Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

The video has finished playing.

The screen went dark.

This time, the darkness lasted a long time.

"All four motorcycles have been found; they belong to the same group of minors who were racing on the extended section of Fenglin Road. Their identities have been confirmed, and the search is ongoing..."

“I know,” the middle-aged man said, completely ignoring the commander’s nonsense. “Your instructions from above are to stabilize the situation first. Observe, adapt, and even… cooperate appropriately. Don’t provoke him and make him think that this ‘process’ can still be played out, right?”

"Yes. The current strategy has proven effective; the target has remained stable for four days without triggering a larger-scale..."

"Do you know how much money was spent in these four days?!"

"Regarding funding, the higher authorities will..."

“You don’t need to tell me all this,” the middle-aged man interrupted him, his voice tinged with impatience. “Your superiors probably didn’t tell you either that they’re keeping him under their noses in the compound, right?”

In the darkness, a slight rustling sound could be heard as the commander adjusted his stance, the fabric of his clothes rubbing together.

“The expert team has analyzed it repeatedly,” the commander’s voice remained steady, but his pace quickened, as if he were reciting a prepared briefing, “given the target’s evasion capabilities and behavior patterns demonstrated last time, the feasibility of a conventional capture without using heavy weapons or causing large-scale collateral damage is… extremely low.”

"Based on behavioral profiling, the target has an extremely strong desire for revenge!"

"Further provocations or attempts to apprehend could trigger unpredictable escalations. No one can afford the consequences at present."

"How long?" the man in the shirt asked.

"The expert team is developing multiple response plans, striving to find the safest and most thorough solution..."

"What I'm asking is, how long?"

"...This requires time for assessment and deployment." The commander paused for a moment. "Tonight was just an accident; his probing and localized interference with the system had been within the controllable and expected range. Next, we will strengthen monitoring and contingency plans in the relevant areas to ensure..."

"There's nothing more to come!" The middle-aged man's voice turned cold. "I don't care if he's acting as a chivalrous knight or upholding justice, and I don't care what data models or behavioral analyses you use!"

"No matter what method you use, the point is, you can't lure him to the capital, but that doesn't mean you have to let him stay in Y City! Why should we be the ones who suffer?! Don't think that just because you're keeping things to yourself we don't know anything!"

"Whoever's child it is, take him away!" the middle-aged man nearly roared. "Damn it, he doesn't even have an ID card from X province!"

49. The sun shines brightly overhead.

When Wu Qingchen woke up in the morning, she found that her phone was working normally again.

Or rather, it's very abnormal.

"One in two elderly Japanese people commit a crime is going to jail!"

The death toll in the Spanish high-speed train crash has risen to 45!

"Large-scale protests erupted, targeting Chinese people; locals protested with Chinese banners on the beach!"

"Another scandal has emerged in the US organ donation sector: a baby girl was killed and her organs harvested."

A heartbreaking scene unfolds on the banks of the Ganges in India: a man “releases” milk into the river, while starving children are deliberately avoided when trying to receive it.

"The U.S. Department of Justice has formally directed federal prosecutors to seek the death penalty for Luigi at trial, charging him with first-degree federal murder."

"The Nara District Court held a jury trial and delivered a verdict on 45-year-old defendant Tetsuya Yamagami. Yamagami was accused of shooting and killing former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe with a homemade gun in Nara in 2022 while he was giving a campaign speech for the House of Councillors election. The charges included murder. Presiding Judge Shinichi Tanaka sentenced Yamagami to life imprisonment."

Are they treating me like a monkey? They think they can just grab a banana and make me run around everywhere?

Zhang Qiliang wanted to laugh.

"Fairy's self-narration: While working on the assembly line of a certain 'branded potato chips', I added various biological fragments of myself."

"A couple found rat poison in the bok choy they bought online, resulting in severe bleeding and hospitalization in the ICU..."

"Female cashier squandered millions of public funds on cosmetic surgery and luxury cars..."

"Extracting 12 teeth at once caused a heart attack and shock..."

Two minutes later.

Zhang Qiliang sighed.

Humans evolved from primates, so praising humans for resembling our ancestors is, in a way, a compliment.

--------

At 10 a.m., the sun in Guangming City was already frighteningly strong.

Located in the south, July and August should be relatively cool, but this year is strange, with tropical cyclones lingering.

The sun shone down blindingly, baking the asphalt road until it softened, sending up distorted waves of heat, and filling the air with the acrid smell of tires rubbing together.

Chen Ming stood at the corner where Jianshe South Road and Anping Lane intersect, holding up a cardboard sign.

The sign was cut from a cardboard box I used for shipping; it's whiteboard with several lines of large characters written on it in black marker:

Seeking eyewitnesses

Around 4 PM on July 15th

An elderly person fell at this intersection, so I stopped to help.

"Now he is being falsely accused of being the perpetrator."

"I earnestly request that any kind person who happened to be passing by contact me."

His mobile phone number was left below.

The handwriting wasn't very neat; some strokes were blurred because of excessive force, and the edges of the sign were softened and slightly curled by sweat.

Chen Ming was wearing a light gray shirt, the back of which was soaked through and clung tightly to his skin.

He was of medium build and rather thin, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses were bloodshot.

My lips were chapped from dehydration, and my face was flushed with an unnatural redness—half from the sun and half from anxiety.

He stood there for three days.

I stand from 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. every day, and then from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. again, just like going to work, but ten times more tiring than going to work.

This section of Jianshe South Road isn't particularly bustling. The roadside is mostly lined with old hardware stores and auto repair shops, and further in are self-built houses slated for demolition. Normally, there's not much traffic or pedestrian flow; occasionally, an electric scooter whizzes by, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Occasionally, someone would stop to look at the sign.

An older woman carrying a shopping basket squinted and read for a long time before shaking her head: "What a tragedy..."

gone.

A delivery guy on a motorcycle glanced at something while waiting at a red light, and sped off as soon as the light turned green.

Most of the time, it's people driving by who slow down, roll down their windows, glance at the sign, and give it a complicated look—concern, curiosity, but mostly a sense of detachment, like "thank goodness it wasn't me." Then they roll up their windows and drive away.

No one came forward to say, "I saw it."

not a single one.

Sweat streamed down my forehead, slid into my eyes, and stung.

Chen Ming took off his glasses and wiped them haphazardly with the corner of his clothes, temporarily blurring the world into a patch of color.

Time passed little by little.

The sun is getting stronger and stronger.

Chen Ming felt dizzy, so he unscrewed the mineral water bottle he had brought and took a sip.

He glanced at his phone.

Half past ten.

My daughter sent me a WeChat message: "Dad, are you still there? Are you hot? Shall I bring you some water?"

Chen Ming's eyes welled up with tears.

My daughter is ten years old and in the fourth grade.

The atmosphere at home has been oppressive for the past two weeks.

Although his wife supported him, she sighed privately, "Maybe... we should just accept it and save ourselves the trouble. Anyway, the insurance will cover it, so we won't lose money."

Chen Ming knew his wife was worried about him.

For the past two weeks, he has been unable to eat or sleep well, and his work has also been affected. He has lost a lot of weight.

But he shook his head: "No. I didn't do it, I can't admit it. If I admit it, how am I supposed to tell my daughter? That her father did a good deed but was framed, so he admitted it?"

The wife fell silent.

"Dad, have you eaten?"

My daughter sent another message.

Chen Ming replied, "I've eaten, baby, don't worry. Focus on your studies."

He hadn't eaten breakfast and had no appetite.

Chen Ming's arm, which had been holding the sign, began to ache. Just as he was about to switch arms, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye—

At the other end of the intersection, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

The person seemed to appear out of thin air, or as if they had been condensed from a wave of sweltering heat.

He walked slowly and steadily along the sidewalk, his pace unsteady and even leisurely, completely out of place in the sweltering midday heat.

He was a young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, wearing a plain dark T-shirt and jeans, with a well-proportioned figure.

Despite the scorching sun, he didn't break a sweat. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were calm, as still as water in a deep well on a summer day.

He walked up to Chen Ming and stopped.

His gaze first fell on Chen Ming's sweaty and disheveled face, then moved to the cardboard sign that had become soft from the sun, and he read it word by word.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable under the silent gaze, Chen Ming subconsciously raised the sign higher, and spoke in a hoarse voice, repeating what he had said countless times: "Looking for...looking for eyewitnesses...On the afternoon of October 15th, an elderly person fell at this intersection..."

The young man didn't interrupt him; he just listened.

He only spoke after Chen Ming had finished speaking:

"There are no surveillance cameras at the intersection?"

"No... this old town area has never been installed."

"Your own dashcam?"

"You can only take pictures of the front, not the side... The traffic police said it's useless." Chen Ming smiled wryly.

Two weeks ago, at the same intersection.

That day was a Saturday, around four o'clock in the afternoon, when Chen Ming drove to pick up his daughter from her tutoring class.

When passing through this intersection, the speed was not fast, about 30 miles per hour.

He remembers it clearly because his daughter called to say that get out of class was almost over, and he glanced at the time.

Then he saw an elderly man riding an electric bike on his right side ahead. For some reason, the bike veered off course and he fell to the side of the road.

The old man was badly hurt when the electric scooter ran over one of his legs. He struggled for a few moments but couldn't get up.

Chen Ming barely hesitated before turning on his turn signal and pulling over to the side of the road.

He got off his car and ran over, first lifting the electric scooter and pushing it aside, then helping the elderly man.

The old man was probably in his seventies, thin, wearing a blue work jacket, his face was covered in dust, his lips were trembling, and he could not stand steadily.

"Grandpa, are you alright? Where are you hurt?" Chen Ming asked.

The old man couldn't speak in complete sentences; he could only point to his left leg with a pained expression.

Chen Ming looked around.

The intersection was deserted; there was no one there.

He hesitated for a second—he had seen news stories online about people being extorted after helping elderly people—but in front of him was a living, breathing person groaning in pain.

He gritted his teeth, helped the old man onto the back seat of his car, then went back and locked the old man's electric bike to the roadside railing, leaving a note with his phone number.

Then he drove the old man to the nearest Guangming City Second Hospital.

On the way, the old man calmed down a little and said his name, Li Fuquan, intermittently, and that he lived in Anping Lane.

As Chen Ming drove, he reassured the old man, "Don't be afraid, we'll be at the hospital soon."

Upon arriving at the hospital, I registered, had X-rays taken, and underwent examinations.

The doctor said it was a fracture of the left lower leg and that surgery was needed immediately.