, Sequence 7 Research Institute

Deep underground, isolated from the outside world, in the S-level observation room of the Seventh Sequence Research Institute, the air was almost stagnant.

A pale blue light seeped from the walls and ceiling, creating a cold, surreal atmosphere.

On the enormous circular screen, multiple internal monitoring views of the "Crimson Bus" instance were displayed in a segmented manner. What was originally just a routine instance observation log had now attracted the highest level of attention from the entire research institute.

All the core members were present at the long table, but no one spoke. They even deliberately held their breath, leaving only the low hum of the equipment and the occasional, extremely uncomfortable, sticky sound from the screen, blurred by rules.

Bai Xu sat in the main seat, his hands clasped in front of his chin, obscuring the lower half of his face.

His short, jet-black hair was meticulously styled, but his signature, deep green eyes, as dark as the rules themselves, were now fixed on the largest split screen in the center—which was "live-streaming" everything happening inside the carriage.

The image is distorted and flickering due to the interference of rules, with eerie colors and distorted sound, but the white-haired, heterochromatic-eyed figure and his... way of handling "passenger requests" can still be clearly identified.

Clean and efficient? No. It was precise, cruel, and carried out with an almost artistic composure... a slaughter.

"Pfft—"

A finger pierced his throat, and blood gushed out.

"Snap...ripping—"

The head was twisted off and torn apart, with dark green and dark red liquid splattering everywhere.

Every action, every termination of a "demand," was like an invisible hammer, slamming into the hearts of everyone in the observation room. It wasn't the fear of the instance itself, but the intense shock and disbelief at the "player's" behavioral patterns and mental state.

"Well……"

The fat researcher, codenamed "Doctor," let out a suppressed dry heave, instinctively covering his mouth, his face turning pale.

He had seen countless bloody scenes in the ghost story dungeons, but he had never seen anyone participate in them in this way—it wasn't a struggle for survival, but more like... an enthusiastic "cleaning up".

With her hair tied in a high ponytail and dressed in a neat combat uniform, Hong Yuan stared wide-eyed with her mouth agape, oblivious to the fact that the record board in her hand had slipped to the ground.

"What the hell is this?!" She gasped, her voice trembling with shock, almost screaming, "Lin Chen! Quick! Investigate this person! Immediately! Right now! Is he some fugitive, undocumented serial killer? Or some extreme violent psychopath who escaped from a top-security mental hospital?!"

Her voice sounded particularly jarring in the silent observation room, and it voiced the most direct and "common sense" guess in the hearts of many present. Only a madman who completely disregards life and takes pleasure in killing could behave in such an environment.

Technician Lin Chen's fingers had already blurred across the control panel, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He was equally stunned by the visuals, but his professionalism forced him to suppress his discomfort and quickly retrieve the data.

"Facial recognition initiated... cross-referencing with databases... accessing the public security internal high-risk personnel list, globally known abnormal criminal files, and the mental health system's special marker database..."

The data stream scrolled frantically on the auxiliary screen in front of him, emitting a dense series of beeps. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the result.

A few seconds later, the rapid beeping stopped abruptly.

Lin Chen stared at the final feedback on the screen, his movements completely frozen, his expression shifting from tension to astonishment, and then to a deeper confusion and solemnity.

He slowly turned his head, looking at Hong Yuan, then at Bai Xu in the main seat. His throat bobbed, and his voice was dry:

"We found it...we found it."

"Speak!" Hong Yuan urged.

"Identity information exists. Name: Shi Mo. Citizen ID number: XXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Date of birth, place of residence... All basic information is complete, and the format perfectly meets the standards." Lin Chen spoke slowly, as if he needed to confirm each word.

"And then? Criminal record? Medical records? Reports of abnormal behavior?" Hong Yuan pressed.

"No." Lin Chen shook his head, his eyes behind his glasses filled with disbelief. "Nothing at all. No criminal record, not even a traffic violation. No medical records, not even a single visit or consultation. From birth to now, it's all a blank. No known family social network, no detailed enrollment or graduation records from educational institutions, only the system's note that 'the required educational stage has been completed.' His registered address is in an old neighborhood, but retrieving all the surveillance footage, community registrations, and neighborhood visit records from the past ten years... there's no record of 'white hair,' 'heterochromia,' or anything matching his physical characteristics. He's like... like he appeared out of thin air at that address, and only exists in the outermost layer of the citizen information database."

He paused, then added, his tone even more somber: "The file is so clean... like a freshly printed form, unfilled. Only format, no content. No trace of life, no numerical footprint, no past."

"How is this possible?" the doctor exclaimed. "Even a deliberately forged identity would be filled with details to make it more realistic! This kind of empty shell file should have been flagged as abnormal during the system's self-check!"

"But it didn't." Lin Chen pointed to a corner of the screen. "The system self-check is green, and the file validity verification has passed. It's like... it's like there's a higher level of authority that forcibly defines this identity as 'existing' and 'legal,' without requiring any evidence to support its 'existence.'"

The observation room fell silent again, even more so than before.

Hong Yuan opened her mouth, only to find that her previous guesses about a "murderer" and a "mentally ill person" seemed so pale and powerless in the face of such an extremely bizarre and "clean" file.

A white-haired, heterochromatic-eyed man with no past, no trace, yet capable of acting with absolute violence within the realm of strange and uncanny rules… This is more unsettling than any known “dangerous individual.”

Everyone's eyes instinctively turned back to the central screen. The image froze on a close-up of Shi Mo finishing off the third "passenger," wiping the blood from his hands, and then slowly raising his face.

Under the pale, flickering carriage lights, his face was stained with both old and new blood, his white hair was stained with dark red dirt, and his heterochromatic eyes—one a dark gold that seemed to burn with embers, the other a cold, translucent blood red—calmly gazed into the void, with a faint, almost pleasurable smile lingering at the corner of his mouth.

Against the backdrop of blood, that face presented a breathtaking, inhuman beauty and an eerie sinister quality.

Bai Xu's green pupils suddenly contracted.

He stared intently at the face, a sudden and inexplicable sense of familiarity gripping him. It wasn't the vague feeling of déjà vu, but something sharper and deeper... as if, at some extremely distant or extremely important moment, he had gazed intently at this face, at those heterochromatic eyes, up close.

where is it?

When?

Why can't I remember?

Fragments of chaotic thoughts clashed in his mind, yet he couldn't piece together any meaningful images or memory fragments. This feeling made him extremely uncomfortable, even causing a rare sense of irritability.

He forced himself to look away, squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, only absolute calmness and sharpness remained in them. He forcefully suppressed that fleeting, elusive sense of familiarity. Now was not the time to dwell on that.

"He's neither a murderer nor a mental patient," Bai Xu said, his voice low but instantly silencing any subtle commotion in the observation room. His gaze swept over the astonished faces of the crowd before finally settling on Shi Mo's figure on the screen.

"His 'cleanliness' is precisely the biggest anomaly. This file is either a perfect forgery at some level of technology or rule that we cannot understand, or..." He paused, a deeper glint of light flashing in the depths of his green eyes, "meaning that his 'existence' itself may contradict the 'rules of information recording' that we are familiar with."

He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the table, his tone resolute: "Find him no matter what. Prioritize him above all else. Red Kite, utilize all available ground informants and intelligence networks to investigate all unusual events, especially those involving 'peaceful violence' or 'rules being broken by unconventional means,' combined with the white hair and heterochromatic eyes."

"Yes!" Hong Yuan immediately accepted the order, her expression stern.

"Lin Chen, establish a special analysis team. This 'clean' file is the breakthrough point. We will trace any possible traces of information injection in reverse and analyze its underlying logic. At the same time, we will comprehensively monitor all undercurrents related to identity generation and information erasure."

"clear!"

"Shadow," Bai Xu looked at the tall, thin man who was almost blending into the background in the shadows, "your team enters 'Shadow Mode.' Once there's a clue, execute the highest level of 'Untouchable Observation.' Remember, your task is only to 'see,' to 'see' clearly by any means necessary, but absolutely, absolutely not to attract his attention. If he discovers you... don't confront him directly. Just tell him... that our Seventh Sequence wants to invite him to join us."

The shadowy figure nodded slightly and left the observation room silently, like a ghost.

The order was given, but the atmosphere in the observation room was far from relaxed. On the contrary, Bai Xu's serious attitude and those unusual instructions made the atmosphere even more tense.

Everyone realized that the being on the screen might be more than just a powerful awakened one or a troublesome anomalous individual.

Bai Xu leaned back in his chair, but his gaze involuntarily returned to that frozen close-up of a face. That damned sense of familiarity still lingered deep within his heart, like a hook submerged in water.

He shook his head, completely dismissing the inappropriate thought. Now, he was in charge of the Seventh Sequence, facing an unprecedented and extremely dangerous unknown variable.

"Shi Mo..." he murmured the name, his voice barely audible in the cold observation room, "What exactly are you?"

The man on the screen, seemingly separated by layers of rules and space, was completely unaware of the heavy storm he had caused. He simply waited with an unsettling calm and a faint expectation for the next "game" to begin.