the ground with a soft click.

The guard turned his head reflexively.

In that instant, Chen Zheng had already pressed himself against it.

Left hand covering mouth, right hand locking throat, knee pressing against lumbar spine—the three movements are executed in one smooth, clean motion.

The guard's eyes rolled back, and he went limp.

An Ran stepped forward to search them, took the walkie-talkie and access card, and the two of them pushed the door open and went inside.

The pre-processing room is much larger than the transit archives room.

The wall is lined with refrigerated filing cabinets on three sides, and when the cabinet doors are opened, a blast of cold air comes out.

Inside, there were all sorts of paper rolls, film canisters, old-fashioned cassette tapes, and digital hard drives.

The film canister was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the labels had turned yellow.

But there were several black hard drives next to it, and their outer shells were warm.

An Ran reached out and touched it, but immediately withdrew her finger, not daring to leave a fingerprint.

It's possible that these hard drives have been constantly being accessed.

In the corner of the room, a technician in a white coat was squatting.

This person was probably reviewing the data before the incineration; there were several printouts on the table, and the computer screen was still lit.

He saw two fully armed men burst through the door, and his face turned pale instantly.

Without saying a word, Chen Zheng lifted the person up from the chair and put him in front of the keyboard.

"Open A-07."

The technician's lips trembled as he said, "A-07 is just an ordinary old file, nothing special..."

Before he could finish speaking, Chen Zheng pulled out his gun: "Kill you, and I can see it too."

The technician's last shred of hope vanished.

He turned around, his fingers tapping on the keyboard, and he even accidentally entered the wrong password twice.

An Ran stood beside him, looking down at him with a frighteningly cold expression.

The technician's hands trembled involuntarily; he finally got it right on the third try.

The screen redirects.

The moment the file was opened, An Ran almost stopped breathing.

The first line that pops up on the screen is a name.

Lin Liangyu.

Anran's mother's name.

Below that is the complete set of experimental observation tables.

Specific details include, but are not limited to: capture time, neural stimulation tolerance records, and drug response curves.

I remember every single detail.

An Ran suppressed the blood that was about to burst from her chest and looked down line by line.

Page after page, filled with cold numbers and graphs.

Back then, her mother did not die while exploring the place, but was arrested and became a test subject.

She bit her lip, forcing herself not to break down, and desperately tried to memorize everything as she watched.

She had to memorize every number and every curve.

Chen Zheng stood on the other side, also watching the screen.

He wasn't focused on the experimental data, but rather on the project approval page.

The approval page has a chain of signatures attached, with a number stamp at the top.

That's the standard interface number for CIA outsourced medical projects.

The signature chain is arranged from bottom to top, with the bottom layer being the local technical lead in Baiwenpo, and it has changed hands twice in the middle.

The top signature area was blacked out, but the format and encoding rules don't lie.

Everything was obvious; Bai Wenpo had been doing dirty work for the CIA all these years.

After all, Americans still have a sense of shame. It's not appropriate to do this kind of thing in China. So, they take advantage of the things left behind by the Japanese in the past and continue to carry out this outrageous behavior in this godforsaken corner.

Chen Zheng took a picture of the approval page and turned to the next page.

On the thirty-seventh day of the experiment, a red mark appeared in the remarks column.

"A violent incident occurred at 3:17 a.m. in sample A-07."

"The medicine station was overturned, and two researchers were stabbed."

"Attempting to forcibly seize the data and leave."

"It had been released from the hospital, recaptured, and transferred to a high-security area."

Upon seeing this, An Ran's eyes immediately welled up with tears.

Even after being arrested, numbered, and used as a sample, the mother still overturned the medicine table, stabbed two people, and tried to steal the data.

She finally understood why the identification buckle and the old military boots appeared in different places.

It is highly likely that the mother dismantled and hid some of the clues during the counterattack.

The veins on the back of her hand, which was gripping the gun, were bulging, and her teeth were grinding together.

Chen Zheng glanced at her.

"It's okay to cry, but don't let your hands shake. This document must not be soiled."

Upon hearing this, An Ran took a deep breath, forced back her tears, and continued reading.

Chen Zheng didn't stop, quickly flipping to the last page of the file.

Then, her fingers also froze.

The case closure section on the last page did not state "confirmed death".

The message reads: "Transferred to Ward Zero, status pending verification."

An Ran stared at the line of words, her whole body stiffening.

Status pending verification.

It is not a confirmed death.

Her mind went blank for a moment.

For the past twenty years, all my father has talked about is sacrifice.

An Jianjun was referring to the fact that the body could not be recovered.

Everyone told her that her mother was dead.

"She...isn't dead?"

Chen Zheng did not answer.

Because he wasn't sure either.

"Pending review" could mean the person is still alive, or it could simply mean the paperwork hasn't finished.

He couldn't give An Ran false hope at this time. If they found out later that the person was really dead, she would really go crazy.

Anran stared at the screen, tears welling up again.

With red eyes, she raised her hand to pull the entire document out of the cabinet.

Chen Zheng grabbed her hand.

"Take only the core components, and photograph the rest."

An Ran glared at him suddenly.

"Can't you let me take a look a little longer!"

Chen Zheng's expression remained calm.

"No."

After saying that, he pulled out the most important pages of the original document and stuffed them directly into An Ran's pocket.

An Ran gritted her teeth and took it without saying anything more.

Then, Chen Zheng turned around and quickly took pictures of the remaining pages one by one, and saved a separate copy of the CIA interface number and signature chain.

The technician huddled to one side, not daring to breathe.

After Chen Zheng finished taking the photos, he walked up to him.

Where is Ward Zero?

The technician swallowed hard and said, his voice trembling.

"I don't know... I don't have enough authority. I'm only responsible for reviewing the preprocessing work..."

Chen Zheng didn't waste any words with him, directly took his name tag, and glanced at his access level.

They were indeed just lowly beasts of burden.

He threw the name tag back and was about to lead Anran out of the pretreatment room.

The technician suddenly added.

"But... Madam will be coming to see the old files in person tonight."

Chen Zheng paused in his steps.

An Ran also turned around abruptly.

"What did you say?"

The technician shrank back and whispered again.

"A notice has been issued from above... the Madam's inspection tour has been moved up..."

Just then, Chen Zheng caught a glimpse of the intranet terminal screen on the wall flashing.