[Two hours before the Night Raid]

  The atmosphere on the second floor of the 13th Street clinic was as oppressive as a volcano on the verge of eruption.

  John Doe stood by the window, listening to the whispered conspiracies of his neighbors below. What surged in his heart wasn't just anger, but a sobering clarity after being slapped hard by reality.

  Margaret was right. Xuanwu was right. Human nature isn't a black-and-white fairy tale; it's an instinct struggling on the line of survival.

  "They want to sell me out because selling me means they live."

  John looked at the balance on his iPad, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the screen so hard his fingertips turned white.

  "But what about me? I saved them! I went into debt for 500,000 for them, almost lost my life!"

  He remembered a few days ago, everyone crowding around calling him "Doctor John," giving him eggs and cured meat. Their smiles were so sincere then. But now, just because of a threat from the Guild, those smiles had turned into grotesque fangs.

  This disparity made John feel waves of nausea.

  "If I want them not to sell me out, I have to prove: Selling me won't just fail to save them, it will make them die even more miserably. Or... following me will gain them more than just 50,000."

  This was interest binding.

  In this cannibalistic world, only shared interests formed the strongest chains.

  "Input = Despair, Output = Cannibalism," John murmured, repeating Moriarty's logic. "Then what if I change the input? What if Input = Hope, or... Greater Fear?"

  A thought flashed through his mind: Set a trap.

  Use the traitor to lure the Guild's claws in, then execute them publicly. Use blood to tell everyone the price of betrayal.

  But as soon as this thought emerged, John suppressed it fiercely.

  "No! That's murder! And... that's using Old Wang! Even though he betrayed me, he used to..."

  John remembered the expired bread Old Wang used to slip him, remembered Old Wang patting his shoulder the day he was expelled from the academy, saying, "It's okay, you can always come back and sell groceries."

  Those warm memories now turned into the sharpest knives, cutting at his conscience.

  "I can't do this... I can't become that kind of unscrupulous person..."

  John squatted on the ground, holding his head in pain. Though his hemophobia was physiologically suppressed, his psychological aversion to violence remained deeply rooted.

  DING—

  Just then, the silent Yin-Yang iPad suddenly lit up.

  It wasn't a message from Holmes, nor a bill from Singularity.

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  It was a dialog box that popped up on its own, featuring no avatar, only a flag with the traditional character "Wei (魏)" written on it.

  [Connection Request: Mengde (Mengde)]

  Identity: Politician / Military Strategist / Poet / Hero of Chaos

  Message: "I hear your heart, boy. What are you hesitating for? Is it because they are your neighbors? Or because... you are afraid of dirtying your hands?"

  Cost: 0 (If you can show me a good show).

  John's finger froze.

  Mengde. Cao Mengde.

  The man who said, "I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me."

  "Connect."

  John took a deep breath and pressed the accept button. He needed someone to tell him what to do.

  The screen instantly darkened, as if the whole room were pulled into a heavy piece of history.

  A projection of a middle-aged man appeared before John. He wore a dark red robe, a tall cap, and had a long beard. Holding a bamboo scroll, his eyes were profound and cold, as if they could see through all the hypocrisy in the world.

  Cao Cao.

  He didn't display martial prowess like other Heroic Spirits. Instead, he walked slowly to the window, glanced at the neighbors plotting below, and clicked his tongue.

  "Tsk."

  A sound of contempt.

  "A mob of rabble. But, realistic enough."

  He turned around, looking at John as if looking at a child who hadn't grown up yet.

  "What are you thinking? Want to use your kindness to move them? Want to tell them 'We must unite'?"

  Cao Cao shook his head.

  "That is the way of a Saint, not the way of Chaos."

  "In chaotic times, the human heart is like grass in the wind. Whichever way the wind blows, the grass bends. If you don't want them to bend toward the enemy, you must become a fiercer wind than the enemy."

  "But..." John's voice trembled slightly. "That's a trap. That's pushing them toward death. If I do that, what's the difference between me and the Guild?"

  "Difference?"

  Cao Cao walked up to John, his sharp eyes staring dead at him.

  "The difference is, the Guild kills to plunder, while you kill... to survive. To let your sick mother behind you, your skeleton brother, and that girl without a body... survive."

  "Boy, have you thought about it?"

  Cao Cao pointed out the door.

  "If you soften your heart and let this traitor go. Tomorrow, the Guild's army will march straight in. By then, not only will you die, but everyone in this room will die. The entire street will be slaughtered."

  "At that time, your kindness will be the greatest sin."

  This sentence struck John's skull like a thunderbolt.

  Kindness is a sin?

  John looked at his mother lying on the bed, at the box in the corner containing Bone, at Grace hibernating in the wristband due to low battery.

  If his moment of benevolence killed them...

  He couldn't bear that consequence.

  "I... don't want them to die." John's eyes changed. The weak hesitation began to fade, replaced by a ruthless resolve born of the need to protect.

  "That's right." Cao Cao nodded with satisfaction. "Remember, mercy does not command soldiers. To be a leader, you must have the resolve to bear infamy and sin."

  "Now, tell me, what do you want to do?"

  John took a deep breath and stood up straight.

  "The Empty Fort Strategy."

  Though John's voice still trembled, the tone was different.

  "That guy named Holmes told you, didn't he? 'The rat is in.' Since there's a rat, it means my defense line is already leaking."

  "Since it's leaking, we might as well... open the door."

  John's finger traced in the air, mimicking Cao Cao's gesture.

  "Let the rat in. Let him think he succeeded. Let him bring the enemy in."

  "Then..."

  John made a fist, his fingernails piercing his palm, drawing blood.

  He didn't faint.

  But his face instantly turned pale, white as a corpse, his lips losing color. Not from blood loss, but because his soul was undergoing a transformation more painful than death.

  He was killing the weak version of himself.

  "Close the door, and beat the dog."

  "Good!" Cao Cao laughed loudly. "Teachable! But this is not enough. Just killing a few soldiers won't deter those fence-sitters."

  "You have to let them... see it with their own eyes."

  Cao Cao walked to the window and pointed at the square below.

  "Turn the battlefield into an execution ground. Let everyone see the price of betrayal. Fear is the most efficient adhesive in chaotic times."

  John looked at the square.

  He knew that once he took this step, he could never go back. The simple, kind, hemophobic John Doe would die tonight.

  Replacing him would be a... survivor who had to stain his hands with blood.

  "Bone, Grace, time to work."

  John's voice was cold as ice.

  "Move everyone to the basement. Concentrate all heat sources and sound equipment in the second-floor bedroom. Reset all traps."

  "Tonight, we're going to put on a good show... for our guests."

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