On the 75th day of living together, another B-Class incident occurred in Shanghai.
This one was different from the last.
Moss had been friendly.
Its influence on humans had been unintentional.
At its core, it was simply a Meme capable of affecting plant life that didn’t fully understand boundaries.
This time was different.
The branch office’s warning system issued an alert two hours before the incident fully erupted.
The branch classified it as B3.
The target displayed obvious hostility and had already caused a certain degree of physical destruction to its surroundings.
The incident happened near a commercial district connected to a major transportation hub.
To make matters worse, it was around six in the evening.
The impact on nearby civilians was severe, and several deaths had almost occurred.
Lin Xia wasn’t assigned to the field operation this time.
Her role remained intelligence coordination, handling remote support from the apartment.
She opened her laptop and phone, connected to the branch’s internal systems, and began tracking the operation’s progress.
Outside the window, the city appeared as peaceful and bustling as ever.
But she knew that roughly 8 kilometers away, a Meme was currently wreaking havoc in some unknown manner while GMRA containment squads struggled to deal with it.
Her eyes remained fixed on the screen.
Completely focused.
The field agents continued pushing forward, but progress seemed slow.
The Meme’s destructive methods were currently limited to physical damage.
However, no one could determine the pattern.
Its effects would appear randomly throughout the area, causing shattered glass, collapsing pavement, and ruptured pipelines.
It was as though an invisible force was striking different locations at random.
No one could predict where the next attack would occur.
The field team had fallen into a passive position.
They had to protect civilians during evacuations while simultaneously dealing with an unpredictable Meme.
The risk of casualties wasn’t low.
After compiling the incoming reports, Lin Xia submitted an analysis to command.
Based on existing data, the destruction points didn’t appear completely random.
There seemed to be intervals and recurring patterns.
Perhaps the next attack point could be predicted, allowing containment zones to be established in advance.
The command team adopted her suggestion and began adjusting deployments.
At that moment, Yin Qi spoke from the couch where she was lying on her side with her eyes closed.
“The next destruction point will be in front of the bookstore at the northeast corner of that street.”
“There should be about two minutes left.”
“Tell them to evacuate everyone there.”
Lin Xia turned to look at her.
Yin Qi was lying against a couch cushion, supporting her face with one hand.
She looked surprisingly serious.
Lin Xia chose to believe her.
She immediately opened a communication channel to field command.
“Northeast corner bookstore entrance. Predicted destruction event within two minutes. Evacuate nearby personnel immediately.”
“…What’s your basis?”
“Real-time data analysis.”
“The probability is high. Recommend immediate execution.”
The other side remained silent for several seconds.
Finally, they replied: “Understood.”
And they carried out the order.
Two minutes later, a crack nearly half a meter wide split open in front of the bookstore.
The resulting tremor toppled several nearby streetlights.
“Warning was accurate. No civilian casualties in the affected area. Request confirmation of intelligence source.”
“Prediction derived through analysis of real-time data. Detailed modeling will be archived later.”
Afterward, Lin Xia turned toward Yin Qi.
She thanked her.
And she didn’t ask how Yin Qi had sensed something happening 8 kilometers away.
***
The incident finally ended a little after nine that evening.
Lin Xia shut down her computer and leaned back in her chair.
She rubbed her eyes.
Her neck felt stiff.
Her mind felt empty.
“Finished?”
Turning around, she saw Yin Qi still sitting on the couch.
Both hands were supporting her face as she watched her.
“Finished.”
Lin Xia nodded.
“The field squad contained it.”
“Got it.”
Yin Qi stood up and walked into the kitchen.
After a series of clattering noises, she returned carrying two bowls and placed them in front of Lin Xia.
“There were leftovers from lunch.”
“I heated them up for you.”
“…When?”
“While you were busy.”
Yin Qi sat down.
“What’s so surprising about that? Eat.”
“By the way, how did your organization deal with this Meme?”
“It was successfully contained.”
Lin Xia picked up her spoon.
“They’re transporting it to headquarters now.”
Then she paused.
“Oh, right.”
“You helped a lot again this time.”
“Just a convenient little favor.”
“You said that last time too.”
Lin Xia looked at her.
“Do you know that there were at least three people near that bookstore who hadn’t evacuated yet?”
“If we hadn’t cleared the area beforehand, something could’ve happened to them.”
“But you did evacuate them.”
Yin Qi shrugged.
“So nothing happened.”
Lin Xia stared at her.
“Why do you help us?”
“I don’t think this counts as helping.”
Yin Qi rested her chin in one hand.
“I sensed it instinctively and mentioned it to you.”
“That’s all.”
“Whether you report it to the organization is entirely your own decision.”
“You sensed it and casually mentioned it…”
Lin Xia complained.
“How many times have you sensed things and casually mentioned them already?”
“Do you have a phased-array radar installed inside your head or something?”
Yin Qi ignored her.
She lowered her head and resumed scrolling through brainless short videos on her phone.
They were just as stupid as Earth’s versions.
Which made them oddly comforting.
Lin Xia didn’t continue questioning her.
She lowered her head and finished the remaining rice and soup.
Then she crossed her arms, rested her head on the table, and stopped moving.
“Plastic Heart.”
Lin Xia’s voice came out muffled from her folded arms.
“What now?”
“Nothing.”
Lin Xia hesitated.
“I just… wanted to thank you.”
“How many times have you said thank you already~”
Yin Qi deliberately copied Lin Xia’s earlier tone in an attempt to annoy her.
“How about you stop putting yourself in danger from now on?”
“When was I ever in danger today?”
Lin Xia immediately protested.
“I stayed home the entire time.”
“Then next time.”
Lin Xia glanced at her.
She wanted to argue that she was a GMRA agent and had to obey organizational orders.
But in the end, she didn’t say it.
Instead, she simply raised her head and began organizing the items on her desk.
She stacked the empty bowls, carried them into the kitchen, washed them, and put them away.
When she returned to the living room, she noticed that the lights had changed to a warmer setting than before.
She didn’t look at the switch.
She knew nobody had touched it.
She didn’t look at Yin Qi either.
She knew that if she asked about the lights, Yin Qi would definitely pretend to be innocent again.
So she simply stood there a little longer.
Then she said:
“Good night.”
“Good night.”