That night, in the mid-level apartment.
Lu Shen closed the door, locked it, drew the curtains, and stood still at the entrance for thirty seconds, confirming there were no anomalies.
He took off his suit, sat by the bed, and closed his eyes.
His consciousness drew inward, and a translucent interface emerged from the depths, radiating a faint blue glow.
Text appeared on the panel...
[Core Main Mission: Hunt the Traitor]
> Mission Status: Completed ✓
> Traitor Yu Ruoyin: Eliminated ✓
> Top Secret List: Intercepted ✓
> Exposure Risk Assessment: Zero
> Comprehensive Evaluation: S Grade
The panel continued to refresh...
[Mission Rewards Being Distributed...]
> Reward Type: Technology Intelligence Package
> Intelligence Level: Top Secret
> Loading... ████████████████ 100%
> Loading Complete.
In an instant, Lu Shen's brain was struck by a massive stream of information.
It was as if a door had been forcefully opened, revealing a vast room filled with blueprints, formulas, and process parameters, each sheet unfolding before him simultaneously.
The information infusion lasted about ten seconds, then stopped.
Lu Shen opened his eyes, his breathing noticeably quickened...
Because what he had received was the complete set of technology for the 5-axis Linkage CNC Machine Tool... design blueprints, core algorithms, servo control systems, material formulas and heat treatment processes for precision spindles, mathematical models for tool path planning, and the entire manufacturing process to build a 5-axis Linkage Machining Center from scratch!
In 1985.
Even 3-axis CNC machines were still struggling to break through, and the 5-axis Linkage was a strategic-level technology strictly embargoed by the Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export Controls, listed alongside nuclear weapons and intercontinental missiles.
Without it, it was impossible to produce turbine blades for aero engines, complex surfaces for nuclear submarine propellers, or reentry vehicle shells for intercontinental missile warheads.
A hand gripping the throat of Dragon Nation's industry... and what was now in his mind was enough to sever that hand at the root!
Lu Shen was utterly shocked, but he quickly forced himself to calm down.
The sheer volume of this data far exceeded the limits of any paper medium.
The algorithm code for the servo control system alone could fill an entire filing cabinet, and printing the full set of materials would require dense calculations.
And the memories in his brain would eventually fade and blur... a deviation of a decimal point could render the entire process useless.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, the panel in the depths of his consciousness lit up again...
[Host's Need Detected]
> Technology Intelligence Package: Physical Output Function Unlocked.
> Generate Physical Materials?
> Confirm/Cancel
Lu Shen hesitated for a moment, then mentally clicked "Confirm."
> Generating Physical Materials...
> Output Format: Microfilm (35mm Standard Specification)
> Total Data: 4,217 Pages
> Compression Ratio: 1:62
> Generation Complete, Please Retrieve at Designated Location.
An arrow pointed to the bottom drawer of the desk.
Lu Shen opened the drawer, revealing a new item in the hidden compartment... a palm-sized flat black metal box.
He opened the lid.
Three rolls of 35mm microfilm were neatly arranged, sealed in moisture-proof aluminum foil, with the spools labeled VOL.1/3, VOL.2/3, VOL.3/3.
He pulled out the first roll, unrolling a small section under the desk lamp.
The film was densely packed with micro-images... design blueprints, circuit topologies, mathematical formulas, process parameter tables... each frame sharp and clear.
Four thousand two hundred and seventeen pages of technical data, compressed into three rolls of film weighing less than one hundred and fifty grams.
Lu Shen closed the lid, pressing his fingertip against the cold metal surface.
Microfilm... the most common and convenient medium for secret transmission in the intelligence community of 1985.
Not cumbersome paper documents, not futuristic USB drives or CDs, but something perfectly suited to this era.
Lu Shen pushed the drawer back, then stood up and took a deep breath.
In his previous life, he had walked the corridors of the ninth floor of the State Security Building for most of his life, doing only one thing in essence... defense.
Defending against infiltration, defection, leaks, and betrayal.
Like a Night Watchman, standing on the city wall, watching every disturbance in the darkness, doing everything possible to keep the enemy's blade from getting through.
He did it well.
But after a lifetime of guarding, the wall was still the same wall, and the people inside were still using other people's machine tools, other people's chips, other people's engines.
He had blocked the blade but hadn't handed his people a sword.
But now...
Lu Shen glanced at the drawer that had been pushed back into place, his gaze seeming to penetrate the wood, the hidden compartment, and fall on the black metal box.
It had given him a possibility he had never dared to dream of in his previous life...
...
Lu Shen went to the bathroom to wash up, beginning... a frantic recollection.
He needed someone.
Someone who could deliver the materials directly to Jingshi.
Lu Shen searched through his past life's memories... not for a name, but for a certain quality.
The person he needed had to meet three criteria: First, have the clearance to send confidential reports directly to Jingshi; second, be steady enough not to crumble under extreme pressure; third, never have appeared in frontline operations, with minimal attention from external intelligence agencies.
With these three criteria combined, the net tightened, leaving only one person.
Fang Jizhong.
The confidential secretary of Xinhua News Agency's Hong Kong branch, but Lu Shen knew the man's true identity.
A senior intelligence officer of the Second Department of the General Staff, codenamed "Solitary Boat."
In his previous life, Lu Shen had accidentally come across an interdepartmental collaboration document in the Top Secret Archives Room on the ninth floor of the State Security Building, with a pencil note on the corner summarizing "Solitary Boat's" brief resume... stationed in Hong Kong as a Xinhua reporter since the late 1970s, never rotated thereafter.
...
Over the next two days, Lu Shen used his time after work to conduct surveillance on Fang Jizhong.
This was not easy... even though Fang Jizhong had never exposed his identity, a veteran steeped in the intelligence system for over twenty years had counter-surveillance instincts ingrained in his bones.
His route home from work seemed fixed, but there were subtle random variations at critical points: sometimes exiting through the main entrance, sometimes detouring through the side; sometimes waiting at the bus stop, sometimes walking two blocks before hailing a taxi.
By the third night, Lu Shen confirmed a pattern... every Tuesday and Friday after work, Fang Jizhong would walk to a Chaozhou rice noodle shop in Wan Chai to buy takeout, then head south along Ke Street, through a narrow alley between two old Tong Lau, back to his residence on Jiao Jia Street.
That narrow alley was about forty meters long and less than one and a half meters wide.
The streetlight at the alley entrance was broken... judging by the rust inside the lampshade, it had been out of service for at least half a year, and the municipal department clearly didn't prioritize the alley's lighting in their maintenance list.
The alley led to a garbage collection station in the back alley, where the air was perpetually filled with the sour stench of leftover food and rotting fruit, deterring residents from lingering.
No surveillance, no witnesses, the streetlight's blind spot extended two-thirds of the way down the alley.
At two in the morning on the third day, Lu Shen walked the alley alone, then found the safe house.
On the east side of the alley, adjacent to the ground floor of the second Tong Lau, was an abandoned dental clinic.
A faded "Wangji Dental Clinic" sign was pasted on the iron shutter, the lock cylinder rusted.
Lu Shen used a paperclip to pick the lock... the interior of the clinic was unexpectedly spacious.
A reception waiting area, two separate treatment rooms, a darkroom... the back door led to a freight corridor inside the building, with three directions: the left descended to a municipal sewer inspection well, the right ascended to the rooftop of an adjacent building, and straight ahead was a long-defunct freight elevator shaft, with a manhole cover at the bottom connecting to the underground network.
Three escape routes, three different directions.
Lu Shen spent two hours clearing the treatment rooms, confirming the back door corridor was clear, and placed a small flashlight at key turning points along each escape route.
Everything was ready.