388: Chapter 385 If I Can't Be an Actor, I'll Be a Director

The three returned to their respective dorms.

Shen Mingyuan closed the door, didn't even turn on the light, and sat directly in front of his computer. The light from the bright screen illuminated his face, making his pensive expression appear somewhat pale.

He opened the search bar, his fingers hovered for a moment, then he typed a few words: Urban Guardian Armored Man.

The page refreshed.

There weren't many results.

The earliest post appeared two days ago—someone posted in the middle of the night, saying they saw a person in red armor in the old industrial district in the east of the city, pinning a robber to the ground and beating him up. The accompanying picture was so blurry it looked like it was taken with a landline phone, only a vague red silhouette.

There were only a few comments below: Photoshopped, right? Fake. Another one trying to go viral.

The next day, two more appeared.

One was a text description; the poster said they were almost robbed on their way home when a red figure suddenly rushed out and knocked the two people down in three seconds. They particularly emphasized, “It really was just like those two in the TV show, wearing armor.”

The other included a video—ten-odd seconds long, the camera shaking violently, vaguely showing a red and black figure flashing past the lens and then disappearing into the alley. The comment section erupted: If this is real, I'll eat shit while standing on my head. People who believe this must be crazy. My house is nearby; I can confirm I heard something that night.

On the third day, which was today, a little more information appeared.

Someone posted a photo that, although blurry, clearly showed a daytime scene—a street corner, a person in an ordinary hoodie walking away quickly with their back to the camera, the hoodie pulled low, obscuring their face. The poster said, “I think I photographed the red Armored Man; they're just an ordinary person during the day, walking extremely fast, couldn't catch up.”

Someone else claimed to have received his help, saying the person was incredibly strong, capable of lifting a motorcycle with one hand. But this post was heavily criticized, with some saying he was bragging without thinking.

Shen Mingyuan reread these posts several times, then scrolled down—after that, it was all jumbled related terms, like red armor cosplay, game screenshots, and clickbait news articles fabricated by marketing accounts.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in silence for a while.

“Suddenly appeared two days ago...” he muttered to himself, “The timing is too short, so short it's like he just came out of the oven.”

He scrolled back to look at the blurry pictures again.

“If it's naturally evolved armor... it's not impossible, but it's too rare. And he still has to live a normal life; how could so many people have seen him so quickly?”

His fingers tapped lightly on the desktop.

“Unless... he didn't evolve naturally.”

Zhao Qifeng’s face flashed in his mind. That corroding abyss armor, those out-of-control Metal Trilobites, that mad scientist who completed a second 강화 in nutrient solution.

He died, but his research continued.

Li Jianguo was his most promising successor.

“Inheriting his will, continuing the experiment...” Shen Mingyuan murmured, “To create a new armor?”

He looked at the blurry red figures on the screen, silent for a long time.

Then he stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the dark night.

“How do I find him?”

He remembered the descriptions in those posts—appearing at night, specifically targeting bullies and villains.

“Stage a play,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The next day, in the morning.

Shen Mingyuan was gone early in the morning. Wei Ziqing and Ye Ouyang searched the base but couldn't find him. Finally, Lu Jianchuan sent a message, calling the two to an empty office on the east side of the base.

The door pushed open, revealing seven or eight people inside—all ordinary staff members of the base, including logistics, administration, and two familiar young women who usually rotated shifts at the front desk. They were gathered around a table, listening to Shen Mingyuan speak.

“...So, you must understand,” Shen Mingyuan stood at the table, hands resting on the surface, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, his tone very low, carrying a deliberately theatrical flair, “Tonight, in this dark night—”

Wei Ziqing stood at the door, stunned for a moment, then looked at Lu Jianchuan. Lu Jianchuan leaned against the wall, expressionless, looking as if he was “already used to this.”

Ye Ouyang poked his head in, quietly asking, “What's Brother Shen doing?”

“He's being a director,” Lu Jianchuan said.

Shen Mingyuan didn't notice them and continued his speech.

“—You are the protagonists of this dark performance!” He raised his hand, pointing to one of the young women, “You, you are the innocent passerby trembling in the dark night, your eyes must be filled with fear, your voice must tremble—‘Ah, I'm so scared, who will save me...’ Just like that!”

The girl was startled, then covered her mouth and laughed.

Shen Mingyuan then pointed to a young man from logistics next to her: “And you, you are the fierce and evil villain! You must wear this—” He picked up a pre-prepared black hood from the table, “—then bare your fangs and claws in front of this girl, showing your ferocity! Make her scream! Let this dark night be shrouded in the shadow of sin!”

The young man took the black hood, his expression a little bewildered: “Uh... and then?”

“Then—” Shen Mingyuan straightened up, his eyes gleaming, “—that mysterious red Armored Man will appear in the darkness!”

He paused, crossed his arms over his chest, and slightly raised his chin.

“Because every true hero will not turn a blind eye to the cries for help from the innocent. And we will use this point. With the most classic trap—a trap of kindness—we will lure him out of the shadows.”

Wei Ziqing finally couldn't hold back and coughed at the door.

Shen Mingyuan turned his head and saw the three of them; the dramatic expression on his face receded a bit but still held a lingering sense of unfinished business.

“Oh, you're here,” he said. “I'm conducting actor training.”

Lu Jianchuan nodded: “We saw.”

Ye Ouyang quietly asked from the side, “So we're going to pretend there are bad guys bullying people to draw out the red Armored Man?”

“Precisely,” Shen Mingyuan walked over and patted his shoulder, “Smart.”

He glanced back at the staff members, then lowered his voice and spoke to the three of them:

“I've thought it through carefully. He only appears at night, specifically targeting bullies and villains. This indicates his strong sense of justice, or rather, his behavioral pattern has been set this way—whether innate or instilled.”

He paused.

“So we'll give him a scenario he can't refuse. A villain, a victim. He will come.”

Wei Ziqing thought for a moment: “What about the location?”

“That abandoned commercial street in the east of the city,” Shen Mingyuan said. “No one's there at night, but it's not far from where he's appeared before. Plus, half the streetlights are broken, so it's dark enough, like a crime scene.”

Lu Jianchuan nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “Then tonight it is.”

Ye Ouyang, standing nearby, suddenly raised his hand.

“What about me? What do I play?”

Shen Mingyuan glanced at him.

“You? Don't play anything,” he said. “This is your first time out with us on a mission like this; just watch from the side and get familiar with the process.”

Ye Ouyang put his hand down and quietly said “Oh,” but his eyes were still bright.

Shen Mingyuan turned back to the staff members in the room and clapped his hands.

“Alright, everyone, let's go over the lines again. You, remember your line—‘Help, someone's trying to rob me!’—Loudly, with that heart-wrenching feeling...”

Wei Ziqing and Lu Jianchuan exchanged glances and silently retreated outside the door.

Ye Ouyang followed them out, looked back at Shen Mingyuan, who was gesturing enthusiastically inside, and couldn't help but smile.

“Brother Shen is quite... that.”

“That what?” Wei Ziqing asked.

“Just... quite serious.”

Wei Ziqing glanced at him, said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Inside the room, Shen Mingyuan's voice came out again:

“No, no, your expression needs to be more frightened! Imagine a two-meter-tall Black Bear standing in front of you! Yes, yes, that's the look!”

—

The sky gradually darkened.