Enforcer Manual
Chapter 382: Choosing a Lucky Audience Member_1

Chapter 382: Chapter 382: Choosing a Lucky Audience Member_1

Following the clues provided by Song Lan, Dr. Bai Zhu quickly uncovered some details they were unaware of.

They had originally thought it was the United Government that had appointed Fengling as Lu Xiang’s bodyguard, but the assignment was actually requested by Fengling herself. It was only after the vigorous endorsement of the Ragus Foundation that the candidate was firmly decided upon, despite considerable opposition.

The incident was full of mysteries.

The Ragus Foundation was the archenemy of powers such as the Foster Family. Its members were generally younger, and they were known to everyone by another name—the Innovator Faction.

For the past decade or so, in various core areas, they have been incessantly clashing with the Conservative Faction, resulting in many political issues becoming matters of allegiance.

Although District Seventeen had no dealings with the Innovator Faction, it had benefitted greatly from their actions.

On the issue of the Foster Family, the Innovator Faction utilized its usual tactics, igniting public uproar and delivering a crippling blow to them. The Fosters struggled to recover for a long time thereafter, too preoccupied to seek retribution against District Seventeen. Had it not been for the Foster Family’s extensive business and control over the United Government’s judicial system, they might have suffered a lasting downfall.

The head of the family, Hog Foster, earned the title of "Clown" precisely because of the Ragus Foundation’s active maneuvers in the background.

"Before Fengling submitted her application to the Review Meeting, a vice-chairperson of the Ragus Foundation had visited them."

What was communicated that night remains unknown, but as a result, Fengling, who had long stayed away from worldly affairs, for the first time proactively requested to undertake a mission. The Ragus Foundation, in turn, quelled opposition from all pharmaceutical companies, thereby facilitating this development.

Medea had an epiphany, "No wonder those pharmaceutical companies released people."

It appeared that not only Fengling, but the current situation of the United Government was also elusive.

"Don’t let irrelevant matters distract your vision."

Song Lan voiced his opinion at the Bug Swarm meeting. He believed that the vendetta between the Conservative and Innovator Factions was none of their business and that whatever conspiracy they were brewing should not impede their pursuit of constructing the Void Paradise.

An incident last night had sparked a new idea in him.

For the Bug Swarm, the Void’s existence was not just a universal scapegoat; the discussions about the Void and the belief in its existence provided them with significant "energy." Oberna had promoted the evolution of the Devourers through public-facing live broadcasts.

Today’s meeting agenda focused on how to get more people involved.

"We can pay attention to those applying to join the Void Investigation Bureau and select a few ’lucky audience members’ from among them."

Despite Father Bruno’s extensive experience, having a variety of different "Adventurers" share their Void survival tales would be more convincing than his dry fabrications alone.

"Are you suggesting we involve ordinary citizens?"

Lu Xiang was the first to raise doubts.

Every time she attended a Bug Swarm meeting, she felt more and more like a villain.

"Of course, ’lucky audience members’ are not enemies of the Bug Swarm. We must put safety first, aiming to maintain their positive experience while allowing them the option to leave the Void."

Therefore, they needed to first eliminate individuals with diseases such as heart conditions or high blood pressure.

"I think ordinary people can’t handle this kind of thing."

Medea said, "Cloud Biological Pharmaceutical once conducted a similar experiment. If people live in a world where reality and hallucinations intermingle for long periods, they are highly likely to go insane and become extremely aggressive. In the experiment, 92% of participants descended into madness and ultimately died from fighting each other."

Even the researchers didn’t know what the subjects had seen in the hallucinations, but the manner of their fighting indicated that it was certainly not anything good.

"So we need to keep a margin between reality and the Void, allowing them to distinguish between the two."

"How do we do that?"

"Set up a guide."

A capable guide can bring hope to those who are lost and better lead the "Adventurers" in the desired direction.

"A guide?"

"The guide must possess excellent adaptability and be eloquent, able to guide the ’Adventurers’ to make correct judgments in any emergency, and furthermore..."

Song Lan’s recitation came to an abrupt halt as he noticed the mood in the meeting room was somewhat off, "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"That’s you!"

Everyone in the meeting room reached a consensus; it was evident that Song Lan perfectly embodied all the qualities of an excellent guide. Besides, the idea had been his, and no one else understood better how to guide a hapless "Adventurer" to survive in the world of the Void.

"You can start by giving us a demonstration."

............

1:03 PM, a prosthetic hospital in the western suburbs.

"Big Radish Head" had completed the last check-up and swallowed the extremely bitter pills. Under the impatient urging of the nurse, he slowly gathered his belongings.

His only possessions were actually the leather jacket he had changed out of when he was brought to the prosthetic hospital yesterday.

The reason for his dawdling was that he didn’t want to leave the prosthetic hospital.

He didn’t know why the usually brutal Lu Xiang had spared him, but this was definitely not a good sign. Perhaps the madwoman with the knife was lurking outside the hospital right now.

He had pretended to have a headache and stomach ache all night, and now, the prosthetic hospital was finally going to kick him out.

"Big Radish Head" was his online nickname, chosen on a whim without any particular meaning. He just hadn’t expected that an online argument would nearly cost him his life.

He changed out of the hospital gown, put on his leather jacket, and reverted to his usual rebellious punk look. Under the disdainful gaze of the nurse, he left the ward.

But as the saying goes, when you’re down on your luck, even drinking water can get stuck in your teeth. The hospital’s elevator was broken, forcing him, who was barely recovering from a serious injury, to take the safety staircase down.

The sixth floor wasn’t particularly high or low. Normally, he would have gone down without a second thought, but as soon as he opened a crack in the safety passage door, he felt an ominous chill.

The lighting was dim, perfect for an ambush.

"Excuse me..."

He turned to a passing cleaner and asked, "Do you have a minute? Can you come down with me?"

"No time!"

The refusal was decisive, leaving him no room for negotiation.

"Big Radish Head" hesitated at the entrance of the safety passage for a while, but finally gritted his teeth and trudged forward. As a gang member who had been hustling in the streets since childhood, he considered himself experienced in tough situations. Could he really be frightened by a mere safety passage?

He took each step with extreme caution, looking in every direction, listening to every sound, determined to die knowing the cause if it came to that.

Descending each floor took a tremendous amount of effort, and whether it was an illusion or not, the light in the stairwell seemed to be getting dimmer. Another confusing issue was the apparent lack of business at the prosthetic hospital; he hadn’t encountered a single person in such a long time.

Just a bit more!

With that thought, he struggled down another five flights of stairs.

Come on, almost there!

"Big Radish Head" leaned against the iron door at his side, and a pungent smell of rust started to fill the air.

"Huh?"

It finally dawned on him that there was a serious issue. How many floors had he descended exactly?

"Six minus three minus five..."

A simple arithmetic question popped into his head, so easy a three-year-old could answer it.

"Equals two!"

After a moment of hesitation, he arrived at the answer to the problem, "Just two more floors to go, two floors, two floors..."

He assured himself with conviction and moved his hand away from the security door, forcibly ignoring the sticky, disgusting feeling in his palms, not daring to look at it.

"Just two more floors to go!"

The stairwell was so quiet that only his footsteps could be heard, each level looking similar to the last.

Except for the doors.

The paint on the doors was starting to peel off.

He remembered reading about a similar scenario on that website.

A staircase that never ends, with no knowing where it leads.

No matter whether one went up or down, one would end up in the same place, with the level of pollution in the space getting worse and worse.

"Pollution."

"Constantly corroding everything around."

"I don’t know where it originates from, but the ceiling, doors, walls, and stairs are all contaminated."

"*Do not let the rust touch you*

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