Chapter 2: Black Cat's Response

  Location: Science Castle, Thunderhawk's Quarters

  Time: Late night on the third day after first contact

  Science Castle's nights were a meticulously concocted silence. Only the ventilation system's low breathing sounds, and occasionally from within the walls, the sound of energy flow like a giant creature's heartbeat. Thunderhawk lay on his narrow quarters bed, eyes tightly shut, but his consciousness not completely asleep. He was reviewing the past three days' observations: abnormal nodes in energy flow direction, patterns in security patrols, and those several scientists' faces that seemed particularly agitated during disputes.

  Suddenly, an extremely subtle vibration arose—not from the outside world but acting directly upon his auditory nerves. Like someone, from a distant end, gently tapping on his eardrum with fingernails.

  It had come.

  Thunderhawk didn't immediately open his eyes, but instead sank his consciousness into his cyberbrain's core interface. Normally this was an orderly data stream corresponding to his sensory input and internal computations. But now, in an area that should have been an empty buffer zone, a line of elegant, almost eerily white text appeared, in the language most familiar to him:

  "Three cod nutrition bars? Mr. Crow, your offering is rather shabby. And the West District's abandoned automatic fish market freezer—the smell really isn't great."

  The information was directly imprinted on his visual cortex, bypassing the eyeball. Thunderhawk's heart jolted. According to the garbage sorting rules, that package would be dumped into that old freezer, but Black Cat had not only received it but precisely delivered the information directly into the highly private interior of his cyberbrain. This intrusion capability far exceeded rumors.

  He attempted to respond with his thoughts, focusing his consciousness on forming text: "Conditions are limited. Can we still do business?"

  "Talk? Of course." New text appeared, the speed unhurried yet carrying a playful tone like a cat toying with a mouse. "Science Castle, Chaldea Tech's pretty cage. B-level authority is indeed like being blind. What do you want to see? Project Noah's financial statements? Or which doctor's private diary?"

  "Authority. Higher-level ID card access authority, preferably able to approach the core data area." Thunderhawk kept his thoughts concise and direct. "The price?"

  "First, I'm somewhat... interested in this case itself. Science Castle's recent 'flavor' is quite special." The text paused as if savoring. "Second, standard fee—I'll give you a figure in a moment, guaranteed to give you a heart attack. Third, old rules—'Observer Protocol.'"

  "Monitoring code." Thunderhawk's thoughts rippled with a cold wave. This was the most unsettling part.

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  "Relax, just a small 'journal' program." Black Cat's text carried a smile. "It will just quietly watch what you see, hear what you hear. Won't read your thoughts, won't control your actions—I have no interest in that. When the commission ends, it and the recorded data will disappear together. You can think of it as... an extremely picky audience who just wants the most authentic first-hand experience. After all, the best stories often come from the experiencer's perspective."

  Thunderhawk fell silent. Allowing an unknown code left by the world's most dangerous Black Cat to enter his brain was tantamount to opening the most vulnerable back door to his soul. But to obtain Black Cat's help, this was an unavoidable condition. He thought of the NRCan's vague commission, thought of the unsettling energy hum deep within Science Castle.

  "I accept." He finally responded.

  "Wise choice. Then let's first resolve a small problem..." The text's style suddenly changed, from playful to sharp. "Mr. Thunderhawk Morningstar, or should I address you... NRCan Special Investigator?"

  Thunderhawk's cyberbrain seemed to instantly overload, a chill shooting straight from his spine to his crown. His most deeply hidden identity—the other party had revealed it with one phrase!

  "No need to be surprised. The 'Crow' codename is too new, too clean, which instead arouses suspicion. Following the one-time node you sent the request from in reverse trace—though the path jumped hundreds of times and was wiped fairly clean—the final signal source still vaguely pointed to residual fluctuations from an encrypted frequency band within the NRCan. Add to that your unusual focus on Science Castle's energy consumption... coincidentally, I've also recently noticed the abnormal grid load there. Several coincidences together are no longer coincidence."

  Black Cat's text dissected his disguise like a scalpel with precision. "So, let's start over. Client: Thunderhawk, NRCan-commissioned Private Investigator. Objective: investigate Science Castle's true energy usage, possibly involving illegal high-energy projects (like... nuclear weapons? Quite an imaginative guess). Requirements: ID card authority elevation for in-depth investigation. Correct?"

  Thunderhawk felt a sense of naked exposure. Before Black Cat, he had almost no secrets. He took a deep breath, responding in thought: "...Correct. Since you know, you'll still take this commission?"

  "Take it, why not?" Black Cat's tone returned to casual. "This makes the story even more interesting. The collision of official forces with underground conspiracy... I'm very much looking forward to what drama unfolds next. Now, relax your neural interface—resistance might cause unnecessary 'rejection reaction.'"

  Without waiting for Thunderhawk to make further preparations, he felt an extremely slight itching sensation from his nape's cyberbrain interface, as if cold thin streams were seeping in. The edges of his vision began flickering with pale purple, indescribable data patterns, and a faint white noise like an old radio tuning played in his ears. This process lasted about ten seconds.

  Then, all abnormalities disappeared. His cyberbrain interface returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. But Thunderhawk knew something had moved in. A silent "observer."

  "'Journal' program activated. Fee statement and preliminary intelligence gathering directives will be sent to your encrypted buffer later. Have fun in the hive, Mr. Thunderhawk. Remember, I can see now."

  The text finally appeared, then dispersed like mist, leaving no trace.

  Thunderhawk opened his eyes; the quarters ceiling was blurry in the darkness. He raised his hand to touch the interface at his nape—skin smooth, no abnormalities. But an unprecedented sense of being watched, like a bone-attached maggot, tightly coiled around him. He was no longer alone groping in the darkness, but he had also paid part of his self as the price.