21: Suspicion and the initiative of top students

Seven hours after the National Special Bureau personnel left, Excellence paced around his dormitory like a trapped beast. The setting sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains, slicing the room into a cage of light and shadow. Every flicker of light made his heart skip a beat, and every faint sound sent a chill down his spine.

He found himself beginning to analyze everything using the knowledge from the "Basic Counter-Reconnaissance Manual" instilled by the system: Was the swaying frequency of the branches outside the window abnormal? Did the footsteps in the hallway have a tentative rhythm? He even used the Voiceprint Analysis Module provided by the system to repeatedly study the breathing frequency of the delivery guy downstairs who lingered for a few extra seconds under his helmet.

"Is it just psychological?" He tried to calm himself by washing his face with cold water, but his fingers suddenly froze as they touched the faucet—the warning that suddenly popped up from the system left him chilled to the bone:

[High-frequency vibration sensor signal detected! Suspected acoustic collection device eavesdropping through water pipe conduction! Immediate activation of background noise interference is recommended!]

Excellence hurriedly opened his phone's music player and shuffled to a loud electronic track. Amidst the deafening beats, he realized with despair that his every move was being monitored.

"System, can you block these signals?" he asked in his mind, his voice nearly cracking, his fingers unconsciously tapping out an SOS in Morse code on the desk.

[Current technology level is insufficient. It is recommended that the Host maintain normal behavior; excessive defensive reactions will increase the other party's alert level. According to monitoring data, the seven surrounding signal sources are using different frequency bands...]

The technical parameters reported by the system suffocated him. For the first time, he truly hated his enhanced memory—those frequency numbers were seared into his mind like branding irons. A thermal imager on a rooftop 437 meters to the southeast, a laser eavesdropper on a communication tower 1.2 kilometers to the south, to the northwest... "Enough!" He clamped his hands over his ears, though he knew it was pointless. The surveillance was invisible, yet more stifling than a physical cage. He tried to "maintain normalcy" as the system suggested, but his trembling hands as he picked up a screwdriver betrayed him.

This omnipresent sense of oppression severely interfered with his research. The newly released "High-Precision Neural Interface White Paper" from the system was despairingly complex; every neuron in the rotating 3D brain model on the holographic projection seemed to mock his incompetence. When he misconnected the hippocampus signal simulation circuit for the third time, he finally collapsed into his chair, broken.

Just then, his phone's ringtone exploded like a clap of thunder. Excellence jumped out of his chair in fright, his knee slamming hard against the edge of the workbench. The sharp pain cleared his head instantly, and the two words "Su Mu" on the caller ID sent his heart rate soaring to 120 beats per minute.

"System! Analyze the background noise! Is there any eavesdropping?" he commanded silently with his lips, his finger trembling over the answer button.

[Monitoring call line... No conventional eavesdropping signals found. Note: The use of quantum-level surveillance methods cannot be ruled out.]

Three rings felt like three centuries of torment. When he finally pressed the answer button, it felt like he was flipping the switch on his own destiny.

"Excellence." Su Mu's voice came through, cold as usual, but Excellence keenly caught a minute vibration in the sound waves—it was the unconsciously quickened rhythm of her breathing. The system immediately displayed the analysis results on his retina: [Voiceprint analysis shows the other party is in a state of slight anxiety, heart rate approximately 90 bpm.]

"Ah? N-nothing's wrong. What's up, Class Monitor?" Excellence tried to relax his vocal cords, but his words still came out with an unnatural cadence. He wanted to slap himself—this reaction was far too suspicious!

The silence on the other end lasted for a full two seconds. Excellence could hear his own sweat dripping onto the desk, and even the change in frequency of a pigeon's wings outside the window—his system-enhanced hearing had become a form of torture.

"I heard... people from the Education Bureau came to do a spot check on the dorms yesterday?" Su Mu finally spoke, each word sounding precisely measured. "They supposedly even went to your room?"

Excellence cursed whoever spread the news a hundred times over. The system promptly displayed a [Response Guide: Use laughter to cover it up, duration 3.2 seconds, pitch frequency controlled at 180-220 Hz] on his retina.

"Hahaha, yeah," he let out an exaggerated laugh according to the instructions. "Checking electrical safety. They said my wiring was a mess and gave me a lecture..." The laughter lasted exactly 3.2 seconds, but he immediately realized he had overacted.

Su Mu's next sentence froze the smile on his face: "Just checking electrical safety? I heard from students in the next building that they didn't look like they were from the Education Bureau; they had a very strong presence..."

Excellence felt cold sweat instantly soak his shirt. The system's warning windows flashed frantically: [Logic challenge detected! Immediate use of a vague explanation strategy is recommended!]

"Maybe... maybe they were leaders? They had quite an air about them..." he said evasively, his fingers unconsciously tracing an SOS in Morse code on the desk. "You know how those higher-ups like to put on airs..."

Another suffocating silence followed. Excellence could almost imagine Su Mu's slight frown—the expression she only made when she found a flaw in a math problem. The system detected minute electrical noise in the call line, suggesting she might be performing other operations simultaneously.

Just as Excellence thought she was going to hang up, Su Mu suddenly said, "Didn't you say before that you were having trouble with your electronic project? The circuit diagram... is it finished? If you still need help, I... I have some time this weekend."

Excellence was stunned. The system immediately projected a 3D risk model on his retina, red warning signs spinning wildly: [High-risk alert! Contact with a third party may expose the existence of the system!]

But another voice was screaming: that damn neural interface task had been stuck for three days! The system's punishment countdown was ticking coldly on his retina: 71:59:32. He glanced at the pile of neural interface components on the workbench—at this rate, he might not even finish the assembly by next month.

[Risk Assessment: Contact with target 'Su Mu' carries a 40.7% probability of triggering further investigation. Benefit Assessment: Potential to increase current R&D efficiency by 372%. Decision power delegated to the Host.]

Excellence gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white. He noticed the position of the grey pigeon outside had changed; the system indicated its wing-flapping frequency differed from a normal pigeon by 12.3%.

The fear of failing the task finally outweighed the fear of exposure.

"R-really? Then thank you so much, Class Monitor!" Excellence tried to make his voice sound pleasantly surprised while controlling his pitch to a perfectly grateful frequency based on the system's real-time tuning: "I-I've drawn a few drafts, but they're a mess. I was just worrying about having no one to guide me! Would... would the library work this weekend?"

"Okay. Saturday morning at nine, see you in the electronic reading room on the third floor of the library." Su Mu set the time and place decisively and ended the call without further pleasantries.

Excellence leaned against the wall, clutching his hot phone, feeling completely drained. Just then, the system issued a sharp alarm:

[New monitoring signal source detected! Bearing North, distance 23 meters, signature match: Laser vibration eavesdropper! Immediate acoustic interference measures are recommended!]

Excellence lunged for his audio equipment, his fingers trembling as he hit play. Beethoven's "Fate Symphony" suddenly filled the room, and amidst the stirring melody, he slowly slid to the floor.

"It's over..." he muttered to himself. "This time, it's really over..."

At the other end of the library, Su Mu slowly put down her phone, her gaze sweeping over the "Abnormal Electromagnetic Signal Distribution Map" she had just completed. On the screen, the area representing Excellence's dormitory glowed with a piercing red warning sign.

She lightly touched her tablet, pulling up a recently decrypted file—"Emergency Response Plan for Unregistered High-Energy Reaction Sources." The security level marker at the end of the document made her frown slightly.

"Education Bureau?" she whispered to herself, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the seemingly ordinary silver brooch on her chest. "I'm afraid it's not that simple..."

Outside the window, a grey pigeon landed on the sill, a faint metallic glint flashing in its blood-red eyes. Su Mu glanced at the pigeon and quickly typed a string of commands into her tablet. The pigeon suddenly took flight, heading toward Excellence's dormitory.

Meanwhile, Excellence was urgently setting up anti-eavesdropping devices under the system's guidance. As he installed the last electromagnetic shield on the window frame, the system suddenly popped up a new warning:

[Unknown encrypted signal detected! Signature match: Military Quantum Communication Protocol! Signal source location: Library area!]

Excellence's heart sank. He realized that the players in this game might be far more complex than he had imagined.