Chapter 24: Unauthorized Containment
Chapter 24: Unauthorized Containment
It would be hypocritical to say he didn’t want it—this Bow Tie signified immortality.
Although its appearance transformation was rather ridiculous, it could save lives in critical moments.
At that moment, Bai Ge could only watch helplessly as the Researcher went to take the black Bow Tie.
“Immortality—if I wanted to acquire this trait for myself, I wonder how long it would take to accumulate enough Energy…”
“I’m afraid even if I drained all the electricity in the country, it still wouldn’t be enough…”
Bai Ge looked at Dr. Little Wang, who now ordered, “Seal the Bow Tie and send it to the Capital overnight…”
A Researcher stepped forward to take the Bow Tie, and Liang Wei offered no resistance.
Upon securing the Bow Tie, everyone felt elated, even cheering.
Only Bai Ge knew that attempting to derive technology from Containment Anomalies was as difficult as ascending to the sky.
He understood clearly that this object held no research value for the nation.
To utilize it, one must either equip agents with it or deploy it for extremely hazardous tasks in places unreachable by current technology—
like Outer Space, the Earth’s Core, or close-range nuclear blast observations…
Yet, in the short term, the nation would never pursue such uses. The standard procedure was exhaustive research and analysis; only after confirming futility would practical applications be considered.
Transitioning from research to abandonment could take untold years.
“If I want it, my only chance is to steal it en route. Once it reaches the Capital, any opportunity vanishes.”
As Bai Ge pondered, Liang Wei suddenly convulsed.
His body blackened, flesh rapidly shriveling into lumps before splitting apart and self-dissolving.
In two seconds, Liang Wei became a puddle of pus, bubbling repulsively on the ground.
Even this pus gradually evaporated.
A foul smell permeated the air.
“What happened!” Dr. Little Wang exclaimed in shock.
Everyone stared, dumbfounded, as Liang Wei met a sudden, gruesome end.
Luo Wendi covered his mouth, rushed aside to vomit, his face deathly pale.
Bai Ge reacted first, calmly rushing forward and shouting, “Don’t move!”
This was directed at the Researcher holding the Bow Tie, who stood frozen in fear, clutching it tightly.
The Researcher had just removed the Bow Tie from Liang Wei’s neck when this occurred.
Bai Ge pulled a handkerchief from his clothes, covered his nose and mouth, and examined the residue.
“He seems dissolved by acid… remotely dissolved…”
Dr. Little Wang’s eyes widened. “How? There’s no acid here! Remote dissolution? Unless…”
“Earlier… he was submerged in an acid bath. The chemical reaction that should’ve happened then was delayed until now…” Bai Ge analyzed calmly.
Everyone gasped—could damage be delayed?
Bai Ge continued, “He never truly had immortality. The experimental harm you inflicted earlier—electrocution, burning, pressure, dissolution—remained ineffective in his Shadow Man state. But when he reverted to Human form… no, when the Bow Tie was removed, all that damage rebounded onto him…”
“In that instant, his fragile Human body simultaneously endured burning, electrocution, suffocation, explosion, corrosion… Even without acid present, its chemical effects manifested.”
Tonight, these field experts witnessed repeated impossibilities.
All eyes turned to the black Bow Tie—an item costing two hundred yuan, yet it defied the foundations of established science.
Time and again, they grew numb, offering no rebuttal to Bai Ge’s theories.
“Could Dr. Ma be in danger?” Dr. Little Wang asked. Dr. Ma was the Researcher currently holding the Bow Tie.
Bai Ge looked at him. “Verification is simple: let Dr. Ma become a Shadow Man and prick his hand with a needle.”
“What? Transform him? What if your theory’s wrong? Too risky,” Dr. Little Wang objected.
Superficially, it did seem perilous—Liang Wei, the only previous Shadow Man, had just evaporated.
Yet Bai Ge’s reasoning was sound. After hesitating, Dr. Ma prepared to test it for science.
Suddenly Bai Ge declared, “I’ll do it. Dr. Ma is a top national asset—he can’t take such risks.”
“This Bow Tie is too unpredictable. Experiencing this firsthand to serve my country is an honor.”
With that, he snatched the black Bow Tie from Dr. Ma’s hands.
Others immediately cried, “Stop!”
But Bai Ge had already fastened it decisively to his collar.
He wore a T-shirt, making the Bow Tie look mismatched—but that wasn’t the point.
Everyone watched as Bai Ge willed his body to transform into a humanoid shadow.
Outwardly identical to Liang Wei’s Shadow Man—same build, same indistinct features.
Anyone becoming a Shadow Man likely looked identical.
After transformation, the Bow Tie merged into the shadow, becoming invisible and intangible.
His clothes remained visible, indicating complete shadow form required nudity.
Bai Ge described, “Feels mostly normal. I sense my breathing and heartbeat but show no signs—no sound, no movement. Not breathing seems fine, though prolonged suffocation would be unbearable.”
He detailed sensations like a volunteer.
The team recorded diligently until Bai Ge took a knife and stabbed his own arm.
The blade didn’t pierce the surface, but pain registered.
“There’s pain—brief and dulled. It felt only 10% as intense as normal.”
That level of pain merely signaled, ‘Ah, I got stabbed.’ Nothing more.
Next, Bai Ge reverted to himself and removed the Bow Tie.
Subtly, he brushed the Bow Tie upward against his face. As his slender fingers closed over it during removal, they perfectly concealed a swap.
The move was too swift. No one noticed him sending the real Bow Tie into his Brain Hole while retrieving an identical replica.
He handed the fake Bow Tie to Dr. Ma with utter nonchalance.
The moment Dr. Ma accepted it, Bai Ge feigned a pained gasp, lifting his arm. “The wound appeared—a stab injury. My theory stands correct.”
Attention shifted to Bai Ge’s arm, where a new wound surfaced.
“Ahhh!” Dr. Ma suddenly shrieked as eyes turned to Bai Ge.
The Bow Tie in Dr. Ma’s hand crumbled like sand.
The force of his gasp blew the dust away.
“Whoosh!”
The black Bow Tie disintegrated into ash…
Floating ash created an eerie visual effect.
Everyone stared, stunned into silence.
Dr. Ma whispered, “I didn’t mean to… How did it…”
Bai Ge hurriedly said, “This must be another anomaly. How could any ordinary object shatter so completely and evenly? Shouldn’t we gather this dust immediately? Being broken down might actually make it easier for us to study.”
Hearing Bai Ge’s reminder, everyone snapped out of their daze.
Dr. Little Wang instantly shouted, “Quick! Be careful! Don’t let it get blown away! Collect every bit of this powder!”
As the Researchers sprang into action, Bai Ge silently stepped aside.
What had shattered was, of course, the Bow Tie conjured by his Brain Hole. He had deliberately avoided using Real substances, making the Bow Tie appear fragile once manifested in Reality.
Its fragility was ideal. Now that it was dust, no one would ever know he had switched it. They would simply blame it on the anomaly… after all, the Bow Tie itself was filled with the bizarre.
He watched as the Researchers meticulously collected every grain of powder, sealed it up, locked it in a safe, and then loaded it onto an armored vehicle…
They planned to transport this pile of debris… to the Capital overnight.
Bai Ge was genuinely curious how much they could learn from studying a substance completely different from anything known.
But that… he’d leave for the nation to explore.
…
Quietly making off with the Containment Anomaly, the Chinese Academy of Sciences was immensely grateful to Bai Ge.
For Bai Ge’s outstanding contributions during the incident, authorities planned to award him the honorary title of “Honored Citizen” discreetly, along with a cash reward.
Of course, he also signed a “Classified Matters Confidentiality Agreement.”
He didn’t just sign it with the Chinese Academy of Sciences; a copy was filed with the National Security Bureau. This meant his name was now permanently logged in the national security archives…
After all, Bai Ge had played a crucial role in the whole event while remaining completely outside the system. Getting him to sign only a confidentiality agreement was already showing him considerable respect.
“An honorary citizen title kept quiet, affiliation with the provincial Chinese Academy of Sciences, and they’ll even handle my monthly social insurance contributions… not bad at all…”
Bai Ge shook his head wryly. He slept at the Chinese Academy of Sciences that night and left with Luo Wendi around noon the next day.
Luo Wendi offered, “Let me drive you back to Xiangfan.”
After a moment’s thought, Bai Ge agreed.
Shortly after, a burly driver from Luo Wendi’s team pulled up in a Bentley.
Bai Ge and Luo Wendi sat in the back as they headed back toward Xiangfan City.
Bai Ge closed his eyes to rest. After a period of silence, Luo Wendi suddenly handed Bai Ge a check. “This is a hundred thousand. I said I wouldn’t involve you, but I did anyway. Consider this extra compensation.”
Bai Ge opened his eyes. Seeing the money, his spirits lifted.
This guy… seems to want something from me? he thought.
It felt like a very obvious attempt at ingratiation. Clearly, after last night’s events, Luo Wendi no longer saw him as an insignificant nobody but as a capable individual.
“Just say what’s on your mind,” Bai Ge said.
Luo Wendi smiled. “I heard you’re a Cleaner?”
“Cleaner” was actually a specific line of work.
It was a fairly rare profession within the country, not exactly legal.
Hearing Luo Wendi mention this, Bai Ge knew he must have looked into his background.
“What about it?”
Luo Wendi grinned, “I talked to Chen Song. Seems you’re quite talented?”
“Not really talented, honestly. I’m thinking of quitting.”
Bai Ge actually liked his job well enough, but now with the Brain Hole, retiring did cross his mind.
The more he understood the nature of the Brain Hole, the more he realized he had endless ways to make money— no need to stick to his old trade.
As for selling flowers, he wouldn’t do that again. He’d created Danmu this time; bringing out any more extraordinary blooms, even if he made them seem somewhat ordinary, would draw unwanted attention if he “found” them too often.
Money-making opportunities were plentiful. The real priority now was to gather enough Energy quickly.
Yet Luo Wendi pressed on, “Really sure you don’t want to do it anymore? I know your type. Frankly, you don’t strike me as very professional.”
“Hmm?” Bai Ge felt a slight prickle of annoyance.
In his line of work, being called unprofessional was the ultimate insult.
Luo Wendi continued, “Perhaps you genuinely care about integrity, but you rely too much on verbal agreements. Someone like Chen Song? He spilled everything about you without much prompting from me. If ever cornered, he’d sell you out without blinking.”
Bai Ge countered, “I know. But he won’t have any proof.”
“You’re being overly confident. From what I see, you lack thoroughness. If you wanted absolutely no connection to the Danmu affair, you shouldn’t have left fingerprints on the planter.”
As he spoke, Luo Wendi pulled a flowerpot from the luxury car’s compartment.
It was the planter from Chen Song’s house. Bai Ge’s fingerprints were on it.
Luo Wendi held up the photos Bai Ge had delivered and pointed at the pot. “For a Cleaner, leaving fingerprints is a fatal mistake.”
Unexpectedly, Bai Ge looked utterly unfazed. “Who said those are my fingerprints?”
Luo Wendi was stunned. “I saw you touch the pot with my own eyes! You handled the photos bare-handed! How could you not leave fingerprints?”
Bai Ge shook his head. “Look closer.”
Seeing Bai Ge’s confident expression, Luo Wendi grew suspicious.
He quickly used adhesive strips to lift the prints, soon laying out dozens before them.
Only four distinct fingerprint patterns were on the pot: Bai Ge’s, Chen Song’s, Luo Wendi’s own, and those of Chen Song’s father-in-law.
The photos also bore Bai Ge’s prints.
Luo Wendi had intended to filter through them, but when he clearly saw Bai Ge’s lifted fingerprint, he froze. Filtering was unnecessary.
“What? How… do these fingerprints have… characters?”
Bai Ge’s fingerprint pattern was bizarre. The ridges were strangely formed and… undeniably, they shaped a distinct Chinese character:
The character for “Six” (六).