People were already quite familiar with Jing Pei’s little mutt. Rumor had it that she rescued the stray from the streets. Even as she dragged it away to live a life of luxury in a wealthy household, the dog was still rummaging through trash cans for food.
Over the summer, people often spotted Jing Pei walking her dog. She brought the pup almost everywhere—on massive shopping sprees at pet boutiques, and even to banquets hosted by Atavist families.
Word spread that some of its food was flown into Hualan from abroad. Every single meal cost a small fortune, to say nothing of the custom designer clothes, backpacks, and accessories tailored just for the pup. Netizens grumbled that they lived worse lives than a dog.
It was common knowledge that the Long family’s young heir cherished her pet.
Look at that—even its bow tie was studded with diamonds, sparkling under the bright sun.
So, after the initial surprise of seeing the dog, onlookers found it hard to stay shocked.
[Damn, Long Baobei’s dog life is peak. It gets to see all the power players I’ll never meet in my lifetime.]
[I’m so jealous. Aside from not speaking human tongue, how is this different from a top-tier heiress?]
[This has to be the happiest mutt in Hualan.]
[Is it just an ordinary dog? No, it’s a dog raised by a dragon!]
The live comments filled with envious tears once again.
When reporters threw questions at her, Jing Pei replied with an easy smile, “I’ve spoiled it too much lately. It insists on following me everywhere and chased my car the whole way here. I had no choice but to bring it along.”
This was the plain truth, backed up by traffic cameras, even though she had planned the whole chase herself.
Jing Pei led the little mutt, Long Baobei, into the Great Hall. At the security checkpoint, two rows of armed soldiers stood guard alongside staff in Tribunal Division uniforms.
Beyond the standard metal detectors, several of the latest Atavist wave scanners stood ready. Even if someone tried to suppress their Atavist power, they would be exposed instantly.
The atmosphere was tense and imposing enough to make any criminal break into a cold sweat.
The little mutt tucked its tail, scanning the room before looking up at Jing Pei.
Is this really fine? Won’t they find out?
Mo Weiwei panicked. Although he only had his eyes attached to this dog, that cyborg man had used Atavist power to do the job. The dog definitely carried that man’s Atavist wave. Could they really bypass the scanners? If the machines detected an abnormal signature, the dog would be turned away, and Long Jin would fall under suspicion.
The moment they stepped onto the scanner platform, the machine beeped.
“There’s an Atavist wave on this dog,” the security guards whispered to one another.
See? I told you so! Mo Weiwei thought.
“Please wait. We need to perform a more thorough scan,” a guard said, looking tense.
Jing Pei nodded, waiting patiently.
Mo Weiwei blinked his black bead-like eyes.
“Are you sure we can fool them?” Jing Pei had asked the man with the gold earring in the morning mist.
The man nodded. “My Atavist power was only used to pluck and preserve the eyes, leaving just a thin coat. The rest of the signature is yours. Since I am a Cyborg, my Atavist wave mimics machine frequencies, which will confuse their scanners. Just make sure you cross the checkpoint within ten seconds, and they won’t notice anything.”
His name was Jin Ji, a Cyborg Atavist. Jing Pei had rescued him from a trash incinerator, and he had served her ever since. His ability allowed him to turn human bodies into machines, translating nerves into circuits he could dissect and rewire. Removing and reinserting organs was child’s play for him.
She knew his capabilities inside out, but she still played along, keeping up the act to make Mo Weiwei believe she was merely a partner to the mysterious information broker.
“How long does this last?”
“Three hours at most. We have to swap the organs back by then, or the kid’s eyes will stay on that dog forever.”
“Got it.”
Now, Jing Pei stood on the platform, glancing at her watch. Seven… six… five…
The scanners rapidly analyzed the Atavist waves of the living subjects on the pad. The guards stared at the display, looking back and forth between Jing Pei and the dog.
The monitor showed a Dragon Clan signature on the pup. The system assumed the dog had picked it up from spending so much time around its owner, or that the young heir had intentionally infused the diamond bow tie with her energy to ward off other Atavists.
Even so, the guard was a professional. He decided to hold them a little longer just to be safe.
Four…
Far away in the hotel, Mo Weiwei’s heart raced. He stood with his mouth open, forgetting to chew the soup dumpling Tao Ze had just popped inside.
Three…
“Ah, Xiao Jin, you’re finally here. Mr. President was just asking about you.” A smooth, melodic voice broke the silence. Mei Yanlan stepped up to the checkpoint, clad in her black Tribunal Division uniform.
Her crimson waves spilled over her shoulders, tucked under a black cap. Her sharp red eyes glinted beneath the brim, the tiny teardrop mole at the corner of her eye catching the light. On her left chest sat the gold crossed swords and scales emblem of the Tribunal Division.
Her arrival seemed to shatter the tense atmosphere. Jing Pei glanced at the guards.
Two…
With Mei Yanlan present and dropping the President’s name, the guards dared not stall any longer. They quickly waved them through.
One.
Jing Pei stepped off the platform, leading her dog.
Long Baobei was already fond of Mei Yanlan. It immediately wagged its tail and bounded over, licking her hand as she leaned down to stroke its head.
Mo Weiwei exhaled and swallowed his dumpling. His boss was a genius. Since he only shared his vision with the dog, the animal didn’t feel his anxiety, maintaining its usual playful behavior.
Even in a building crawling with the country’s sharpest minds, they wouldn’t get caught as long as Mo Weiwei let the dog run on its own instincts. He could tell Mei Yanlan was studying the pup with suspicion, but she found nothing out of the ordinary.
Finding nothing amiss, Mei Yanlan stood up. She found it strange that Jing Pei would bring a pet to such a serious event, but she figured the girl had a good reason.
“Come on, I’ll show you to the hall.”
“Is everyone here?”
“Just about. The conference starts in twenty minutes.”
Jing Pei followed Mei Yanlan into the hall with Chu Xusheng and Long Yiming.
The auditorium was massive, a fan-shaped amphitheater built to hold thousands. Powerful figures from the Atavist clans, the military, and the government filled the tiers.
They stood in small clusters, whispering among themselves, casting glances of rivalry, disdain, or curiosity at one another.
Jing Pei spotted several familiar faces the moment she walked in—her former classmates Feng Yilian of the Feng family, Wu Ying, Jiang Qing, Tang Qiaoqiao, Chen Mo, Tao Ying, and her quiet fiancé who had a habit of weaving hair cords.
Her eyes lingered on Tao Ying and her fiancé for a brief moment before shifting away.
Leaning down, she patted the slightly anxious dog’s head, mouthing a message only Mo Weiwei could read through its eyes: Use your smell, hearing, and that quantum-grade brain of yours to find what your boss needs.
Thanks to Jin Ji’s ability, Mo Weiwei shared the dog’s enhanced smell and hearing. For a boy who could see hidden details and possessed a super-computer brain, this was a massive boost.
Right now, this very hall housed a mystery number of major shareholders, top executives, and spies from the illegal organization.
In the novel, they had been mere background characters, mentioned in passing without names. Now, they were real people who plotted and killed.
To win this war, Jing Pei had to stay ahead. She needed information.
Across town, An Yan, assistant to the Tribunal Division Director, knocked hard on the apartment door. A moment later, Qiu Fa opened it, looking rather gloomy.
“Director, how are your injuries?” An Yan scanned him from head to toe. His boss only hid in this private apartment when he was badly hurt and wanted to heal in peace.
“I’m fine.” Qiu Fa turned and walked back inside.
An Yan followed. “Clearly. You even had the energy to buy canned tuna and apples.”
An Yan spotted the canned tuna and apples on the nightstand, missing the brief stiffness in his boss’s expression.
“Then you need to get dressed for work. With the conference today and the chaos last night, who knows what will happen. Also, yesterday—”
“Shut up.”
Qiu Fa had barely slept before dawn. Listening to his assistant babble made his head throb.
Opening the wardrobe, he looked at several identical Tribunal Division uniforms. He grabbed one and put it on, the black fabric stretching over his broad shoulders. It looked sharp and commanding, far more detailed than a standard officer’s uniform without being flashy.
As he adjusted his cap and reached for his baton, he paused.
His hand was large, his fingers pale and clean. The wounds from last night had already healed, leaving no scars.
The problem was, where were his black leather gloves?
An Yan had no idea what was happening, but he noticed his boss’s gloomy mood suddenly lift. Qiu Fa pulled out his phone, found a contact, and dialed.
An Yan blinked, sensing a strange eagerness in the gesture.
The call went straight to voicemail.
Once in the car heading toward the Great Hall, Qiu Fa tried calling again. Still no answer.
His irritation grew with every ring.
Finally, he tapped out a text.
Back at the hall, Wu Ying walked over quickly when she saw them. “Xiao Jin, why did you bring this little baby along?” She bent down to rub Long Baobei’s head.
Jing Pei looked past her at Jiang Qing, who was carrying Wu Ying’s bag. She noticed his pale face and smiled. “Your family seems to value your brother quite a bit,” she said, noting his presence at such an event.
“Just letting him see the world,” Wu Ying said with a shrug before changing the subject. “Where were you last night? Did you hear about Bubble 109?”
“I was visiting a friend. My second uncle and Cousin Qingyan told me about it. Wasn’t it resolved?”
“For now. But I have a bad feeling. The workers in Bubble 109 panicked last night and refused to stay. Evacuating them kept every family busy all night. No one slept, and everyone is cranky. Today is going to be a battlefield. Who knows what they’ll agree on.” Wu Ying frowned, clearly exhausted by the political drama.
Despite her haughty demeanor, Wu Ying hated political games.
A few more attendees walked in, and a sharp gaze landed on Jing Pei. She turned to see Lou Ting’s mother, Lou Ningzhou.
The Lou family had kept a low profile for years, rarely attending public events, but today was too important for them to skip.
Because of their angelic blood, they always carried an aloof, cold air. But with a six-winged angel in existence, the Lou family’s ordinary angels seemed dim in comparison.
Lou Ningzhou quickly looked away.
“Young heir, your pet is adorable,” a stranger said, coming over to chat.
As the most famous young prodigy of the past six months, Jing Pei drew eyes the moment she entered. Many wanted to make contact, and the dog made a perfect icebreaker.
None of them realized that the little mutt they ignored was busy using its senses and super-computer brain to strip them of every secret they held.
Twenty minutes flew by, and the conference was about to begin. Everyone took their seats.
Jing Pei’s watch buzzed. She opened her inbox to find two missed calls and a text from Qiu Fa.
She opened the message:
[Information broker. Where are my gloves?]
Jing Pei blinked, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
But this was no time to tease the cat.
The President and the Prime Minister entered, and the main event began.
