Chapter 68: The Supreme Authority (Part One)

Wang Chenghao was sitting cross-legged on the spacious bed, staking his claim as if it were his own territory, typing away with zest. The moment he saw Qin Ye enter, he leaped up at once. “Qin, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Qin Ye waved his hand and flopped onto the bed, a sudden emptiness washing over him.

Perhaps it wasn’t emptiness, but rather an anxious uncertainty about the path ahead.

He had actually joined the Special Investigation Group… With his shadowy identity… Even now, it felt unreal.

He felt a little restless, the clatter of Wang Chenghao’s rapid typing filling the room, as swift as lightning. Qin Ye frowned impatiently. “What are you playing at, Hammer? The internet’s down now, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t know?” Wang Chenghao was momentarily stunned, flipping the computer around. “The local network still works. The government just rolled out a temporary local forum. The whole internet’s blowing up over it.”

Was that so?

Qin Ye sat up abruptly, grabbing the laptop to check for himself.

It was clearly a makeshift forum, extremely barebones, yet… the number of posts had already reached three hundred thousand!

Bao’an City had a population of 3.2 million. In a single night, nearly one in ten people had posted!

“The truth about last night! Photos and videos! Only a hundred meters from the battle site!” — Little Goldfish.

This was a pinned post. Qin Ye clicked in.

First, a flood of images loaded, the speed not bad at all. There were countless military personnel loosing arrows from bows and crossbows, and talismanic flames exploding in the night sky.

“Look at this photo. Clearly, these arrows hit something. But what? I couldn’t see anything, not with my eyes or my camera! These flames only look like this if they’re hitting something invisible!” — Little Goldfish.

Beneath just this first image, thousands of comments had already piled up.

Qin Ye clicked on a few.

“I can’t believe it… I agree with the original poster! Is this some kind of weapons test?” — User 4738126.

“Doesn’t look like it. Maybe there’s something in human society we can’t see… and the military is protecting us?” — User 27184.

“Did none of you connect this to the ghost sightings last night?! I saw a ghost! I really did!! Our whole family curled up on the sofa, too scared to sleep! I swear I saw it!” — User 231234.

“It’s not just you, there’s been mass ghost sightings… I work at the neighborhood office, just visited the whole community. You’ve heard of Songjiang Estate? Two thousand people there, and thirteen hundred saw ghosts to some extent. We’re busy comforting everyone.” — User 12379.

Qin Ye scrolled to the next image.

It was still a scene of battle, but now showed many soldiers falling. Little Goldfish added, “I saw it clearly! One moment they were fine, the next they collapsed! I refuse to believe this was a military exercise—this was a fight against something invisible! What has become of our society?”

The comments below were just as frenzied: “Ghosts!” “Definitely ghosts!” “I saw one too… I went to the bathroom last night… ahhh! I don’t even want to remember! Agree with everyone above!” “+10086 to the original poster!”

Each image had at least three thousand comments. By the time it reached the video, comments shot past thirty thousand in an instant!

“We need the truth! I’m too scared to stay in Bao’an City! What’s really happening in the city where I was born and raised? Are there really ghosts?”

“Too scared to stay? Buddy, we tried to drive to Donghai Province at six this morning, but… all roads are blocked, no entry or exit. Got it?”

“Didn’t the government promise an answer in three days?” “You trust the government to tell the truth?” “True or not, I just want an answer! I’m too scared to sleep!”

There was no deletion of posts.

No moderators.

Qin Ye’s gaze flickered, and Arthas spoke softly, “Very clever.”

“They couldn’t cover up what happened last night—too many witnesses. People need a place to vent, and the internet is perfect for that. It also gives everyone time to process, planting the idea that ‘there are things in this world we cannot see.’ When the truth is finally revealed, it’ll go down much easier.”

Qin Ye nodded and continued reading.

The next most replied-to post was “In three days, the government will announce to the city. Guess—what’s the real truth?”

It was a poll.

Only two options.

First: Ghosts!

Second: Military exercise.

Seventy-six percent—over two hundred thousand people—voted for the first option.

This was silent guidance.

He could guess, even if some voted for option two, the government would tweak the numbers to make sure option one prevailed.

“Don’t get swept up in the frenzy. You know exactly what happened, but don’t spread it around. If even the slightest rumor gets out, I guarantee the Special Investigation Office will have you in for a ‘chat’ in a heartbeat.” Qin Ye handed the laptop back to Wang Chenghao.

“Understood, I haven’t said a word.” Seeing Qin Ye wearily shut his eyes, Wang Chenghao sidled closer and whispered, “By the way, Qin, just now… my bank card was unfrozen!”

Qin Ye pushed his big head away. “Got it, let me rest a bit.”

Wang Chenghao waited a while, but when Qin Ye didn’t respond, another two minutes passed and soon only the faint, steady sound of his breathing could be heard.

Wang Chenghao felt quite aggrieved.

Was there nothing left about him that could interest Qin Ye? Not even money could win him over anymore?

Time passed quickly. By the time Qin Ye woke, it was already seven in the evening.

He hadn’t woken on his own, but was roused by a loud broadcast.

The television in the room was on, playing the same announcement as the radio.

“Citizens, please remain calm. For the next three days, Bao’an City will remain under red alert. However, all aspects of daily life are assured—please stay home and avoid unnecessary movement.”

“In three days, the city government and a directly appointed minister from Yan Capital will come to Bao’an City to reveal… the truth you cannot imagine.”

“The city government guarantees that, however hard the truth may be to accept, since the founding of New China, the people’s military—and some others unknown to you—have always silently protected everyone.”

“When did this start?” Qin Ye asked hoarsely.

“Noon. The internet exploded. Posts have passed four hundred thousand.” Wang Chenghao tapped his bowl. “Qin, let’s eat first?”

Only then did Qin Ye notice the rich aroma filling the room; his stomach rumbled on cue.

At the center of the dining table was a bubbling hotpot surrounded by various dishes—tripe, goose intestines, meatballs, beef… as lavish as any restaurant spread.

“You ordered this?”

“Of course. I was about to puke from eating instant noodles!” Wang Chenghao took a swig of cola, eyes squinting with satisfaction. “Qin, what do you think will happen to Bao’an City?”

Qin Ye shook his head. He was equally curious—what would the nation do?

A sudden, unanticipated outbreak of supernatural events, affecting a whole prefecture-level city! The military, government, and cultivators had joined forces to withstand the century-old sea of vengeful spirits amassed by Cao Youdao, with even a provincial Inspector rushing to the scene… and likely other envoys from neighboring cities—he just hadn’t seen them.

The founding of a cultivation academy… Bao’an becoming directly administered… Those were the two clues he had so far. No matter how he looked at it…

“This time, it’ll probably be iron-fisted policy…” He exhaled, sitting down at the table. “A choice with no middle ground…”

With the winter hotpot, both of them ate to their heart’s content. Later, lying on the bed, they realized the television had no other channels, only Bao’an News, which was broadcasting last night’s casualties.

“…433rd Regiment, seventy dead, one hundred fifty seriously wounded, the rest all injured…”

“Municipal Public Security Bureau, twenty dead, two hundred seriously wounded, five hundred thirty-two with minor injuries…”

“…Special Investigation Office, seven dead…” “254th Regiment, eighty-three dead…”

Not only did they report the numbers, but footage accompanied it—both from the battlefield and the medical teams in the rear.

String after string of figures, with no explanation as to why these people died, yet everyone understood who had protected them last night. There was no mention of what they’d faced, but it had stirred the entire city into a united front.

Qin Ye picked up the laptop to check.

That morning, the forum had still been full of skepticism—doubts about the government withholding the truth, about being deceived. Now, the comments were almost unanimously supportive.

“Stability maintenance,” read a post from an ID with a wise-sounding tone. “The government could never tell the public the whole story. Honestly, I don’t want to know either. For once, I feel my taxes were worth it.”

“We’re alive thanks to these warriors… Sorry for always doubting the military’s capability.”

“What on earth did they fight? I’m scared now.” “Scared of what? The government said everything’s under control.” “But we’re still on red alert?”

The tide had shifted swiftly.

For a nation as ancient as this, how would it respond to such a crisis?

The capital of Yan had long since made contingency plans.

“Qin, you really haven’t heard any rumors?” Wang Chenghao whispered.

Qin Ye shook his head. As if anyone could leak something like this… Wait!

Suddenly, something occurred to him and he snatched up a phone.

“Huh? Who bought you that phone? Do you… have someone else?” Wang Chenghao was surprised.

“…Can’t I buy my own? And what do you mean ‘someone else’? I’ve always been… Get lost!!”

Wang Chenghao blinked, giving Qin Ye a once-over. “Seriously, with how poor you used to be—no, how frugal—you really splurged on a ceramic curved-screen phone? Do you even know what that is? This phone’s at least thirty-five hundred!”

Kid… if you weren’t so blunt, we could still be good buddies…

Qin Ye shot him a glare, and when Wang Chenghao tried to peek, he got a foot in the chest for his trouble.

Qin Ye quickly unlocked the phone. Like any other smartphone, it had the usual apps, but on the next screen, there was only a single app icon.

It was marked with a blood-red eye and a gleaming blade.

Just one word: “Sever.”

The brushstrokes were bold and fierce, like iron cavalry on a war-torn field.

He opened it immediately, and a line of text flashed: Audio prompt incoming, please use headphones.

He snatched a pair of headphones from Wang Chenghao, put them on, and tapped the screen. A voice sounded.

“Please unlock with your fingerprint.”

“The system is directly connected to Beidou and the River Styx mainframe. The database is infallible. First-time user detected, please register your fingerprint, then use it to unlock.”