24: Chapter 24 This is not a live broadcast, this is God's proclamation.

8:00 PM.

This was the most bustling, lazy, and lively time in Jianghai City.

corporate slaves, exhausted from the day, slumped on their sofas with takeout in hand, staring blankly at their TV screens. Taxi drivers took advantage of red lights to unscrew their thermoses and sip strong tea, glancing at their in-car radio displays. On the pedestrian street, massive LED billboards looped brainwashing endorsements from a popular idol.

Jianghai TV, News Studio.

The star anchor, Fang Ruo, sat upright in a well-tailored professional suit, a flawless professional smile fixed on her face.

Though she still felt nauseous thinking about the foul-smelling cleaner she’d encountered in the elevator that morning, at this moment, she was the voice of the city.

"...According to the latest report from the Public Security Bureau, the police have increased the reward for Qin Feng, the suspect behind several recent panic-inducing incidents in the city, to..."

Fang Ruo read the script on the teleprompter with perfect pronunciation.

Suddenly.

*Zzt—*

A sharp burst of microphone static exploded without warning.

A piercing noise blasted through Fang Ruo's earpiece, making her brow furrow in pain, nearly causing her professional composure to collapse on the spot.

Immediately following that.

The monitor screen in front of her began to shake violently.

It wasn't just her monitor.

Televisions in thousands of households, giant screens on mall exteriors, mobile TVs in subway cars, and even small advertisement screens on the back of taxi seats...

In the exact same second.

Every single one of them went to static.

The originally clear news footage was swallowed by countless chaotic snow-like dots, looking like millions of white ants crawling frantically across the screens, emitting a heart-palpitating "shasha" sound.

"What the hell? Is the TV broken?"

"What's going on? I was just getting to the good part!"

"Mom! Stop hitting the TV, it looks like a signal problem!"

The entire city was in an uproar.

Before the citizens could even figure out if this was the fault of the SARFT or if their own TVs had finally kicked the bucket.

The static abruptly stopped.

The screens went black.

A deep, pure black, as if it could swallow light itself.

Then, a line of eerie green code flowed through the darkness like the digital waterfall from The Matrix, finally converging in the center of the screen into a pixelated pattern.

It was a face.

A clown’s face with an exaggerated, bloody, gaping mouth, wearing an expression of mockery, madness, and chaos.

Below it was a line of pulsing English text:

[Hello, Jianghai.]

...

Jianghai City Police Headquarters, Command Center.

The air here was no longer just frozen; it had been completely sucked out.

The hundreds of small screens that were supposed to be monitoring the city's traffic in real-time had all turned into that mocking clown face.

Those wide, grinning mouths seemed to be laughing silently at every police officer in the room.

*Crack!*

A sharp sound broke the suffocating atmosphere.

The thermos that had accompanied Zhao Shanhe for many years finally failed to survive this ordeal. The body of the cup was severely deformed, its stainless steel shell crushed by his bare hand. Scalding goji berry water flowed through his fingers and onto the floor, turning the back of his hand bright red, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Cut the network!"

Zhao Shanhe squeezed a beast-like roar from his throat, the veins on his neck bulging like writhing earthworms. "Cut the signal source! Pull the main breaker! Fast!"

The Technical Chief was drenched in sweat, his fingers flying across the keyboard so fast they nearly threw sparks, his face as white as paper. "Di... Director! We can't cut it! The other side hijacked the low-level transmission protocols directly! This... this is a god-level intrusion! Our firewall is like wet tissue paper in front of him!"

"Bastard!" Zhao Shanhe kicked a chair over, his chest heaving violently. "He's provoking us! This is an outright declaration of war!"

...

TV Tower, Top-Floor Core Server Room.

Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the night view of Jianghai City was as brilliant as a galaxy, with traffic flows merging into ribbons of red and yellow light weaving between skyscrapers.

Qin Feng stood before the window, his back to the rows of frantically blinking server cabinets.

He had already torn off the fake beard and black mole he used for disguise and shed the blue work uniform that smelled of toilet cleaner, revealing the faded black T-shirt underneath.

Though his clothes were simple.

At this moment, framed by the city beneath his feet, his silhouette appeared incredibly towering.

The technician who had just been dumbfounded by the system code was now huddled in a corner, hands over his mouth and eyes wide as saucers, not even daring to breathe loudly.

He had seen with his own eyes how this man, using only a USB drive and a few keystrokes.

Had brought the entire city to a standstill.

What was this?

This was the King of the Cyber Era!

Qin Feng took a deep breath and adjusted his breathing.

In reality, he was freaking out inside.

"System, are you sure these lines are okay?" Qin Feng complained frantically in his mind. "This is way too chuunibyou. Can't we change it to something more down-to-earth? Like 'Has everyone eaten yet?' or something?"

[Ding! Detected that the host is performing the S-rank mission 'Coronation of the Throne'.]

[Please perform strictly according to the script. Any OOC (Out of Character) behavior will result in mission failure and the forfeiture of all rewards.]

[Current Popularity: 230 million. Please begin your performance.]

"For the money... I'll do it!"

Qin Feng gritted his teeth and turned around.

He pulled over an executive chair and sat down directly facing the camera blinking with red light.

His movements were slow and deliberate.

He raised a hand, his slender fingers gently straightening his slightly messy collar, and then he faced the lens, revealing a smile he had practiced countless times.

Three parts elegant, three parts cold, and four parts nonchalant.

The next second.

On every screen across the city, the pixelated clown face vanished.

In its place was Qin Feng's face in high definition—so clear that even his pores were visible.

No mask.

No concealment.

He appeared just like that, brazenly, in the sight of tens of millions of people.

"Good evening, Jianghai."

Qin Feng's voice was transmitted through top-tier broadcasting equipment; it was deep, magnetic, and carried a metallic texture that echoed in every corner of the city.

"The night is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

*Boom!*

In an instant, the entire city reached a boiling point.

On the pedestrian street, countless young people holding up their phones to film began to scream.

"It's him! It's Qin Feng!"

"My god! That look! That aura! This is a fugitive? He looks more like a top-tier idol who just finished a concert!"

"You guys don't understand! When his eyes swept over just now, I felt my heart skip a beat! This is too dreamy!"

"Where is he? The background is a floor-to-ceiling window... He's looking down on us!"

The bullet comments were like an avalanche, flooding the screens so fast the servers instantly overloaded.

[The Bandit Godfather! This is some serious status!]

[This move was so slick my scalp is tingling! Are the police officers doing okay?]

[Have the fast-acting heart pills I bought arrived yet? Send a box to Director Zhao!]

Qin Feng couldn't see the comments, but he could imagine the frenzy.

He crossed his hands, resting them casually on his knees, and leaned forward slightly, as if chatting with an old friend—or perhaps like he was examining a flock of lambs waiting to be slaughtered.

"I know there are many people looking for me right now."

Qin Feng's gaze drifted toward the bottom right of the lens, his lips curling up in a smirk that made Zhao Shanhe's blood pressure skyrocket.

"Thousands of police officers, armored vehicles, helicopters... quite a grand display."

"But I must regretfully inform you all... you're late again."

In the command center, Zhao Shanhe felt his temples throbbing as if a war drum were beating inside his head.

"Locate him! Find his location!" Zhao Shanhe roared until his voice went hoarse. "Background noise! Lighting! Angles of reflection! Find out where he is!"

In the corner, Xie Qingshang had remained silent.

He stood before the large screen, arms crossed, his eyes behind his lenses fixed intently on every micro-expression on Qin Feng's face.

"Don't waste your energy."

Xie Qingshang spoke suddenly, his voice cold and clear, like a bucket of ice water poured over the heated command hall.

"He's at the TV Tower."

Zhao Shanhe whipped his head around. "What? How do you know?"

Xie Qingshang extended a finger and tapped his ear.

"The sound of the wind."

"Even though he's using a noise-canceling microphone, in the gaps between his words, you can still hear extremely faint high-frequency wind shear. That frequency of wind noise is only produced at altitudes above four hundred meters, when airflow hits the sharp edges of a building."

"In this city, there is only one place that fits that height and can access the city-wide signal."

Xie Qingshang pushed up his glasses, his gaze instantly becoming as sharp as a blade.

"Furthermore, he's waiting for us."

On the screen.

Qin Feng seemed to have had enough of the pleasantries.

He slowly withdrew his smile and leaned back against the chair, his eyes instantly becoming as deep as an abyss.

"This game has become a bit boring by now."

Qin Feng raised his hand and glanced at a non-existent watch on his wrist (he was actually looking at the system countdown).

"So, I've decided to add a little prize for this city."

He held up three fingers.

Slender, pale, and well-defined.

"Three hours."

Qin Feng's voice became gentle, like a lover's whisper, yet it sent a chill from the soles of everyone's feet straight to their skulls.

"In three hours, I will take one thing from this city."

"Something... that all of you treasure as a precious gem, yet discard like old shoes."

The entire city went dead silent.

Everyone held their breath.

What was he saying?

A notice of intent?

Like Kaito Kid?

Take something? What?

A bank vault? A national treasure from the museum? Or Director Zhao's official post?

"Care to guess?"

Qin Feng seemed to see through the confusion of the crowd before their screens.

He suddenly leaned closer to the camera.

His handsome face magnified instantly on the screens, the intense pressure almost overflowing from the displays.

"I'll give you a hint."

He raised his hand and tapped his fingertips three times on the table.

*Thump, thump, thump.*

The rhythm was eerie and heavy.

"It is ethereal, yet heavy."

"It can buy everything, but it cannot buy a cure for regret."

After saying this.

Qin Feng stood up and gave an elegant bow toward the camera.

Like a magician who had just finished a perfect performance, taking his final bow for the audience.

"These three hours are for you... the final carnival."

"Sweet dreams, everyone."

*Click.*

The feed was abruptly cut.

All the screens returned to a dead, silent black.

Only that final smile remained like a brand, deeply etched into everyone's retinas.

...

Inside the core server room.

Qin Feng pulled out the USB drive and let out a long breath, feeling his back drenched in cold sweat.

"Man... those lines were so embarrassing..."

Qin Feng wiped the sweat from his forehead. That "god looking down on mortals" aura collapsed instantly, and he reverted to the worker who just wanted to take his money and leave.

"This damn system. If it ever makes me act in a romance drama, I'll definitely end up as one of those poker-faced overbearing CEOs."

He turned around and glanced at the technician who was still slumped in the corner, completely petrified.

"Uh, hey..."

Qin Feng scratched his head and pointed toward the door. "Can I get through?"

The technician jerked as if he’d been hit by an electric shock and scrambled up.

He didn't call the police, nor did he scream.

Instead, he looked at Qin Feng with a gaze that was fanatical to the point of being twisted, as if looking at a deity.

Then.

With a *thud*.

This top student who had graduated from a prestigious university actually fell to his knees.

"Ma... Master!" the technician stammered in excitement, still clutching a network cable. "That hijacking protocol just now... can you teach me? I'm willing to pay tuition! You can take any server in this room you want! If that's not enough, I'll go steal some for you!"

Qin Feng: "..."

Why are people these days getting weirder and weirder?

I'm a bandit, hey! Shouldn't you be trembling and calling the police? What's with this thirst-for-knowledge gaze?

"I can't teach you. It's talent."

Qin Feng waved his hand enigmatically (actually because [God-level Hacking Technique] was given by the system, and he didn't even recognize a few lines of code himself).

He walked over to the cleaning cart, picked up that dirty baseball cap, and pulled it over his head.

Instantly.

That peerless "Joker" disappeared.

In his place was once again that hunched-over, timid-looking middle-aged cleaner.

This seamless transition in acting left the technician dumbfounded once again, screaming inwardly: This is what you call professional! This is what you call hiding in plain sight!

"I'm off."

Qin Feng pushed the creaking cart, his steps feeling a bit weak.

Because he heard it.

The sound of dense sirens coming from downstairs, and the roar of helicopter rotors tearing through the air.

That guy Xie Qingshang has a nose sharper than a dog's.

"Three hours..."

Qin Feng pushed the cart out of the server room and into the elevator. Watching the numbers descend, his lips curled into a (this time, genuine) bitter smile.

"Well, the boast has been made."

"Now... how am I supposed to get away?"

...

Command Center.

Zhao Shanhe stared at the screen that had gone black again, his face so dark it looked like it could drip ink.

But he didn't lose his temper again.

After extreme anger came absolute calm.

"TV Tower."

Zhao Shanhe grabbed the radio, his voice as cold as a stone pulled from an ice cellar.

"All units, pay attention."

"No need to take him alive."

"If he dares to resist..."

A flash of ruthlessness crossed Zhao Shanhe's eyes; it was the killing intent of a veteran detective who had been thoroughly provoked.

"Authorization given... to shoot on sight!"

Xie Qingshang stood nearby, looking at the pixelated clown image frozen on the large screen.

He didn't stop Zhao Shanhe's order.

He simply pulled a piece of chocolate from his pocket, peeled off the foil, and put it in his mouth.

The bitter taste spread across his tongue.

"Ethereal, yet heavy..."

Xie Qingshang murmured to himself, his brow furrowed.

"Qin Feng, what exactly do you want to steal?"

"Or is this... just another trap you've set?"

Outside the window.

The night was as dark as ink.

An unprecedented storm was silently gathering in the skies above the city.