Seventh District, Area A.
This place and District F could be considered two extres. In District F, the most significant feature of the entire area might not be its filthiness, but its disorder, revealing a taste of neglect in planning.
Neatness, however, was the most prominent feature of Area A.
Here, there were only high-rise buildings about four hundred ters tall, around eighty floors each. The entire district was laid out like a chessboard, with each large building serving as a chess piece, each strictly eting size and height requirents.
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate—except for Huang Kong, Seks, and the headquarters of Hawk Eagle Group. These three buildings were very large and tall, located at the three ends of Area A, forming a tripartite balance of power.
There was also the villa district across the Gu River, where Jiang Shu used to live.
In Area A, sky bridges connected the high-rises, an intricate web of pipeline-like sky bridges linking most of the buildings, the routes complex yet constructed in strict accordance with planning regulations. If you lived here, you could easily tell your direction and which building each sky bridge led to.
Only vehicles could travel on the surface roads, with spacious four-lane main roads designated for cars and single lanes for motorcycles, although it was quite rare to see a motorcycle in Area A.
With no pedestrians and wide roads, vehicles on the ground often moved at very high speeds, reaching the driverless limit of eighty kiloters per hour even within the city.
At the sa ti, the work crowd made more use of a special mode of transportation known as the "Building Tram."
The Building Tram was unique to Area A, shuttling through the sky bridges between buildings every day like blood vessels ferrying the office workers to their workplaces.
The Building Tram stopped every ten floors, which ant that it was accessible only from floors like the tenth, twentieth... and so on.
Now, at half-past ten at night, an artist sat on the Building Tram, alongside so overtirs.
The artist had never been to Area A, so he alone looked out at the bright buildings and complex sky bridge routes through the tram’s window while the others had long grown accustod to the sight.
So neat... Area A is really great, whether in design or anything else.
He mused internally, for as an artist with a mild case of obsessive-compulsive disorder, everything here made him feel extrely comfortable.
He hadn’t felt this way before he ca here, but now, the artist thought he was ant to live in Area A.
He decided to use his savings to buy a house and settle in Area A, even though he knew that the identity checks were strict and that, after spending nearly half his life’s savings, he would probably only be able to afford an eighty-square-ter bachelor apartnt and probably still have to carry a mortgage.
It was said that when these bachelor apartnts were first built ten years ago, they were given away for free. Anyone from Area A could directly acquire an apartnt.
Now, however, they were outrageously expensive, but he felt that if he bought one, he definitely wouldn’t regret it.
Of course, the artist had a better way to settle in Area A—simply embrace the corporate groups, and he could easily achieve it. The value of a Key Master was enormous.
But he wasn’t willing to do that. After all, he was an artist—even if he always dressed impeccably, had a penchant for cleanliness, and suffered from OCD, he still cherished a life of unfettered freedom.
Those groups were really good at raising dogs. No matter how steadfast a person’s will, once they took the first step, they wouldn’t be far from barking.
The artist felt like spitting in disgust, but the trash bin was too far away and, besides, it had no garbage in it, so he let it be.
According to the intel from another Key Master nad "Baidu," the Fox lived in Area A.
That guy’s authority was similar to a search engine, but every question had to be paid for with Black Silver as the price. As for the answers, Baidu’s Secret Key had its own unique algorithm.
If it was an important question, the answer would be just a few sparse words, more like a riddle. But for simple questions, the answer could be very detailed, even providing the sources to refer to.
He tried to ask directly about the whereabouts of that kilogram of Black Silver but was told that questions involving Black Silver required an equal amount of Black Silver as a fee. In other words, asking about Black Silver would cost him at least one kilogram of Black Silver, which ant his trip would be for nothing.
Otherwise, Baidu would have already embarked on a treasure-hunting journey in the city and wouldn’t be running a Taro Hall fortune-telling shop in District F.
And as for the fox’s whereabouts, they ranked as dium difficulty, which was considered a service fee for their toil. Jiang Shu paid a hefty three hundred grams of Black Silver to get the answer.
"For one kilogram of Black Silver, it’s worth it," he gritted his teeth, fire alighting in his eyes.
"Approaching station 115 Building, 5th floor. Passengers wishing to alight, please exit quickly. The doors are about to close. Passengers near the doors, please be attentive to your clothing to avoid it getting caught. Passengers needing to transfer to other lines, please follow the platform indicators to your connecting train," the disembarking announcent of the train resounded.
The painter stood up, along with the office workers around him, and stepped out of the train.
Building 115 was a typical apartnt building. According to Baidu’s information, the fox lived here, in Unit Three on the seventeenth floor, room 1702.
He entered the elevator and pressed for the seventeenth floor, waiting quietly for the doors to close.
"Hold on a second!" Just as the elevator doors were about to shut completely, a slender hand blocked them.
A young boy squeezed through the doors, with a youthful and handso face. He pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.
"Mister, do you live in this building?" he asked the painter inquisitively.
"No, I’m here to see soone," the painter replied with precision.
"Oh." The boy nodded, "So late at night, who are you looking for? A girlfriend maybe? You must be visiting your girlfriend this late, right?"
"Right," the painter said with a smile.
"Then you’d better be careful," the boy suddenly warned with a serious expression, "Don’t get caught by the building manager. Our building manager here is really nasty, so nosy and always ddling. He’ll interrogate you about your identity thoroughly. If he finds out you don’t live here, you better have a good excuse ready, or you’ll be thrown out."
"Okay, thank you." The painter nodded in thanks and then watched as the numbers on the elevator indicator increased one-by-one, subconsciously starting to think about how to escape, should he encounter the so-called building manager.
The boy chuckled, his eyes narrowing like those of a sly little fox. He suddenly stepped forward, patted the painter’s shoulder with force, and looked into the painter’s bewildered, startled eyes.
"Relax, relax, sleep!" he commanded quickly.
"Ding—" The fifteenth floor was reached, the elevator doors opened, and the painter collapsed on top of the boy—the fox.
On the seventeenth floor, lived four burly n, none of them won.
The fox chuckled again.
Using the pleasant term "girlfriend" to relax him, and then ntioning the building manager, the man would surely start to consider what excuse to use subconsciously.
By interrupting his thoughts suddenly and applying the suggestion when his mind went blank...
Hypnosis successful.
Instant Hypnosis thod, quick and efficient.
The fox dragged the man out of the elevator and into the stairwell that was free of surveillance caras. He needed to heighten the man’s level of hypnosis here and modify his mory slightly.
After all, he had seen his own face and had also succeeded in finding his way here.
Arriving here for no apparent reason must an he is a Key Master or knows a Key Master.
The fox made his judgnt internally.
He sent a ssage.
"Take care of the elevator surveillance in Building 115."
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