"The fire happened too long ago; it probably isn't related," Li Chengyi thought, finding the mysteries of Mist Street even harder to untangle.
"It seems...this painting must be what we're looking for," Sindra sighed, still visibly stunned by the revelation.
Everyone else was equally shaken, with a subtle sense of dread creeping over them.
Could it be that the Mist Street Dead End was actually the scene depicted in this painting?
The place they had ventured into—the gray, misty street that ensnared them in danger—was possibly sothing spawned from a painting. No one would have ever guessed that. Even those present found it absurd.
Sindra approached the elderly owner, determined to buy the painting and assuring him that money was not an issue.
But the old man was firm, protesting that it was an ancestral heirloom that wasn’t for sale.
"One hundred thousand!" Sindra said calmly.
"This is my grandfather's life’s work!" the old man replied heatedly.
"Five hundred thousand," Sindra offered softly.
"Are you mocking with your money!?" The old man’s face turned red with indignation.
"One million. That’s my final offer," Sindra stated.
The old man let out a heavy sigh, resignation settling over him. "Fine, fine. Since you all treasure this painting so much, I trust you'll treat it with care. If my grandfather were still alive, he would probably be delighted, knowing that soone would pay so much for his work. This is a validation of his art."
The team didn’t know what to say in response, unsure how to feel about the old man’s words.
anwhile, Li Chengyi, ever since the negotiation started, had been scrutinizing the details of the street in the painting.
"There!" His eyes suddenly fixed on a spot, and he lightly touched the canvas, his fingers landing on the base of a cent lamppost.
There, swaying gently in the wind, was a small grayish-white flower. It was exactly what he needed.
"Sir, are you absolutely sure you can’t rember the na of that comic book series?" After sealing the deal, Sindra couldn’t help but ask one last ti.
"No, I really can’t recall it, though I rember it had sothing to do with artificial intelligence. Back then, anti-AI sentint led to movents against technology, machinery, even intelligence itself. Anything involving electronics was shunned. The comic was likely created as a comntary on that," the old man replied with a laugh.
"Those tis... Probably all those books were destroyed, right?" Sindra mused, his eyes showing a hint of understanding.
"Yes. There was also sothing called the Unity League, which proclaid that the essence of technology was inherently evil," the old man nodded.
"Indeed, the Unity League’s central belief was that technology was created to breed chanical and intelligent life. The end of this path, they argued, would be the birth of a lifeform infinitely more powerful than humans, and we’re rely nutrients within a nurturing womb.
"So, they believed technology was anti-human, and that eventually, machines would eradicate humanity and rule everything," Sindra said gravely.
"The Unity League was likely the precursor to the terror organization Star Lake, right?" Song Ran interjected.
"Yes, the two are connected," Sindra confird.
"But why does technology have to lead to intelligent life?" Zhong Ying asked, struggling to see the logic in their ideology.
"That ties into the tech race," Li Chengyi explained.
"When I was in college, I read about it. The Unity League believed that international competition over technology and power would drive governnts to relentlessly pursue higher levels of tech, social efficiency, processing speeds, precision, and so on.
"In this race, the gap between nations with artificial intelligence and those without would only grow wider over ti. Advanced AI dramatically boosts research across many fields and possesses military capabilities far surpassing human capabilities. So…”
Li Chengyi paused.
"This compels every nation to pursue AI developnt relentlessly. The end result is that AI becos more refined, more powerful, evolving until it ultimately frees itself from human control and becos a complete lifeform," he finished.
"This is the essence of capitalism," Sindra sighed.
"Indeed, capitalists, like countries, are often caught in the sa trap, swept along by forces they can’t control," Li Chengyi nodded.
Though he’d specialized in horticulture in both his past and present lives, he’d read enough on the subject to recall so of the Unity League’s history.
"Let’s not dwell on it any further. Zhong Ying, check everything one more ti to make sure it’s intact, and then let’s go," Sindra instructed.
They had co here primarily to help Zhong Ying get through this crisis.
Now that they had located the source of the Dead End, the next step was to figure out how to escape it.
Zhong Ying stepped forward, carefully inspecting the painting from all angles. Once she was satisfied that it was undamaged, she asked the owner to encase it in a wooden box, securing it tightly with foam padding until the painting was sealed up securely.
After Sindra confird the transfer of funds with the old man, they quickly left the bookstore and climbed into the off-road vehicle.
The rest of the team followed closely, getting into the car.
Song Ran started the engine, slowly driving toward the villa.
"Now that we have the painting, how do we find an escape thod?" Sima Gui asked with a trace of uncertainty.
Inside the car, Li Chengyi glanced around and noticed that Zhong Ying was sitting with her head lowered, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, looking tense.
Both Sima Gui and Sindra were staring intently at the painting, deep in thought.
"In terms of escape thods, using the replication thod, we can determine the last person who interacted with the slot machine—or this painting, rather," Sindra said.
"Which would be Bai Feipeng himself, the last person," Sima Gui responded.
"So, the escape thod we need would be to replicate everything Bai Feipeng did," Sindra concluded. "But we don’t know exactly what he did before his final interaction with the painting."
"Then we should use the ice-breaking thod," Song Ran suggested.
"What’s the ice-breaking thod?" Li Chengyi asked, hearing the term for the first ti.
"It’s straightforward," Song Ran explained. "When there are no clues, and everything feels as frozen as an ice block, you take a hardline approach, forcing a change in the situation—breaking the ice, so to speak."
"And how exactly do you ‘break the ice’?" Li Chengyi asked, puzzled.
"Simple," Song Ran continued. "Usually, sothing major has happened in a Dead End, so we re-create that event. This tends to force the Dead End into a reenactnt mode."
"Reenactnt mode?" Li Chengyi seed to understand.
"Yes. In reenactnt mode, the Dead End reverts to its original state, revealing clues for an escape. Plus, the ice-breaking thod can speed up the Dead End’s fading process," Sindra added.
"By accelerating its disappearance, we weaken the Dead End. This is tied to what we call the connection objects. The ice-breaking thod can also involve destroying these objects to lower the Dead End’s intensity, causing it to fade more rapidly," Sindra explained.
A bad feeling rose in Li Chengyi’s chest.
"So, your ice-breaking thod… involves destroying this painting?"
"It’s the simplest thod. We’ve used it many tis. It’s effective at reducing a Dead End’s danger and complexity," Sindra nodded.
"Impressive, boss! Tossing a million-dollar painting like it’s nothing," Sima Gui praised without hesitation.
A glimr of hope appeared in Zhong Ying’s eyes, her tension easing slightly.
Only Li Chengyi thought of that small white flower…
"By the way, does a ‘connection object’ ever include a living person?" He suddenly thought of a question.
"Of course. The fewer connection objects, the less dangerous the Dead End becos," Sindra nodded. "Did that remind you of one of your past Dead End experiences?"
Li Chengyi nodded.
"The death of Aixi Corporation’s boss might have been beneficial for back then."
"Perhaps, though we can’t say for sure," Sindra sighed.
He reached over and handed the painting, now covered, to Zhong Ying.
"What we know for certain is that this painting is tightly connected to Mist Street. It’s a crucial connection object, so the choice is yours—whether to destroy it or not."
Zhong Ying hesitated as she accepted the painting.
"If I break the ice, will I survive?"
"No one knows. If the painting is indeed important to the Dead End, Mist Street’s danger might lessen significantly. But you should also know that the ice-breaking thod can sotis make things worse. We’ve seen that happen. So compared to the replication thod, ice-breaking is usually a last resort," Sindra said solemnly.
Zhong Ying fell silent, mulling it over.
The boss had been incredibly generous, letting her have control over a painting worth a million.
This gesture filled her with deep gratitude.
But what should she do now?
Li Chengyi wanted to speak up. As a third party, he didn’t want to see Mist Street’s Dead End undergo significant changes—he hoped that Mist Street would eventually reappear, with the white flower still there.
But if Zhong Ying chose to destroy the connection object and use the ice-breaking thod, what Mist Street would beco was anyone’s guess.
Whether his little white flower—the Mountain Red—would remain was a mystery.
The car jostled along the road as they drove on.
Zhong Ying clutched the painting fra tightly, biting her lip as her eyes flickered with indecision.
Ti passed slowly until they were close to the villa
.
"I’ve decided!" Zhong Ying’s eyes finally hardened with resolve.
"I’m going to burn it!"
"Recreating the fire incident, huh?" Sindra imdiately understood.
The others thought of the sa thing.
The mysterious fire from the past could well be connected to Mist Street’s Dead End.
After all, for so many years, Mist Street hadn’t only entrapped Zhong Ying—it had likely pulled in countless newcors.
Among those newcors, so may have escaped, and their thod probably wasn’t ice-breaking, since the painting remained in one piece, and most people weren’t powerful enough to attempt it.
So most likely, they had used the replication thod.
Everyone felt a faint anticipation.
Except for Li Chengyi, who opened his mouth, then sighed silently.
He couldn’t stand in the way of Zhong Ying’s chance to survive. In this mont, he could only remain silent.
Monts later, they arrived at the villa, heading to the rooftop in a circle.
Zhong Ying placed the painting on the ground, took the gasoline canister, and gently poured it over the canvas.
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