20: A poor imitator

Gao Fan's body took an involuntary step back, bumping into the doorframe.

The ridicule and schadenfreude in his eyes shattered in that instant, leaving behind only endless absurdity and... fear.

Chen Mo didn't spare him another glance.

He walked straight past Gao Fan; that complete disregard was louder than any slap.

The officers at the door who had been waiting for a joke now parted like the Red Sea before Moses, instinctively moving aside to clear a path.

There was no longer any contempt in their eyes.

Only a ghost-like awe remained.

"Captain Zhao."

Chen Mo's voice came from outside, as calm as a placid lake.

"I need a command vehicle and the architectural blueprints for Yangguang Residential Area."

"Alright!"

Zhao Dahai suddenly snapped back to his senses, a fervent light erupting in his eyes.

He grabbed his jacket and strode out. As he passed Gao Fan, his footsteps paused.

He said nothing.

He merely glanced at this former pride of the Police Academy with a look reserved for trash.

Then, he left without looking back.

...

The night was torn open by the sharp, scarlet wails of police sirens.

Several SWAT Officer assault vehicles and a mobile command vehicle formed a black torrent of steel, roaring toward West City.

Inside the command vehicle.

Chen Mo sat in the main seat. The screen before him displayed the detailed structural diagram of Room 701, Building A, Yangguang Residential Area.

Su Qingxue stood by his side, quickly reporting the information that had just come in.

"The target is Lin Feng. He has simple social ties, lives alone, is unemployed, and rented this apartment three months ago."

"According to the landlord, he almost never goes out, relying on online shopping for all his daily necessities."

Chen Mo's finger slid lightly across the screen, finally stopping at the balcony of Room 701.

"Are the snipers in position?" he asked without looking up.

"In position."

The SWAT Officer captain's voice came through the earpiece. "On the roof of Building B across the way, there are two sniper points that can completely cover all the target's windows."

"Good."

Chen Mo nodded and continued to issue orders.

"Cut the power and internet signals for the entire Building A."

"Why?" Su Qingxue asked, puzzled. "Won't that alert the snake?"

"He isn't a snake."

Chen Mo's gaze remained locked on the screen, his eyes cold.

"He's an actor—a madman craving an audience."

"He must be online right now, using some anonymous account to live-stream our every move."

"He wants the whole world to see how he plays the police like puppets in the palm of his hand."

Su Qingxue's back felt a surge of cold air.

"I'm going to smash his stage right now and turn off his spotlight."

...

Ten minutes later.

Yangguang Residential Area.

Below Building A, it was pitch black.

A dozen SWAT Officer in black combat gear, clutching assault rifles, clung silently to the shadows of the unit entrance like ghosts.

Zhao Dahai personally led the team, staying at the rear of the assault group, listening for instructions from the command vehicle through a throat mic.

"All units attention, the target is on the seventh floor."

Chen Mo's voice came through the encrypted channel, clearly reaching the ears of every SWAT Officer.

"He knows we're here. Do not force the door."

"Team One, go knock on the door."

Knock?

All the SWAT Officer were stunned for a moment.

What kind of tactic was this?

But an order was an order.

Two SWAT Officer stowed their weapons, walked to the security door of 701, and knocked like community police officers.

Knock, knock, knock.

The crisp knocking sounded exceptionally eerie in the deathly silent corridor.

One second.

Two seconds.

Click.

The door actually opened from the inside.

A refined-looking man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a white shirt appeared at the door.

He wore a polite and composed smile, as if he had long expected them to come.

His gaze swept past the SWAT Officer at the door, seemingly searching for someone.

"You've finally arrived."

Lin Feng said with a smile, his voice as warm as if he were hosting friends.

"But where is my protagonist? Why didn't he come?"

He held a phone in his hand, the screen displaying a live-streaming app interface.

The power and internet cut had clearly interrupted his 'performance.'

"Take him down!"

Zhao Dahai gave a low growl, and several SWAT Officer instantly lunged forward.

"Don't move."

Lin Feng raised his other hand, holding a miniature remote control.

"I've rigged the entire room with high explosives."

He smiled like an elegant Magician.

"With just one light press, all of us will become the most brilliant fireworks in the night sky."

The SWAT Officer's movements came to a sudden halt.

Zhao Dahai's fists creaked as he clenched them.

"What exactly do you want?!"

"I don't want anything in particular."

Lin Feng adjusted his glasses, his gaze still searching through the crowd.

"I only want to have a private chat with my 'judge'."

"To have him admit, with his own mouth, that my work is perfect."

The corridor fell into a deathly stalemate.

Just then.

A cool, indifferent voice came from the walkie-talkie behind Zhao Dahai.

Through the loudspeaker on his chest, it echoed throughout the corridor.

"Are you looking for me?"

It was Chen Mo's voice.

Lin Feng's eyes lit up instantly!

Like he had found a soulmate, a fanatical smile broke across his face.

"Yes! It's you! My judge! My confidant!"

He spoke excitedly to the air.

"Come! Come witness my masterpiece! We are the same kind of people!"

"No."

From the walkie-talkie, Chen Mo's voice was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head.

"We are not the same."

"You are just a... poor Mimics."

The smile on Lin Feng's face froze.

"What did you say?"

"I said, your work is full of holes."

Chen Mo's voice, transmitted through the current, was like a Scalpel, precisely dissecting Lin Feng's self-esteem.

"That senior from ten years ago—he killed because he truly believed it was an art form; he enjoyed the process."

"But you—the first thing you did after killing was check the surveillance, wipe fingerprints, and consider how to escape punishment."

"Every single one of your actions is filled with the fear of being caught."

"You didn't even dare to hum with your own rhythm, instead mimicking the physical frequency of a passing sanitation worker in the footage to hide your nervousness."

"You only mimicked his methods, but you can never learn his soul."

"You aren't an artist; you're just a... pathetic wretch craving attention."

"Shut up!!"

Lin Feng finally lost control.

Like an infuriated beast, he let out a piercing roar.

"What do you know! You know nothing!"

His hand holding the remote trembled violently with agitation, his thumb hovering over the detonation button!

The atmosphere in the corridor reached a breaking point!

Zhao Dahai's hand was already on his sidearm.

"I know nothing?"

Over the walkie-talkie, Chen Mo's voice suddenly carried a hint of pity.

"Then let me ask you: why was the letter you wrote to me in Copperplate Calligraphy?"

Lin Feng was stunned.

"Because... because it looks more elegant that way!"

"No."

Chen Mo's voice sounded like a sentence from the deepest abyss.

"Because the 'Emperor's' favorite artworks to collect are medieval Copperplate Calligraphy manuscripts."

Boom!

Lin Feng's brain felt as if it had been hit by an actual bomb!

The color drained from his face instantly, and his hand holding the remote froze in mid-air.

"How... how do you know?!"

"This was your greatest secret! It was the only clue you had found about that legendary organization on a hidden Dark Web forum!"

"It was a code you thought only you and the supreme 'Emperor' understood!"

"I also know."

Chen Mo's voice completely shattered his final psychological defense.

"The 'Emperor' never recruits Mimics."

"He only appreciates... originality."

"In this selection trial of yours, you were disqualified from the very beginning."

Clack.

The remote control that Lin Feng saw as his final trump card slipped from his powerless hand and hit the floor.

He went limp as if his bones had been removed, collapsing at the doorway.

All the madness and pride in his eyes shattered.

Leaving only endless... blankness and despair.

"Go!"

At Zhao Dahai's command, several SWAT Officer swarmed forward, pinning him firmly to the ground.

Cold handcuffs locked his wrists, along with his dream of a ridiculous 'perfect crime.'

He was escorted through the corridor.

He didn't struggle; he just raised his head.

With hollow eyes, he looked toward the black command vehicle downstairs.

He knew the man who had crushed his dignity into dust was right there.

"You think the game is over?"

He suddenly used all his strength to howl.

His voice carried a malicious curse.

"No! The 'Emperor's' game has only just begun!"

"He will see you! He will definitely find you!"

"Hahaha... when that time comes, I'll see how you, the judge, meet your end!"

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