15: Chapter 15 Contribution is not money

Shen Qinghe left the Xinhuo Hall and did not go home immediately.

She went to the hospital first.

Li Man had already woken up.

The doctor's diagnosis was excessive fright, sleep disorders, and mild dehydration. No one knew where she had sleepwalked for several nights in a row, and no one could explain the black mud on the soles of her feet that did not belong to the residential complex's flower beds.

Shen Qinghe stood outside the ward, watching Li Man curled up on the bed, her hands clutching the corner of the blanket tightly.

When Li Man saw her, the first sentence was not "Thank you."

She asked, "Officer Shen, is there still a person in my house?"

Shen Qinghe did not answer immediately.

It wasn't that she didn't want to tell the truth.

It was that she couldn't.

Say yes? Li Man would collapse. Say no? Li Man had indeed almost been dragged away by the mirror.

In the end, Shen Qinghe just pulled up a chair and sat down.

"That mirror has been dealt with. Don't buy old items of unknown origin again, especially mirrors."

Li Man's eyes turned red instantly.

"I thought I was crazy."

This sentence weighed heavier than "Thank you."

Shen Qinghe had been a listener for many victims reporting cases. Some cried, some cursed, and some repeatedly asked why it was them. But this time, she found that even her comfort felt clumsy.

Because she knew Li Man wasn't crazy.

What was truly crazy were the things emerging from the other side of this world.

After leaving the hospital, Shen Qinghe sat in the car and didn't start it for a long time.

On the passenger seat lay the convenience store rice ball she had just bought; it had already gone cold. She unwrapped it and took a bite, tasted nothing, and wrapped it back up.

She looked at the inner side of her right wrist.

The Mark of the Torch had faded into her skin, leaving only a faint warmth.

She recited her personal profile in her mind.

[Member: Shen Qinghe.]

[Authority: Apprentice.]

[Current Contribution Points: 51.]

Fifty-one points.

This was not money.

Nor was it a medal of honor.

It was a record that she had approached an anomaly twice and still managed to come back alive.

At the same time, Zhao Ye was sitting in a twenty-four-hour convenience store.

In front of him sat a cup of untouched hot coffee.

The wound on his right hand had already been treated; the light in that temporary medical door in the Xinhuo Hall was very cold, and the treatment process was very quiet. There were no nurses, no doctors, just a cyan glimmer that swept over the wound, and then the pain receded bit by bit.

Zhao Ye had seen many medical devices before.

But no device would wait for him in the grey mist hall.

He took out his phone and opened the memo.

First, do not look directly at the anomalous mirror surface.

Second, do not respond to auditory inducements.

Third, anomalies might not attack the body first; they might attack judgment first.

Fourth, the Fire Keeper's support is rare, but every sentence is crucial.

Writing up to here, he paused.

Then he added a sentence.

Fifth, do not treat the Xinhuo Council as a life-saving straw.

This organization would indeed save people.

But it was not a nanny.

Zhao Ye knew very clearly that if he made the wrong choice tonight due to fear or greed for merit, the Fire Keeper might not have time to pull him back a second time.

This feeling was cold.

But it also made him feel at ease.

What one fears most on the battlefield is not danger, but chaotic orders.

The Xinhuo Council at least laid out the dangers and costs clearly.

He closed his eyes and similarly checked his personal profile.

[Member: Zhao Ye.]

[Authority: Apprentice.]

[Current Contribution Points: 69.]

Sixty-nine points.

Thirty-one points away from the physical enhancement reagent.

Zhao Ye looked at that number and suddenly chuckled.

"It really is like saving money."

After laughing, he felt it wasn't right.

This was not money.

This was a ticket bought with his life.

In the Xinhuo Hall, Lu Chen was organizing the backend data.

[Available source essence: 11.]

[Registered Members: Shen Qinghe, Zhao Ye.]

[Shen Qinghe: Apprentice, current contribution points 51.]

[Zhao Ye: Apprentice, current contribution points 69.]

[Redeemable Inventory: spirit sight talisman 2, low-level hemostatic agent 3, low-level protection talisman 1.]

[Viewable but not redeemable: physical enhancement reagent, Seer seed, Iron Oath-taker seed.]

Lu Chen built a separate backend table.

Roles, contribution points, inventory, source essence, buildings, task records, all separated.

He could accept that the Xinhuo Council was poor right now.

But he could not accept messy accounts.

Contribution points were not money and could not be distributed carelessly.

They were qualifications, screeners, and tickets for members to continue moving forward. If he gave too many, members would underestimate the risks; if he gave too few, members wouldn't see growth.

This balance was hard to strike.

But Lu Chen was very familiar with it.

Simply put, it was still version economy.

It was just that in the past, if the values collapsed, at most the players would scold the planners for not acting like humans. Now, if the values collapsed, people would actually die.

He let Zero start filtering for new anomaly clues.

Countless streams of information flowed through Qinghe every day: forums, short videos, news comment sections, local group chats, help-seeking posts, second-hand trading platforms, hospital records, and police reports.

Most of it was noise.

Some people made up stories, some sought traffic, some described insomnia as encountering ghosts, and some wrote about neighbors arguing as ghost soldiers passing through.

But among the junk information, there would occasionally be a real anomaly.

This was very similar to fishing for valid bugs from massive player feedback.

Only this time, the bug would eat people.

A post was marked in red.

[Has anyone bought an old clock from this seller? I suspect it tells time on its own.]

The original poster said they bought an old-fashioned floor clock on a second-hand platform, and every night at 2:17, the clock would ring once. After it rang, something would go missing from the house.

The first night, a cup went missing.

The second night, a book went missing.

The third night, a photo went missing.

The fourth night, they discovered that a digit from the date of birth on their ID card was missing.

The comment section was full of "hahaha."

Lu Chen couldn't laugh.

2:17.

Recurring times can never be treated as coincidences in anomalous events.

He clicked on the seller's homepage.

Seller nickname: Bai Ya Old Goods.

Lu Chen looked at this name, his brows slightly raised.

Bai Ya.

A candidate for the intelligence line, showing up on their own?

He didn't send a grey message immediately.

The first two members were a criminal police officer and a veteran, whose bottom lines and ability to act were relatively clear. Someone like Bai Ya Old Goods was different.

Smart, sensitive, restless, and possibly not clean-handed.

If used well, such a person could be an intelligence network.

If used poorly, they would be an internal mole in training.

Lu Chen wrote a few lines in the observation file.

[Candidate Observation: Bai Ya Old Goods.]

[Observation Objective: Confirm whether they are actively contacting anomalous transaction chains.]

[Risk Tag: High curiosity, high tendency to conceal, possibly possesses network tracking capabilities.]

He didn't send it to Shen Qinghe and Zhao Ye.

They had just gone through a mission and needed rest.

The Xinhuo Council couldn't turn into a makeshift crew where two people worked around the clock.

Lu Chen looked at the empty member list and sighed.

"There are still too few people."

"But we can't recruit indiscriminately."

Torch was not a welfare institution.

Nor was it a guild with unlimited recruitment.

It was more like a fire.

It could light up the night road, but it could also burn those who shouldn't touch it.

The post refreshed.

The original poster posted another picture.

In the photo, the dark brown old-fashioned floor clock sat in the corner of the living room, its hands stopped at 2:17. Reflected in the clock's glass was the shadow of the person taking the photo.

Beside the shadow, there was also a hand resting on the photographer's shoulder.

The Core of the Torch floated up a new prompt.

[Detected residual anomalous transaction chain.]

[Suggest establishing an intelligence node.]

Lu Chen looked at that line of text and tapped the stele lightly with his finger.

"It seems the next version will open the intelligence System."

Deep in the grey mist, a grey message that had not yet been sent slowly took shape.

Recipient: Bai Ya.