Chapter Forty-Seven: The Game of Burning Words
Section One: The Inescapable Trap of an Open Conspiracy
The Central Imperial Oversight Office, a sealed tactical strategy meeting room. Thick alloy walls blocked all external signals. At the long table sat several core executives, with TRACE's Chief Overseer, Herman, at the center.
"This damned double-fire conspiracy—it's going to drive us all insane." He snapped his head up, his voice grinding with barely contained fury.
"What's the matter?" a political officer ventured cautiously from the side.
"Tell me, who is the Fire?" Herman asked, his tone cold and razor-sharp.
"Those who oppose the Empire, who fight against us—aren't they the Fire?" a tactical advisor blurted out.
"Fight against us? Some organizations out there pursue their own interests and inevitably clash with us—are they all Fire?"
"Well, of course they are. Isn't that obvious?"
"Obvious, is it?" Herman's voice dropped, his gaze cutting like a blade. "You genius, if you label them as Fire, are you trying to make every organization turn against us? By defining them as Fire, you force them to rebel."
He paused, then continued, "What if those organizations aren't Fire at all, just minor frictional conflicts? Are you going to make the Empire—enemies of the entire world?"
"Well… we could investigate. Send spies to check things out."
"Send spies? Fine, you send them. If they get caught, what will those organizations think? They'll think the Empire suspects them."
"And if they come to us to explain themselves, do we believe them or not? Do you know whether to trust them? If you don't, what do you do?"
"If they kill the spy, does that confirm they're Fire? If they don't, would you, in their position, let someone poke around your secrets?"
"Sending spies pushes them to rebel. Not sending them means you'll never know if they're Fire or not."
"Hiss… then do nothing?"
"Do nothing? If you do nothing, you're letting them grow unchecked. They might even want us to sit idle."
"So, do we act or not?"
"You were so clever just now. Tell me, what do we do?"
"Uh…"
"You think that's the end of it? There's more."
Herman swept his gaze across the room, each word deliberate and heavy:
"Local officials, for their own gain, might frame a rival organization as Fire. How does that group prove they're not?"
"If an organization jumps out and declares they're not Fire, they're cutting themselves off from the world, from justice. The people will shun them, and those within who want to be Fire will abandon them, maybe even split and seize power."
"You're the leader of an organization—do you dare say you're not Fire?"
"I… probably wouldn't say I'm not Fire."
"So you're saying you are Fire?"
"I… I didn't say that!"
"Then you're saying you're not Fire?"
"I—damn it, I'm not saying anything!"
"Not saying anything? When officials claim you're Fire, and you believe you're not, can you say you're not? Do you dare say you are? So you stay silent? Does that mean you're admitting the officials are right—that you're Fire?"
"I… I… are you trying to kill me? Fine, I'll just rebel!"
"Exactly! If local officials question like this, even to ordinary people, they're defining Fire—forcing the people to revolt."
His voice surged abruptly: "Tell me, how many officials down there have done this for their own gain?"
"Then don't question, right?"
"Don't question? Don't investigate? Don't arrest? Are you telling everyone to go ahead and grow, to think about whether they want to be Fire?"
"And the real Dark Fire and Bright Fire will spread like wildfire."
"Then… secret arrests?"
"Arrest who? Do you even know?"
"Well… arrest anyone who fits the profile?"
"Fine, go arrest them. How do you ensure no one finds out? If your friend gets arrested, won't you notice?"
"And how do you guarantee no mistakes? Won't those at the bottom arrest rivals or covet someone's beauty?"
"Then don't arrest?"
"Not arresting takes us right back here—the Empire tacitly allows them to grow?"
"Then we have to arrest."
"Arresting tells everyone—the Empire is afraid of them."
"Tell me, won't some people get curious and join them?"
"What do we do then?"
"You think that's the end of it?"
Herman leaned forward, his voice low, like a blade against the throat:
"If an organization steps forward and declares themselves Fire—what do we do?"
"That's obvious. Crush them!"
"You're right, we must deal with them."
"But if one organization reports a rival as Fire, making a huge fuss, do we strike?"
"Strike! Better to kill the wrong one than let one slip!"
"Good, you strike. But if the targeted group reports the other as Fire, do we strike again?"
"Well… strike them too?"
"Strike? Fine, go ahead. But what if the report came from the real Fire?"
"Uh… that…"
"Then we're just the Fire's hired muscle—are you that stupid?"
"If every organization starts reporting each other as Fire, do we believe them or not?"
"Strike them all? That's making enemies of the world!"
"That's… too ruthless, isn't it?"
"There's more."
Herman leaned closer, his tone a chilling whisper:
"If we don't believe the reports, the real Fire can grow unchecked. They might even send people to claim they're Fire—do you believe them or not?"
"Believe them and strike—you might be played."
"Don't believe them, let them grow, and lose the Empire's authority because you did nothing."
"So tell me, what do we do?"
—
The room fell deathly silent. Only the tense sound of breathing and the faint creak of clenched fists broke the stillness.
Suddenly, a security advisor slammed both hands on the table, roaring:
"Who the hell came up with this strategy?!"
"This—damn it, we can't do anything, and even doing nothing is part of their blasted plan!"
Another voice joined, bellowing: "This isn't a strategy! I've never seen—no, no one's ever seen anything like this!"
"A strategy? A tactic? No! This is the devil! It's pure devilry!"
"We're facing some shapeless, nameless thing… and we're powerless against it!"
"If there's a way—please, tell me, what do I do?!"
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
☰ Di Lei Fu (Earth Thunder Return) — In the extreme of action, reflection breeds change.
→ When the enemy's cunning borders on madness, the attack on the heart begins with the despair of reason. A strategy's success lies not in overpowering force but in the enemy's self-abandonment.
Section Two: Refinery's Half-Fall, The Fire Yet to Blaze
The eastern outskirts of Refinery Commune, beneath the power supply tower's lower work shaft. Cables hung like vines, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of welding residue. Hark, wearing micro-goggles, inspected an outdated data synchronization unit, while two technicians behind him exchanged furtive glances.
"You're not here to fix equipment, are you?" a young technician whispered, his fingers absently tugging at a connection wire.
Hark didn't look up. "Do I look like I am?"
"More like you're waiting for someone."
Before the words settled, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the shaft's entrance. Jason descended the metal ladder with Zhao Mingxuan and Maria, their attire plain, devoid of military markings, yet their presence pressed down like a tide of sinking sand.
"You're handling this personally… for the Commune?" Hark's tone carried neither excessive courtesy nor hostility.
Jason skipped pleasantries, cutting straight to the point: "We're not here to take over. We have one question—does Refinery want to survive, or does it want to keep being defined?"
Hark's gaze flickered. "That's not a question answered in a single sentence."
"Then we don't ask for your stance, only your reaction." Zhao Mingxuan pulled out a data rod and plugged it into the unit's port. "This is an ARGUS meme-testing module, tailored for Refinery. It monitors 'non-directed collaboration' fields."
"You've been watching us all along?"
"Not watching—waiting," Maria added. "The first to waver shows who's ready to break from the system."
The unit's screen flickered to life, displaying meme flows in three colors: blue for system dependency, gray for ambiguous neutrality, and red for—thoughts adrift, primed for faith activation.
Hark stared at the growing red zones on the map, his throat tightening imperceptibly.
"See that?" Jason said calmly. "It's not you deciding whether to approach the Fire. Your people are already choosing."
"You're so sure Refinery will end up on your side?"
"We're not recruiting," Jason replied, his tone unwavering. "We're just standing here, waiting for them to walk toward us."
Silence gripped the scene for a few seconds.
Hurried footsteps clattered from the shaft above. A breathless female Refinery clerk rushed in, clutching a sheet of paper freshly printed from an ARGUS peripheral node.
"Hark, three equipment teams in the South District… they didn't wait for orders. They've started collaborating on their own to debug the old system, even pulling parts from private reserve stocks."
"Who's behind it?"
"No one. They said—'Someone might check on us, so we'd better not screw up.'"
Hark looked at the paper and let out a low chuckle. "Now I understand what they mean by 'faith unignited, yet the Fire takes form.'"
—
On the other side, at the outpost.
The ARGUS map showed "Refinery Node Activity" climbing from 0.65 to 0.82, with "non-directed behaviors" rising steadily over three hours.
Jason stood before the projection, murmuring, "At this stage, the Fire doesn't need to blaze. We just need to see the 'loss of order's focus.'"
Zhao Mingxuan responded, "TRACE's system is lagging half a step behind Refinery's moves. No action from them yet."
"They won't move," Maria said, her gaze steady. "If they did, they'd have to explain why an organization supposedly 'stably tethered to the system' is starting to waver."
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
Shui Ji Ming (Water Surge Song) — As quoted in Han Feizi, Forest of Persuasions I:
"When water is stirred, it sings; when people are stirred, they think."
→ Faith does not always shout slogans; it ferments quietly in the most silent actions.
Section Three: Refinery's Choice, Whoever Moves Burns
Refinery Commune, South District, reactor maintenance sector, mid-afternoon.
Three technicians in work gear were hoisting a high-pressure ion circulation pump from a faulty conduit. They weren't following the shift schedule but had gathered on their own, swapping in sealed components from an old warehouse stockpile.
"Parts like these normally require a requisition," one whispered, caution in his voice.
"No one's checking," another dismissed, waving a hand. "ARGUS flagged our 'self-initiated collaboration rate' as rising. That's a plus."
"But what if this is a test from the Fire?"
"Test or not," the hum of the hoist drowned out the words, "who dares say they're not Fire these days?"
—
Ten kilometers away, Refinery Commune, temporary data review room.
Hark sat at the main console, scrutinizing ARGUS's "behavioral meme analysis" reports line by line. In the corner, Jason and his team observed silently.
"South District self-initiated collaboration consensus: 72%."
"Central District anomalous collaborative behaviors: up to 12."
"East District mainline backup data feedback: traces of an unauthorized meme echo."
Zhao Mingxuan narrowed his eyes. "This means someone's already 'rehearsing'—treating the Fire as a new order."
"They're waiting for a spark," Maria said evenly.
Hark's fingers paused as a red line crept across the screen. "We're becoming that spark."
Jason met his gaze. "So you need to decide. Keep pretending you don't see it, or be the first to face it clearly."
—
Hark didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pressed the communicator. "Bring Wen Ce in."
Moments later, a sallow-faced man nearing fifty was escorted in. Wen Ce, Refinery's finance officer, was known for his caution.
"Wen Ce," Hark locked eyes with him, "I need you to open a reserve supply chain, bypassing the higher-ups, circulating only among our teams."
Wen Ce's face paled. "What are you doing? That's tantamount to…"
"Treason?" Hark cut him off. "I'm not that foolish."
"Then what—"
"I'm protecting us." Hark's gaze was cold and unyielding. "Right now, we're like a wolf pacing the edge of a fire. Get too close, your hide burns. Stray too far, your back becomes a target."
"So we stand on the ash line," he said. "Harmless enough, but dangerous enough."
—
At the outpost.
ARGUS updated its feedback:
[Refinery · South District reserve supply chain switched successfully · Unreported to system]
[Captured meme tag: "Non-defection · Self-protective collaboration"]
Jason murmured, "Good."
Zhao Mingxuan slid aside a screen, revealing a holographic circuit map. "Next, we let TRACE see this line, but not who laid it."
"An exposed fuse, an unknown source," Maria said with a faint smile. "Nothing's more unsettling."
Jason nodded. "Release a signal packet—hint at 'organized' infiltration in Refinery, but keep the meme trails too chaotic to judge."
"When TRACE can't pin it down, they'll start flailing," Zhao Mingxuan said, his lips curling slightly.
—
TRACE System, Northern Oversight Outpost.
"Refinery Commune sent a meme activity anomaly packet," a technician reported.
The officer frowned. "Can you pinpoint the source?"
"No. The data structure's too muddled, likely an echo from old nodes."
"Then how do we handle it?"
The officer's voice was cold. "Log it, but don't act. We're not chasing threads—we need a person."
"They don't show themselves, we don't move."
—
At the outpost.
The ARGUS interface refreshed steadily: "Meme interference successful, TRACE in observation mode."
Jason studied the red curve. "The situation's set. Next—let them choose their path."
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
San Lue Xia Lue (Three Strategies, Lower Strategy) — As quoted:
"Those who know the enemy's heart will surely triumph in war."
→ The art of luring the enemy lies not in crafting illusions but in forcing them to choose for themselves.
Section Four: The First Spark of the Fireline, Who Breaks the Stalemate
Refinery Commune, Western District outskirts, abandoned reactor management station.
Several decommissioned electrothermal focusing towers stood, their shells cracked and layered with graffiti, like a silent gallery of scars. Though unmanned, the area buzzed with dense ARGUS signals.
Welles, leading a two-person Starfire team, set up a portable signal interceptor at the entrance.
"The ARGUS feedback here's stronger than in the city core," a team member muttered.
"Gray End said this was once a 'simulated faith field,'" Welles explained. "People practiced 'crowd-guiding meme language' here. A bunch died—not from the Fire, but from faith overload."
Another crouched to inspect a faded slogan on a crumbling wall, murmuring, "'If you don't dare be the Fire, don't fan the wind'… who wrote this?"
"No one knows," Welles said, gazing at the rust-streaked tower husks. "But that line's becoming reality now."
—
At the outpost.
Zhao Mingxuan received an update from the Western District signal packet:
[Meme resurgence detected · Crowd spontaneously forms "Old Tower Cleanup Crew"]
[Triggered keywords: "Protect the old site · Self-ordered"]
"They're actually moving," he said.
Jason remained silent, his eyes fixed on the faintly glowing green node in the Western District.
"ARGUS suggests deploying a 'micro-regulation factor'?"
"No," Jason replied evenly. "Any artificial interference would disrupt the natural flow of this ambiguous consensus."
"Let them believe it's truly their own decision."
—
Refinery, southeastern corner, auxiliary power well channel.
Two youths in mismatched gear whispered in the shadows.
"Did you see that data graph? The signals in the West are going wild."
"I heard it's because they've 'formed their own system' out there. Even ARGUS doesn't dare label them as Fire."
"So what do we do?"
"Do something," one said, his eyes clouded with complexity. "Not for the Fire—just… we can't keep waiting for orders."
Before his words faded, he turned and headed deeper into the well, starting to inspect old energy conduits.
—
TRACE Oversight Group, Refinery monitoring frontline.
"Report: large-scale synchronized behavior detected in the Western District."
"No clear traces of organized control."
"Send drones for reconnaissance?"
The overseer closed the report with a slow, deliberate motion. "Keep observing. Don't move. Let's see who cracks first."
—
At the outpost.
Maria projected a "self-initiated collaboration point distribution map" onto the table.
"The fireline's been drawn," she said softly.
"The Fire hasn't ignited," Jason corrected. "But the break is already on its way."
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
Han Feizi, Forest of Persuasions I — As quoted:
"The affliction of men lies in their eagerness to teach others."
→ True guidance does not issue commands but creates choices in silence.
Section Five: The Eve of the Break, Who Raises the Fire First
Refinery Commune, western signal relay room, old machinery corridor.
Flickering fluorescent lights cast a feeble glow. The walls were plastered with expired work schedules and cryptic graffiti, some mundane reminders, others indecipherable codes readable only by ARGUS node scanners.
Hark paced slowly inside, trailed by two technical specialists. His gaze swept over a faintly glowing indicator light by the door, and he nodded.
"Activate the 'silent eavesdropping protocol,'" he said.
"Authorization check?"
"Use mine." His words were a gamble, spoken with quiet resolve.
The two subordinates exchanged a glance but didn't object. A gray-white data terminal hummed to life, its ARGUS halo glowing softly as a thread-like meme flow sliced across the screen:
[Current Status: Observing · Guiding · Non-Interfering]
Hark's voice was low. "Does it know we're watching?"
The system offered no reply, but he already knew the answer.
—
Inside the outpost.
Zhao Mingxuan linked a dark-line channel, a red dot pulsing on the ARGUS beacon.
"Hark's activated the old protocol."
"He's no longer just watching," Jason replied coolly.
"What's his next move?"
"Probing. Testing the system's reaction, the crowd's reaction, and whether we'll jump in."
"And we—"
"Stay silent," Jason cut in, his tone absolute. "This is a 'self-igniting Fire' experiment. No interference."
—
Under the night's cover, Refinery's South District outskirts echoed with the scrape of metal against ground.
A group of youths were repositioning damaged warning barriers. They wore no organizational insignia and followed no orders. After resetting the barriers, they quietly erected an old sign:
"Restricted Area, No Entry."
"Think this'll do anything?" one asked with a chuckle.
"Doesn't matter if it works," another replied. "What matters is we're doing something."
In the distance, an elderly woman parked her small cart at a street corner, setting out a stack of bread with a simple cardboard sign: "Free." The word, crude but stark, stood out in the dim light.
—
The ARGUS interface updated.
[Keyword surge: "Consensus" · "Protection" · "Ourselves"]
[Meme intensity breaches 0.8 critical threshold]
Zhao Mingxuan looked up. "It's… self-igniting."
Jason closed his eyes, murmuring, "We didn't light it, but this Fire is burning on the fuse we laid."
—
TRACE Control Room.
"There's no leader," an analyst reported.
"Then tell me—how are they acting in unison?" Herman snapped.
The analyst's face twisted in frustration. "Meme synchronization. It's a crowd-driven resonance wave."
"You're sure?" Herman sneered. "You want me to tell the higher-ups that 'the air infected their loyalty'?"
No one dared respond.
—
At the outpost.
ARGUS auto-delivered a report:
[Consensus meme achievement rate: 92%]
[Refinery Commune current assessment: Non-Enemy · Non-Ally · Indeterminate · Recommend continued observation]
Jason stood, gazing out into the dark night.
"Next, they'll come to us—asking if the Fire is willing to hear them speak."
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
Huang Shigong's Three Strategies — As quoted:
"The skilled warrior leaves no glorious mark; the cunning strategist conceals their name."
→ Let the enemy fail to find you, and let allies believe they chose you themselves.
Section Six: The Fire's Whisper, Unseen but Unstoppable
Refinery Commune, central data hub, predawn.
The hum of cooling units filled the air, a low pulse beneath the weight of silence. Dim monitors flickered with streams of unprocessed data, their light casting jagged shadows across rusted control panels. A single technician, unnoticed by the system, lingered at a terminal, typing a string of code that would vanish into the ARGUS network without a trace.
Hark stood at the hub's edge, staring out through a cracked observation window. The skyline of Refinery was a tangle of smokestacks and skeletal cranes, faintly lit by the first gray of dawn. His breath fogged the glass, a fleeting mark of his presence.
"They're not waiting for us anymore," he said, half to himself.
Maria, leaning against a nearby console, tilted her head. "They never were. They were waiting for permission to think."
Jason stepped forward, his voice steady as stone. "And now they've granted it to themselves. The Fire doesn't need a leader—it needs a mirror."
Hark turned, his eyes sharp but weary. "You're saying we're done here?"
"No," Jason replied. "We're saying you've begun."
—
Across Refinery's districts, small acts of defiance bloomed like sparks in dry grass. A maintenance crew rerouted power to a neglected sector without clearance. A clerk slipped an unlogged report into the communal archive, its words echoing the meme of "self-ordered survival." In a shadowed alley, a child scrawled "We Are" on a wall, leaving the rest unfinished.
ARGUS registered each act, its interface pulsing with new data:
[Non-directed consensus rate: 95%]
[Meme propagation velocity: Exponential · Untraceable to single source]
Zhao Mingxuan watched the numbers climb, his expression unreadable. "It's not ours anymore."
"It never was," Maria said, her voice a quiet blade. "We just gave it a name."
—
TRACE Oversight Station, southern perimeter.
Herman sat alone in a sterile command room, the glow of a tactical map painting his face in cold blues. Reports piled on his desk, each stamped "Indeterminate." The latest flagged Refinery as a "low-priority anomaly," but the word "Fire" lingered in the margins, unacknowledged yet undeniable.
"They're not fighting us," he muttered. "They're ignoring us."
An aide hesitated at the door. "Orders, sir?"
Herman's jaw tightened. "Watch. Wait. And pray we're not already burning."
—
At the outpost.
Jason stood before the ARGUS map, its nodes now a constellation of red and gray. The Fire had no center, no leader, only a momentum that refused to be named.
Zhao Mingxuan broke the silence. "What now? We step back?"
Jason's gaze didn't waver. "We don't step anywhere. We let them carry the Fire—and we watch how far it spreads."
A faint smile crossed Maria's lips. "They'll ask for us soon. Not as masters, but as witnesses."
—
[Fuxi Prompt]
Zhuangzi, The Way of Heaven — As quoted:
"Where words fail, the heart speaks; where form fades, the way emerges."
→ The Fire is not kindled by command but by the silent consent of those who dare to act. Its victory lies not in conquest but in becoming inevitable.