Chapter 25

This feeling of observation was quite subtle.

It was like when you observed a cat, only for the cat to sneak a glance at you while pretending to be cute.

Even this cat was infiltrating his daily habits.

If Xu Qinglai hadn’t been so sensitive to it, it would have been hard to notice anything wrong at that moment. After all, Bo Ting was naturally chatty and outgoing.

The recent conversation was just a bit more frequent than usual, but the content was similar to his normal messages.

His knuckles lightly tapped on the phone, and the elegantly tempered man lowered his eyes. The faint displeasure of being watched suddenly faded, replaced by an unprecedented spark of interest.

This was the first time he had studied a weird entity only to be treated as prey in return.

It was a novel experience.

Quite interesting, wasn’t it?

Xu Qinglai glanced at the screen and pressed the elevator button only after his subordinate left. He typed unhurriedly:

“Meeting at noon today, didn’t have time to eat.”

A relaxed smile bloomed on his face. After pondering possible replies from the other side, Xu Qinglai narrowed his eyes.

On the other end, Bo Ting set down his pen as he looked at the chat box.

Mr. Xu was so busy he hadn’t even eaten lunch.

With that thought, he couldn’t help typing a couple of caring messages.

“Even if you’re busy, take care of your health.”

After sending the message, Bo Ting frowned slightly.

Forget it. If Mr. Xu had another meeting soon, he shouldn’t disturb him. He’d talk tomorrow when there was time.

Observation wasn’t something that needed to happen in just one or two days anyway.

The caring words “take care” sat quietly in the chat box, appearing thoughtful and genuine.

The brief exchange of less than a minute still stood out starkly on the screen.

…

Observation of Mr. Xu paused for now. After closing his notebook, Bo Ting looked outside again.

“The sky outside the neighborhood looks no different from inside.”

“I wonder what Mengjia City is really like.”

If he weren’t an air conditioner right now, he would have gone out to see for himself.

Wait, but… his transformation into an air conditioner probably had nothing to do with the crossover, right?

Bo Ting suddenly hit on a key point and rubbed his chin.

The day he turned into an air conditioner was exactly the day of the crossover.

There had even been a total solar eclipse that day.

The young man’s expression turned strange as he stood lazily in the living room.

Doudou, who had snuck out early that morning to munch on dog food from the cabinet, froze. Fortunately, it quickly realized the human wasn’t looking at it.

The massive dog had just sighed in relief and was about to bury its head in the pile of kibble to enjoy its happy life when—

The next second, an ice-cold hand suddenly pinched its scruff.

Bo Ting’s eye twitched:

“You’re stealing dog food again, and you think I didn’t see?”

He wasn’t blind; how could he miss such a big dog head waving right in front of him!

…

The electric meter, which had run wild all night, returned to calm during the day.

Of course, Lu Jingshan couldn’t figure out the power source for Taiping Luxury Garden from the meter alone.

But he did barely discern that something had indeed happened inside the neighborhood last night.

Specifically, after the excessive usage last night, the morning’s consumption was suspiciously low.

Normally, Taiping Luxury Garden had some daytime usage data, but this morning, it was as if the entire neighborhood had fallen silent—no fluctuations at all.

Very strange.

But if linked to the phrase “day-night reversal,” it seemed normal again.

Lu Jingshan rubbed his face and grabbed the breakfast his vice-captain had bought, pointing at the screen:

“Doesn’t this look like a bunch of old folks who stayed up all night and couldn’t get up in the morning?”

Yin Liao twitched his lips. Don’t say it—though this metaphor humanized the weird too much, it actually made some sense upon reflection.

After all, based on the meter records, the neighborhood had peak usage every day at eight, like many households making breakfast.

Lu Jingshan shook his head slightly and suddenly sighed.

“Last time’s fishing attempt ended without a bite.”

“I feel like that dog food-buying resident won’t show up again anytime soon.”

They desperately needed more intel, but that was the hardest part to get.

Yin Liao understood. That dog food-buying weird was likely the only internal contact they’d had besides the dog in the video. If it really didn’t appear again, it would be a huge loss.

Two days straight now, and there’d been no sign of it on shopping apps or elsewhere.

Yin Liao thought for a moment before making a somewhat risky suggestion: “Should we try posting some info proactively?”

“Proactively?”

“What’s your idea?” Lu Jingshan asked instinctively.

Yin Liao frowned: “We found that weird initially through its shopping needs.”

“Now we’ve spooked it, and it won’t buy anymore, but if we put up ads or something on the app, it wouldn’t stop the weird from seeing them, right?”

“That’s true.”

Lu Jingshan nodded, not denying his vice-captain’s idea.

The other side not buying or popping up didn’t mean it wasn’t online—high-level weirds had no reason to avoid that.

“But what do we advertise?”

To make an impression on the shopping app, it had to poke the weird’s interest.

Otherwise, it’d just be wasting ad money.

Though the Resurgence Management Office had deals with the platforms, ads weren’t cheap.

Lu Jingshan winced at the thought.

Yin Liao looked helplessly at his captain, figuring the all-nighter had muddled his brain.

“You forgot—we’re advertising to the weird. It doesn’t take normal ad slots; we just layer on an ‘encrypted’ vibe only weirds can read.”

“It won’t cost much.”

“And as for the content…”

“Taiping Luxury Garden has stirred twice to fish other weirds. This weird neighborhood must crave devouring its kind.”

“We just release that info, and it should bite.”

Lu Jingshan snapped to, slapping the table: “Tch, this plan… it’s feasible!”

Half an hour later, the Third Esper Squad submitted their “ad slot request.”

The higher-ups weren’t sure if it’d work, but they were in trial-and-error mode anyway—even a dud was worth trying.

At the same time:

Shopping platforms across Mengjia City quietly gained an encrypted layer visible only to weird entities.

Tests showed normal residents saw the usual pages.

Weirds… saw something entirely different.

After the ad rollout, Sixth Squad’s Xue Hengfu leaned over for a peek and whistled:

“Whoa.”

“Isn’t this like ‘Ability Users Exchange Forum 2.0’?”

Except unlike the forum for their own kind, this page was for the weirds.

Xue Hengfu stroked his chin, thinking Vice-Captain Yin who came up with it was a genius.

He was even more shocked to see Captain Lu had thrown out heavy hitters like the “Anhua Road Private Hospital Morgue Incident.”

Messages flashed like ads on screen, all in eerie red font that made one uncomfortable.

But per Resurgence Management Office experience, weirds loved that vibe.

…

A few minutes later, bored while waiting for everyone to wake up, Bo Ting lounged on the sofa and opened his phone to kill time online.

Since the mystery was solved—the whole neighborhood had crossed over—he probably wasn’t targeted by scammers.

The ID verification thing? Cough, probably real.

After all… he really seemed to have no identity.

Bo Ting felt oddly guilty. Right before opening the shopping app, he half-expected another ID prompt.

But the next second, his gaze shifted, and he was startled by the suddenly refreshed page.

First glance: Weird.

Second: Wait.

Had Mangmang Shopping Platform changed?

Was it this color last time?

Black-and-white starkness filled the screen, like browsing a netherworld site.

And the popping items were all bizarre oddities.

What confused Bo Ting most was the top ad.

—”Jinding Peak… 122 deaths… SS-level killer weird.”

—”Anhua Road Private Hospital… 57 deaths, S-level weird.”

Strange ads scrolled by.

Bo Ting was first shocked by the death tolls, then suspected a virus.

Super creepy.

He twitched his lips, exited Mangmang Shopping Platform, and switched apps.

Like stuck with snail slime, a similar eerie page appeared again. Just like the ID verification—inescapable!

Bo Ting: …

Fine.

He’d see what this junk virus was about.

Expressionless, he clicked the creepiest ad: Jinding Peak Night Crying Woman.

First up: a string of odd photos.

Twisted mountain forests captured from various angles, with a vintage documentary feel from decades ago.

“Something’s up.”

But as Bo Ting looked down, a pile of garbled terms made his eyes glaze over.

What the hell?

His eyes scanned rapidly, brain stalling calmly.

By the end, he got it.

—A mass death event at a place called Jinding Peak.

Photos taken on the mountain.

“People heading up the mountain would call family and friends before dying, saying they heard a woman crying.”

“Hiss, creepy as hell.”

Bo Ting muttered, biting his lip.

But was Jinding Peak in Mengjia City?

He pondered uncertainly, wanting a city map.

…

Using weird events to lure kin was a first in years at the Resurgence Management Office.

After launching the ads, the Third Esper Squad monitored full-force.

Normally, mixed traffic on platforms made it hard to tell weirds from humans. But with special encryption, any click confirmed a weird.

Platform numbers stayed blank.

The squad wasn’t discouraged. They’d prepped for failure—this fishing was a long shot.

Hit or miss.

But minutes later, Wang Dong sipped coffee, then froze, checking the logs.

“Wait.”

“Did someone just click?”

“Not one of ours?” A teammate doubted.

Wang Dong hesitated:

“I’ll check.”

Moments later, he pocketed his phone, realizing how dumb his question was.

“No one from ours entered those platforms.”

“And… this is a weird-only page, right? Ability Users clicking in wouldn’t even register?”

“Though sites glitch sometimes.”

Wang Dong added that, but in context, he clicked the screen again seriously, suspecting a bite.

In the quiet office, Wang Dong and teammate Ma Xiaofeng held their breath.

The screen stayed unchanged.

Wang Dong whispered: “Is it still looking?”

“Probably?”

Ma Xiaofeng replied, both feeling uneasy.

Previously, they had chatted with the other party through the citizen exchange app, but that was under the watchful eyes of their superiors, with so many Ability Users around. Under that collective pressure, it had felt eerie but bearable.

But now… only the two of them were manning the “Mangmang Shopping Platform.” As the red timeline on the browsing duration stretched longer and longer, it sent chills straight down their spines.

For the moment, everyone was busy, and no one could be sure if something was happening on the other computers. So even with their suspicions, Wang Dong and Ma Xiaofeng could only wait a little longer.

At least… they needed confirmation first.

Time ticked by, one minute after another, but the website platform remained stagnant.

Then Wang Dong saw the ad page suddenly glitch, as if some unexpected malfunction had cropped up.

At this nail-biting moment when they were on the verge of successfully hooking their fish, the software lagged?!

“What the hell?”

Wang Dong froze for a second before urgently signaling his nearby teammate. “Hurry and get the technician!”

“This site’s network is acting up!”

Ma Xiaofeng nodded and stood up to head outside.

But as soon as his colleague left, Wang Dong frowned and grumbled a couple of times. When he turned back to the screen, he couldn’t help but rub his eyes.

“The page is back to normal?”

He muttered to himself.

The next second, a search bar popped up on the page that had just been frozen.

Right after—”Mengjia City Full City Map”—those characters slowly appeared on the screen.

Wang Dong stared blankly for a long moment before realizing that the other side was searching.

Holy shit.

Had he actually hooked a real “fish”?

Wait, no… His mind blanked out for a bit before the shock hit him fully. He widened his eyes:

“This weirdo wants to buy a map of Mengjia City?!”