Chapter 3: The Patent Pays Out: First Fortune

Old Captain’s ragged gasps echoed close to his ears, every breath smelling of blood and sounding like a broken bellows. Yet Lu Chen had already rolled up that yellowed parchment, his fingertips forcibly steadying despite the violent tremors racking his hands. Without another word, he shoved the scroll inside his coat. The icy touch of the rock face against his chest served as a sharp reminder of just how close death had brushed by them moments ago.

The darkness deep in the canyon spread like a living thing, swallowing the very last sliver of light. Only the bronze badge resting against his chest still cast a faint glow, resembling a solitary eye peering into the gloom. Old Captain collapsed heavily to the ground, his face smeared with dirt and ash. He stared at Lu Chen’s retreating back, all previous awe vanished from his eyes, replaced entirely by profound fear and confusion.

The fear stemmed from the unknown, and the confusion from the collapse of logic itself—in this damned, cursed place, only this young man before him maintained a spine-chilling calmness.

Lu Chen turned and kept walking, his stride steady and forceful, as though the cave-in they had just barely survived was nothing more than another blueprint waiting for optimization. He knew this single map was just the beginning; the real game of chess had only just made its opening move. The wind howled at the mouth of the canyon, scattering the fishy stench of upturned earth, yet it failed to chill the burning resolve deep within his chest.

He raised his gaze toward the faint horizon glow of the distant city, his mind already automatically constructing data models as the fractured landscape lines began to reorganize into a grander, far more intricate structure.

Late at night, inside an abandoned suburban warehouse, a dim yellow bulb swayed overhead. Its sickly light flickered erratically through air thick with dust, heavy with the stench of machine oil and mildew. Lu Chen unfolded an old laptop onto a battered wooden table, the screen flashing to life and reflecting his cold, hyper-focused gaze.

Fatty Zhao stood leaning against the wall, chewing on an unlit cigarette while toying with a pair of coins, making a faint clicking sound as they rolled across his knuckles. He tossed one coin up, caught it, and tossed it again, his eyes darting toward the glowing screen as he tried to pick apart any flaws in those complex contour lines.

Lu Chen didn't look up. His fingers flew across the keyboard, translating the hand-drawn contours from the parchment into a digital model. The once-blurry curves transformed on screen into a precision three-dimensional geological stress distribution map. Those highlighted red warning zones marked the exact high-risk collapse areas he predicted would occur within the next five years.

Fatty Zhao stepped closer, his brow furrowing while one corner of his mouth curled into a skeptical sneer. Clearly, he didn’t believe this contraption could possibly be more accurate than the professional equipment back at the Provincial Infrastructure Bureau.

Fatty Zhao finally spoke, his voice raspy and dripping with gritty street-smarts: "Lu, stop trying to play some god-damned mystic with me. If this map of yours could really dodge danger zones like that, those old stuck-up experts at the Bureau would’ve put you on a pedestal by now. You wouldn't be sitting out here tinkering in a busted old warehouse."

Lu Chen paused his movements, lifted his head, and met his gaze with absolute tranquility: "Brother Zhao, you were just worrying about the foundation piles for your cross-river bridge hitting an unstable stratum. According to the current survey reports, you’ll have to redesign the thing at least three times and blow your deadline by half a year. My model pinpoints the stress dead-zones directly. One pass, and it's built right the first time."

Fatty Zhao blew out a nonexistent puff of smoke, leaning his torso slightly forward as an oppressive wave of pressure surged between them: "Name your price. Cut the crap, we go back too far. If you're trying to con me, you won't last another week in this industry."

Lu Chen pointed a finger at the red zone glowing on the screen, his tone completely flat: "Patent authorization plus exclusive data source access. Twenty million. Take it or leave it, and I don't do credit."

Fatty Zhao’s eyes widened as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous joke on earth, followed by a sharp snort through his nose. He crossed his arms over his chest, his attitude instantly hardening. Outside the warehouse, a gust of wind slammed hard against the corrugated iron doors with a deafening crash, making the tense atmosphere inside feel even more suffocating.

With a cold chuckle, Fatty Zhao tapped his fingers against the table: "Twenty million? Look in a mirror and see who the hell you think you are. What's this little pile of junk even worth? Listen to me, kid, don't burn your bridges. Two million, and I take the whole lot off your hands. If you don't sell, I'll take my business elsewhere tomorrow. The Bureau's lab might be slow, but at least their data doesn't lie."

Lu Chen calmly shut the laptop lid, the snap echoing crisply through the room. He stood up, straightened his collar, and cast a chilling glance his way: "Brother Zhao, raw data is dead, but a sharp mind is alive. This model holds fifty years of future deduction accuracy, not some slapped-together survey report from this afternoon. Twenty million gets you the whole package. Deal or walk—your call."

Fatty Zhao stared at Lu Chen’s back, his mind racing as he weighed the pros and cons. He knew Lu Chen’s technical chops; during a few previous small-scale engineering collabs, Lu’s performance had blown past every expectation. More importantly, the scheduling pressure for that cross-river bridge weighed on him like a mountain—if it failed, he couldn't afford the fallout.

Twenty million was steep, sure, but compared to breach-of-contract penalties and astronomical losses from delayed deadlines, the math checked out. Fatty Zhao let out a heavy sigh, stopped flipping his coin, reached into his coat to pull out a thick, heavy kraft paper envelope, and tossed it onto the table: "Fine. I'll trust you this once. But remember—this money moves through the black channels. Don't leave any paper trail linking back to me."

Lu Chen picked up the envelope, offered no extra words, and turned toward the door.

The day after the deal went down, Lu Chen sat alone by the window of his rental apartment under a slate-gray sky. He channeled that massive payout into a specific catalyst, and a faint humming sound echoed deep inside his mind. The Global Infrastructure Deduction Mirror interface unfolded across his field of vision, rendering those once-obscure data streams crystal clear.

He burned his first batch of Infrastructure Coins to unlock introductory Geological Perspective clearance. In an instant, a faint blue shimmer traced the edges of his vision. Looking right through the walls, he clearly observed the rock formations three meters underground, where invisible stress faults glowed like pulsating blood vessels right before his eyes.

He felt an unprecedented sense of absolute control, as though the entire world had turned into a transparent blueprint.

Meanwhile, deep within the secret server room of the Provincial Infrastructure Bureau, Lin Zhenguo frowned as he stared at a massive surveillance monitor. On screen was an intercepted burst of encrypted data that matched the patent model Lu Chen had submitted down to the last digit. Lin Zhenguo’s fingers drummed a dull, heavy rhythm against the desktop, his gaze venomous as a dangerous curve played at the corner of his lips.

He never expected that a planner he had once dismissed as a nobody had actually managed to get his hands on such core-level data. Lin Zhenguo picked up the phone, his voice chillingly cold: "Initiate tracking protocols. I want to know where this data leaked from. If you can't trace the source, trace the man."

Deep within the docks, Fatty Zhao’s crew was covertly exchanging the cash. Amid the dim shadows of stacked shipping containers, several men in black stood tense and nervous, the surroundings utterly silent save for the sound of ocean waves slapping against the concrete embankment. Fatty Zhao stood a short distance away with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, watching his men load boxes of cash onto a truck, though his heart felt far from settled.

He knew this transaction had already touched a raw nerve and alarmed the wrong people. Lu Chen stood within the shadows of a container, finishing up his final documents and getting ready to move out. Suddenly, he noticed the red light of a distant security camera blinking erratically—its frequency three times faster than normal.

Lu Chen froze, his eyes narrowing sharply. He instantly cut his phone’s signal and melted into the complex maze of overhead pipes to mask his approach. Footsteps grew closer, but Lu Chen had already vanished into the massive shadows of the city as though he had never existed at all.

On the top floor of the Provincial Bureau building, an anonymous tip letter sat squarely on Lin Zhenguo’s desk. The stationery was of a special grade, bearing only a single typed line: *A certain contractor is suspected of illegally acquiring core national geological data. Investigation urged.* Lin Zhenguo stared at those words, a flash of cold light in his eyes as he gripped his pen a bit tighter.

Slowly, he raised his head to gaze out the window at the bustling yet chilling city nightscape, the intent to kill already quietly breeding in his heart.

Lu Chen stood beneath an overpass, rain dampening his shoulders, though he paid it no mind. He stared up at the distant lights of the Provincial Bureau, knowing that from this exact second onward, peaceful days were officially over. Fatty Zhao’s phone rang again. This time there were no pleasantries, only a hurried, desperate whisper: "Lu, the Bureau people are onto you. Disappear right now, and lose my number."

Lu Chen hung up, powered down the phone, and hurled it straight into the river. He pulled his collar tight and stepped deeper into the curtain of rain, his back resolute and unyielding. He knew every single step from here on out would have to be walked across a tightrope. The sound of the rain grew louder, drowning out the roar of the city, and masking the turbulent flood of data raging within his mind.

A police siren pierced the rainy night as several black tactical vehicles slid silently to a halt by the side entrance of the Provincial Bureau. Lin Zhenguo didn't bother waiting for an umbrella as he strode directly toward the underground garage. His pace was steadier than usual, yet radiated a suffocating wave of pressure.

He punched in a satellite comms frequency, his voice harsh and cold: "Initiate 'Silent' protocol. Cut all civilian signal base stations in that sector and lockdown the three main elevated highways."

At the same time, Lu Chen was hiding inside a ventilation shaft of an abandoned subway station. Rainwater seeped through the metal grating, each drop hammering against his raw nerves. The faint shimmer at the edge of his vision now pulsed rapidly, like an erratic heartbeat. He forcefully suppressed the urge to trigger his "Geological Perspective" clearance—that was both bait and a trap.

If he activated it, he could see the rock formations thirty meters beneath his feet, even peering into hollow cavities deliberately buried by human hands. But he knew better than anyone else that any over-clocked data reading would leave a digital footprint clearer than a pair of muddy boots on a fresh floor.

His phone screen suddenly flared to life. It wasn't Fatty Zhao's number, but an unknown overseas encrypted port. The screen displayed only a single line of code: [Data upload complete. Two hours remaining.]

Lu Chen’s pupils contracted. Fatty Zhao had been sold out. Or rather, Fatty Zhao had been nothing more than a massive decoy all along, designed to herd him right into this corner. The Bureau’s net was tightening, and the roar of helicopter rotor blades cutting through the wind drifted down from the ventilation grate overhead.

He had to make a choice: immediately plunge into the deep subway infrastructure and use the complex utility tunnels to evade pursuit, or risk blowing his cover entirely to go verify whatever was hidden inside that "abnormal cavity"?

The micro-glow flickered once more, this time tinged with a blinding red. Deep underground, a low-frequency vibration hummed up through the iron tracks—not like an earthquake, but more like some colossal, sleeping creature being rudely jolted awake and shifting its weight.

Gritting his teeth, Lu Chen pulled a homemade signal jammer from his tactical pack and hurled it far into the distance toward the sector where searchlights were about to boot up. The moment smoke billowed out, he moved like a startled night leopard, vanishing completely into the labyrinth of intertwined pipes.

Out in the rain behind him, Lin Zhenguo stood atop a command vehicle, watching the blank surveillance monitors as a chilling smirk touched the corner of his lips: "If we can't catch him, we'll follow his data trail and dig up everything he holds most dear."

Lu Chen crawled forward through the dark utility conduit, his ears ringing with the mingled rhythm of his heartbeat and flowing water. He knew that after tonight, there was no turning back. And as for that whistle-blown core data—did it hold secrets capable of upending the entire geological monitoring system, or was it just another far more terrifying conspiracy? Ahead at a fork in the tunnel, two emergency lights flickered erratically, guiding him deeper into an unknown abyss.