Right on Target (TARGET)
This Punishment Zone experience lasted twenty-four hours, meaning Su Heting's real-world body had gone without food or water for a full day. He was ravenous, his hands and feet icy and numb from prolonged sitting.
Though the Chief harbored suspicions about Su Heting, she didn’t mistreat him. Dinner was the familiar soybean rice. Su Heting didn’t like it, but it was still decent fare—back in the tenement, he’d been living on instant noodles.
Su Heting wolfed down the soybean rice. Replenishing energy was crucial for him; there was no telling when he’d need to fight again. Staying fed was his basic requirement for himself.
The monk watched him with a pang of sympathy. “Slow down, there’s more if you want,” he said, then added self-deprecatingly, “At least I still have the authority to give you food.”
“What about my big plate of chicken?” Su Heting needled him.
The monk fell silent for a moment before replying, “Where am I supposed to find that much chicken for you? Last time, we even had to borrow the potatoes. Be grateful you’ve got rice—stop dreaming about a big plate of chicken.”
Su Heting ate quickly, polishing off the meal in minutes before downing three glasses of water. With his hunger sated, he exhaled deeply.
The Chief was nowhere in sight; only the monk remained. Meeting the monk’s concerned gaze, Su Heting’s mischievous streak resurfaced, and he began fishing for information: “How long did your previous undercover agents last in the Punishment Zone?”
The monk hesitated, unsure whether to answer.
“I did the math,” Su Heting coaxed. “My first time was five hours, the second twenty-four. Won’t the third time start at thirty hours? Even if my consciousness can hold up in the Punishment Zone, my body can’t.”
“It won’t go that far,” the monk reassured him, thinking Su Heting was genuinely worried. “Thirty hours is the maximum.”
—Got it.
Su Heting thought to himself.
Xingtian’s method of entering the Punishment Zone was indeed unrefined. They hadn’t yet developed nutrient tanks like those in the farms, making long-term immersion impossible. Undercover agents had to log out periodically to replenish their energy.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never met any other undercover agents,” Su Heting said. “Were they really all killed by Inspector?”
The monk rubbed his square jaw, looking somewhat bewildered, but his confusion didn’t last long. He waved a hand as if shooing Su Heting away. “Didn’t I tell you last time? They were all killed—every single one. That inspection system—” The monk still regarded Inspector as part of the system. “Don’t be fooled by its human appearance. At its core, it’s still a system. Can you reason with a system? All they want is to dominate the new world and enslave humanity.”
“But that’s strange, isn’t it?” Su Heting leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His unaltered black eye brimmed with skepticism. “By your logic, the Punishment Zone should be full of humans. Otherwise, who are the systems enslaving? They rely on the Punishment Zone.”
“There are humans in the Punishment Zone, but most are NPCs disguised by the system,” the monk replied weakly, struggling with the question. “To make the Punishment Zone realistic, they’ll do anything. Don’t fall for it. Like I said before, if you encounter a real person in the Punishment Zone, we’ll send you a message.”
The monk’s explanation contradicted Inspector team’s account. One of the two sides was lying, yet the monk’s demeanor didn’t seem deceptive.
Su Heting asked, "How long have you and Chief been involved in this?"
"Not involved—assigned, more like," Monk replied earnestly, not wanting to lie. "Half a month."
Su Heting pushed his bowl and chopsticks aside, visibly annoyed. "Ha—?" He raised his voice. "So last time, you two acted like you'd been handling this all along, but it wasn’t even your responsibility before?"
"We’ve been working hard too," Monk said, not understanding Su Heting’s frustration. "After we got the assignment, we pulled all-nighters memorizing the files. Especially Chief—she put in ten times the effort."
That wasn’t the point.
Su Heting pressed on, "Then have you two met any of the previous undercovers?"
Monk clicked his tongue. "They’re all dead. How could we meet them? We read the files. Xingtian’s records are meticulous, unlike you guys in Black Panther. We—"
Files could be faked.
Su Heting was almost certain of it.
Xingtian’s purpose in sending undercovers into the Punishment Zone wasn’t just to find Jue. They must have done something else—something that drove Inspector to kill without hesitation, even hunting them down across the entire zone without sparing a single one. Unfortunately, Inspector had glossed over the details, never giving him more information.
Su Heting recalled his first time logging in. Inspector’s murderous intent had been real—so real it still sent chills down his spine. What had made Inspector change his attitude? Was it really just because of the Time-Limited Hunt?
"...Xingtian is an organization with ideals. I’ve always believed that. Us and Black Panther—no, I’m not trying to provoke you, but the only comparison to Xingtian is Black Panther. We’re fundamentally different. I have to correct your bias against Xingtian. Xingtian would never—"
"Yeah, yeah," Su Heting brushed off the old man’s lecture. "Xingtian is a noble organization striving for a new world, unlike our corrupt old-world military special forces, Black Panther."
"Exactly," Monk said sternly, launching into an ideological lecture. "Amitabha. I’ve been meaning to tell you, Xiao Su—"
Su Heting cut in, "Who are you calling?"
"You. You’re young, aren’t you? Xiao Su," Monk said seriously. "Don’t let outdated values influence you. Black Panther had many unacceptable rules. Like your Aqi structure—it doesn’t align with—"
Su Heting was speechless but raised a hand to stop the old man. "It’s Eskimo structure."
Su Heting didn’t remember much, especially from the past. He only knew he’d worked for Black Panther because he’d uncovered it during an information check in the Colosseum. Before that, he’d only had a vague impression. He’d even looked up Black Panther’s records afterward.
Black Panther was the old-world military’s special forces, commanded by the war fanatic Fu Chenghui. They adhered to the Eskimo structure, dividing members into "lead dogs" and "sled dogs". Higher-ranked members were "lead dogs", enjoying the unit’s best resources, while lower-ranked ones were "sled dogs", left to scavenge the lead dogs’ scraps. They monitored and fought each other for missions and tests, with no loyalty between them.
"It’s downright inhumane," Monk added before suddenly remembering. "I heard Black Panther’s selection criteria catered to sociopaths... Your ID was 7-006, right?"
In Black Panther, the lower the number, the higher the member’s danger level.
Su Heting had already forgotten how he managed to score this particular license number. Meeting the monk’s complicated gaze, he fell silent for a moment before speaking in a cocky tone, “Yeah, impressive, huh?”
The monk wore an expression that clearly said, “You brat, not learning anything good—I must set you back on the right path.”
“Xingtian isn’t all that special,” Su Heting said. “Do you guys even treat Hybrids with respect?”
Though the monk kept a stern face, his imposing aura had already diminished by half.
“Pot calling the kettle black,” Su Heting reached out and patted the monk’s shoulder. “I’m heading out.”
The monk grew alert. “Where are you going?”
“Back to sleep,” Su Heting said, puzzled. “My vacation isn’t over yet.”
“No, you have to stay here.” The monk pointed at the ground beneath his feet, signaling that Su Heting couldn’t leave. “Have you forgotten? The three-day deadline set by Chief hasn’t passed yet.”
“So what you’re saying is,” Su Heting said, “until Chief deals with Wei Zhixin, I have to be a prisoner for the next two days?”
“It’s for your safety,” the monk replied, still crossing his arms. “That young boss Wei…” He thought of Viper’s arrogant attitude. “You two just don’t mix. It’s best you don’t cross paths until this is resolved.”
“And this is the big boss?” Su Heting mocked. “Making such a fuss over losing a match.”
“Raising a champion costs a fortune,” the monk said earnestly before sharing his recent findings with Su Heting. “I looked into it—Wei Zhixin hyped up Titan for a long time before that match. He bet on Titan every single time… Get it? It was all a setup. Once everyone was betting on Titan, that’s when Titan was supposed to lose.”
Wei Zhixin didn’t just want Titan to keep winning—he wanted to manipulate the arena’s betting system and profit off others’ losses. With so many Hybrid bodyguards at his disposal, he could’ve easily fielded someone like Viper for matches. But his obsession with Titan and King Shen wasn’t without reason.
“You made him lose big,” the monk said. “After spending so much to build up Titan but before he could be used, you defeat him and then you take down King Shen too—do you think he hates you?”
“Should’ve bet on the Mao—guaranteed win,” Su Heting leaned back in his chair, bored. “Playing dirty even in a match.”
The monk checked the time and stood up. “It’s about time. You should rest.”
“Here?”
“Someone will bring in a bed soon. The bathroom next door is open all night too,” the monk said, still uneasy. “Don’t wander around at night—the hallways are full of people on duty.”
Su Heting didn’t move. “Give me my phone back first.”
The monk pulled the phone from his pocket and tossed it to him. “Go to bed early.”
Only after the monk left did Su Heting power on the phone.
The device was an antique, taking forever just to boot up.
Su Heting opened his messages, seeing texts from Hermit and Jiali, along with a bunch of random ads from the trading floor. Still thinking about Viper’s modified eye, he went online to check—plenty of people were interested, but few were making offers.
It was a good piece of tech, but out of fear of Wei Zhixin’s influence, hardly anyone dared to buy it.
Scrolling down, Su Heting spotted a comment.
Asura: Selling? I’ll take it.
The comment was left before Su Heting entered the Punishment Zone.
Su Heting replied: Still interested? Selling.
It was almost eleven now, and Su Heting hadn’t held much hope—but the other person replied within seconds.
Asura: Contact me.
Su Heting added the account based on the details provided, only to find that the search result showed "This friend has already been added." He moved his thumb away and saw the note for this friend: "Xie Zhenshu."
Su Heting: ?
Su Heting: Are you Asura?
Xie Zhenshu: Mhm.
Su Heting: Do you have a problem with Wei Zhixin?
Su Heting: Wait, why not during a bath?
Xie Zhenshu’s reply came two seconds later: Where are you?
Su Heting didn’t respond.
As if realizing his question had crossed a line, Xie Zhenshu sent another message: =w=
Su Heting: .
Su Heting: Did someone hack your account?
Author’s Note:
① Eskimo Structure: The Eskimos exploited animal territoriality by dividing sled dogs into two hierarchies: lead dogs and pull dogs. The lead dog runs at the front and enjoys various privileges, such as eating alone, having the best kennel, and never being whipped. The pull dogs follow behind, hauling the sled—they are underfed, poorly housed, forced to fight for food, crammed together, and frequently lashed. The preferential treatment of the lead dog fuels resentment among the pull dogs, who constantly try to chase it down and sink their teeth into it.—Criminology: A Sociological Understanding
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