The chemistry laboratory secured by the seventeenth mark was a blank space on the map.
In the Administration's internal system, this building had been marked as "demolished" since 1998, with complete demolition records and ledgers tracking the flow of every piece of rebar and cement. But in reality, it stood perfectly intact in the deepest part of the Old campus, its walls peeling, windows sealed with wooden bars, the door's notice reading "Biohazard Materials Processing Room" in red ink from 1998, not washed away by a single drop of rain.
"Rule rewrite," Gu Yan stood before the building, scanning the door with his tablet. "Someone used Narrative Authority in 1998 to rewrite this building's Existence definition. Not that it wasn't demolished, but that everyone 'believed' it had been demolished."
"Including the Administration?" Tang Lan asked.
"Including the Administration," he said. "This is Erosion's work, Scarlet's adoptive father. He buried his own War Authority fragment here, and buried a building as a tombstone while he was at it."
"Going in?" Zhou Fang weighed his Jammer. "Interference range covers two floors."
"We're not going in," Shen Xingyao said. "If we go in, we enter Scarlet's Script. We'll wait outside."
"Wait for what?"
"For her to open the door." She looked toward the lab's windows—the third one, sealed most tightly with wooden bars. "She wrote over two hundred chapters of a life-and-death game. She won't let us die in chapter one."
The moment she finished speaking, the wooden bars on that window fell off on their own. Not from weathering, not from rot, but from the rule-level "nonexistence." The bars hit the ground without sound, as if muted.
The window opened automatically, revealing darkness within.
[Come in, did you bring the workbook?]
Golden text materialized on the window glass, but it wasn't Image Master's handwriting. This handwriting was sharper, like it had been carved with a knife.
"Scarlet." Lin Jin said, "It's her."
"Not her," Shen Xingyao corrected. "It's her presence. She's deeper inside. This is just a sticky note written with her Authority."
A sticky note? Using War Authority to write a sticky note—only Scarlet could pull that off.
"Let's go in." Shen Xingyao was the first to walk toward the entrance, "But don't use the door. Use the window."
"Why?"
"The door means 'entering,' the window means 'peeking.'" She said, "Peeking doesn't count as entering the Script."
She snapped her fingers. A spatial mark landed on the windowsill—not the complete seventeen, just one.
"Mark your coordinate." She told Lin Jin, "After entering, no matter what happens, don't move more than three meters from the windowsill."
"Three meters?"
"Three meters is the safety zone," Gu Yan explained. "Beyond that, your 'Existence' will be captured by the lab's narrative rules, turning you into a character in Scarlet's story."
I nodded, climbed onto the windowsill, and was about to jump in when Shen Xingyao pulled me back.
"The workbook." She said, "Give it to me."
"What?"
"The fifteenth specialized training workbook." She reached out. "You tore half of it for Imitation. The remaining half is with me."
She really pulled out that half-torn Script from her cloak. It still had my pencil shavings on it.
"Scarlet wants the complete workbook." She said, "I'll give it to her, but she has to trade for it."
"Trade for what?"
"Zhou Fang's life." She said, "Before Imitation disappeared, it left a contamination seed of War Authority on Zhou Fang. If not removed within three days, he'll become Scarlet's puppet."
Only then did I notice Zhou Fang's face was paler than this morning, his lips purple.
"Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"If I said it earlier, you'd panic." She released her grip. "Saying it now, you'll stay calm."
She pushed me, and I tumbled into the laboratory.
---
The inside wasn't a laboratory, but a theater.
The audience seats were empty. In the center of the stage stood a desk. On the desk lay a workbook, opened to page 47.
Specialized derivative training, question 47.
The problem: Find the derivative of f(x)=ln(x+√(1+x²)).
It was complex. I calculated it three times, got three answers.
[Keep writing]
Golden text materialized on the desk—Scarlet's handwriting.
"Write what?"
[Write your answers, all three of them]
I pulled out my HB Pencil and wrote the first answer in the workbook. The moment I finished, the stage curtains drew open.
Behind the curtains was Changzheng High School's chemistry lab.
Teacher Zhang stood at the lectern, conducting an experiment. Alcohol lamp, beaker, test tubes—everything looked normal.
But the test tube in his hand didn't contain reagent—it held golden liquid.
"Lin Jin, you're here." He turned around, his face blurred as if shrouded in mist. "I submitted your homework for you."
"To whom?"
"To the one it should be submitted to." He said, "You got one question wrong. I corrected it for you."
He raised the test tube and poured the golden liquid into the beaker.
The liquid boiled, emitting text:
[Specialized derivative training, question 47, correct answer: C]
C? I wrote A, B, and D—three answers, none of them C.
"You corrected it wrong." I said, "C is incorrect."
"You're the one who's wrong." He said, "The Administration's standard answer is C."
"The Administration's standard isn't my standard."
"Then what is your standard?"
"My standard is—" I crossed out C with my HB Pencil and wrote, "There is no standard answer."
The stage laboratory began collapsing. Teacher Zhang let out a scream like chalk scraping on a blackboard.
The curtains fell. The theater returned to silence.
[Not bad]
The words on the desk changed, carrying a tone of amusement.
[But not enough]
[Question 48, finish it]
I flipped to question 48. It was composite function derivation, even harder.
I wrote three answers. The moment my pen stopped, the curtains drew open again.
This time, the stage showed the Administration's briefing room.
Shen Xingyao sat at a desk, signing documents. What she signed was Lin Jin's Dismissal Notice.
"Captain Shen?" I called out.
She looked up, her face also blurred: "You wrote it wrong, Lin Jin. You shouldn't have torn up the Script."
"If I didn't tear it, Zhou Fang would die."
"Whether Zhou Fang lives or dies is unimportant." She said, "What's important is that your story must be complete."
She pushed the document toward me: "Sign it. Sign it, and you'll be free."
I took the pen. Not a HB Pencil, but a ballpoint pen. The pen barrel was ice-cold, like a scalpel.
"Sign." She said, "Sign it, and you won't be B-07 Squad's burden anymore."
I didn't sign. Instead, I wrote with my HB Pencil on the document:
[Hereby, this dismissal is invalid]
The characters glowed silver-white. The document burst into flames.
The Shen Xingyao on stage screamed, just like Teacher Zhang, like chalk scraping.
The curtains fell.
[Continue]
The words on the desk appeared for the third time.
[Question 49]
As I wrote question 49, the stage curtains didn't open again. Instead, the entire theater began to rotate.
Golden text materialized on the audience seats, forming lines of rules:
[Chapter One: Tang Lan's Shield Shatters]
[Chapter Two: Zhou Fang's Jammer Overloads]
[Chapter Three: Gu Yan Miscalculated His Sister's Birthday]
[Chapter Four: Shen Xingyao Kills Lin Jin]
"This is the Script." I said, "The Script that Scarlet wrote."
[Correct]
The words on the desk admitted.
[You tore half of it. The remaining half must be filled in]
"If I fill it in, they'll die."
[If you don't fill it in, they'll die even faster]
"Why?"
[Because War Authority requires sacrifices]
[For every question you write, I kill one person]
[Complete all fifty questions, the sacrifices are gathered, and war begins]
I looked down. The workbook flipped to the end, question 50.
Blank.
[Write]
[When you finish, you'll be my First Apostle]
[If you don't write, your teammates start dying now]
From outside the theater came a muffled groan. It was Zhou Fang's voice.
I rushed over, but between the stage and audience seats stood an invisible wall.
Written in gold on the wall:
[Admission Ticket: One Corroded Teammate]
Zhou Fang stood outside the wall. The golden text on his chest spread again, faster and fiercer than before.
"Lin Jin!" He shouted, "Don't write! If you write, you won't be able to come back!"
But I had already started writing.
In the blank space of question 50, I wrote with my HB Pencil:
[War Authority requires sacrifices]
[But my Authority is Narrative]
[Narrative doesn't need sacrifices. Narrative only needs readers]
The characters glowed. The entire theater began to collapse.
Imitation's voice came from all directions, filled with fury and terror: "You rewrote the rules!"
"Correct." I said, "I changed 'War' to 'Exam.'"
"Exam?"
"Yes." I said, "An exam requires a grader. You—"
I pointed with my HB Pencil toward the audience seats, toward those golden words, toward Scarlet who couldn't be seen behind the curtains:
"You are my grader."
"And I am your examinee."
[Submitting the exam]
These two words I wrote made the entire laboratory explode.
---
15:47, outside the laboratory.
Shen Xingyao watched the window erupt with silver light, her face grim.
"He rewrote War Authority's core rules," Gu Yan said. "From 'sacrifices' to 'exam,' from 'devouring' to 'being reviewed.'"
"What will happen to Scarlet?"
"She'll go insane," White Gloves said. "She wrote over two hundred chapters of Script, and Lin Jin turned it into a multiple-choice question."
"What about Zhou Fang?"
"The Corrosion stopped," Gu Yan said. "Because the rule's source was rewritten, Imitation lost its power source."
The window shattered. I climbed out from inside, clutching a half-burned workbook.
"The workbook." I handed it to Shen Xingyao. "She wanted this. I gave her half."
"What about the other half?"
"In my head." I said, "She said the story is written, it's time for the ending."
"What's the ending?"
I smiled, raising my HB Pencil. The crack on the barrel deepened by another inch:
"The ending is, the grader became the examinee."
"And I am the one grading."