Chapter 104: Magnetic Powder Lures the Enemy·Sample Holds Hidden Secrets

After hanging up the phone, Zhao Jianguo didn't move, his finger still resting on the receiver. The room was so quiet he could hear the detector's cooling fan humming. He lowered his head to glance at the drawer; the latch was already shut, but the chill from that needle tip seemed to seep along the metal into his bones.

He stood up, walked to the desk, opened the hidden compartment, and took out a small silver-gray box. Opening it, inside was a metal sheet the size of a fingernail, its surface giving off a matte sheen, looking utterly ordinary. He gently placed it on the table, drew a bottle of colorless liquid from the System Space, and dropped a tiny drop onto it. The metal sheet trembled slightly, like a piece of paper fluttering in the wind.

"All right." He muttered to himself, "It's your turn to work."

This thing was what he cooked up working until two a. m. last night—an ordinary alloy sample with trace magnetic powder embedded inside, then activated with a tracking code via the sign-in system. As soon as someone touches it, the powder clings to the contact object like a stubborn plaster, impossible to shake off, and can be followed by signal for up to three days.

He made a call to the intermediary, arranging to meet in the back alley of the south city second-hand market. The man was an old hand, a broker in the tech black market, tight-lipped and quick-handed, asking only about money, not the goods. Zhao Jianguo didn't show himself, packed the sample into an anti-static bag, sealed it, wrote a false name, and handed it over.

"Just say it's a Shanghai-made high-sensitivity test sample; those who know will bite." He finished his instructions and hung up, not giving an extra glance.

Three hours later, the encrypted channel came back with news: the sample had been sold. The buyer was a gloved man wearing a gray jacket, carrying an old leather bag, paid promptly and cleanly, didn't even bother to open the bag to inspect the goods, turned and left.

Zhao Jianguo's lips twitched: "A professional."

He hopped on his bicycle and headed for East City. At the intersection corner he saw a battered Jeep parked, its roof tied with a fishing tackle box, actually concealing a signal receiver inside. Chen Jianguo was leaning against the car door smoking; seeing him approach, he stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it into the roadside drain.

"The drone's been launched." He lowered his voice, "Scan along the magnetic powder's electromagnetic frequency band, as you said."

The two piled into the car, the screen lit up, the picture split into four quadrants, all showing night‑vision thermal imaging. A few minutes later, a faint red dot blinked in the lower‑right corner, on and off like a heartbeat.

"We found it." Chen Jianguo pulled up the trajectory map, "The signal source is steady at the north side of Xu Da Mao's old grain depot; now it's shifted into the adjacent abandoned chemical plant. The wall there is half‑collapsed, making entry and exit easy, and there's still electricity inside."

Zhao Jianguo leaned in for a closer look; the red dot wasn't alone—three small light spots were moving back and forth inside the factory building in a regular rhythm, not like idle wandering but more like they were setting up equipment.

"This isn't a makeshift stop." He said, "They've set up a base."

Chen Jianguo nodded: "They think we're still checking the warehouse, never expecting we'd dropped the bait into the black market. This time they're delivering themselves to us."

Zhao Jianguo pulled out the magnetic powder detector he carried, palm‑sized; as soon as the screen lit up, the needle began to tremble. "Signal strength 3.7, continuously transmitting. As long as these people wear clothes, carry bags, or drive, they'll pick up the powder. If they dare go out from now on, we can track them all the way to their doorstep."

Chen Jianguo chuckled: "Your trick is nasty enough—using a scrap of iron as bait and still getting them to willingly help you move house."

"Not scrap iron." Zhao Jianguo put away the detector, "It's a key."

The two didn't linger long, shut down the equipment, and drove back to the city. Night wind poured in through the car windows, refreshing them. Passing a state‑run canteen, Zhao Jianguo had Chen Jianguo stop the car, got out himself, bought two bowls of hot noodle soup, and handed one over.

"Have something to eat." He said, "The next few days are going to be busy."

Chen Jianguo took the bowl, poked at the noodles with his chopsticks, "You really think they'll move again?"

"They sure will." Zhao Jianguo slurped a mouthful of noodles, "Once they get the sample, their first reaction is to verify authenticity, the second step is to trace the source. When they realize this material's alloy composition is close to that of the readers they use, curiosity will lead them by the nose. By then we won't need to hunt them down; they'll bring the whole crew out for a stroll on their own."

Chen Jianguo burst out laughing: "You understand the bad guys' psychology pretty well."

"It's not about understanding villains." Zhao Jianguo wiped his mouth, "It's about understanding those eager to make a name for themselves. Who wouldn't want to scoop up some hard cash to take home and claim credit? A 'coincidentally' picked‑up high‑sensitivity alloy is enough to make them throw caution to the wind."

The car restarted, cruising past several main streets as streetlights flickered by the windows. Zhao Jianguo leaned back, closed his eyes to rest, but his mind was running through the next step.

He couldn't just snatch them; the risk was too great. He didn't know who stood behind them, and if it pulled in higher‑ups the situation would become messy. The best approach was to follow the vine to the melon—let them reveal their hideouts, personnel, and contacts on their own, then sweep them all up in one go.

As they neared the Siheyuan gate, he suddenly opened his eyes: "Right, you said about the Shanghai Institute's serial number suffix -042—could it possibly have leaked from inside?"

Chen Jianguo gripped the steering wheel, didn't answer right away. After a few seconds he said: "Possible. Ten years ago the 798 Research Institute cut a batch of project teams; the equipment list included these kinds of reader components. If someone had privately siphoned them off back then and later passed them through underground channels, it makes perfect sense."

"So it's not a random hit." Zhao Jianguo narrowed his eyes, "It's been prepared in advance, waiting for us to slip up."

No sooner had his words finished than the detector in his pocket gave a sudden jolt. He pulled it out to see the screen flash a line: 【Historical Correction Force Strength +30%】

He stared at that line, silent.

Chen Jianguo glanced at it, also silent.

After a long while, Zhao Jianguo spoke softly: "They're not after the technology."

"They're after us."

"But how could they know we're here? And how could they be sure we'd run into these things?" Zhao Jianguo gripped the detector tightly, "Unless… our moves have already been factored in by someone."

Chen Jianguo pressed the brake, the car halted at the hutong entrance. In the distance the city lights blazed, the cinema lobby still hung a poster for the newly released film, a few kids chased each other across the street, their laughter drifting through the window.

"So from now on." Chen Jianguo looked ahead, voice calm, "We can't go by the usual logic."

Zhao Jianguo nodded: "We have to make them think we're going to celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Chen Jianguo turned to look at him.

"Exactly." Zhao Jianguo raised the corners of his mouth, "Invite them to a meal, set out a banquet, let the whole factory know. Anyone wanting to gather intel will naturally try to sneak in."

Chen Jianguo laughed: "You're setting up the stage for the opera, waiting for the performers to come on?"

"I'm not singing." Zhao Jianguo stowed the detector, pushed open the car door, "I just handle the gong."

He stood by the roadside, brushed dust off his pants, lifted his gaze to the Siheyuan gate tower. From inside came the sound of an erhu, someone playing "Jasmine Flower"—the tune was wildly off‑key, yet it sounded lively.

He stepped inside, Chen Jianguo followed.

"What do you think." Zhao Jianguo suddenly asked, "Will they send someone posing as an acquaintance?"

"Definitely." Chen Jianguo said, "Maybe someone's already been making inquiries."

"That's perfect." Zhao Jianguo produced a key, slipped it into the courtyard gate lock, "Let's see who's most eager to recognize relatives."

The key turned, the lock cylinder clicked.

Inside the courtyard, a scent of stewed meat drifted from the kitchen window, someone shouting, "Jianguo! The meat's burnt!"