He had successfully bypassed the loosely guarded perimeter and, taking advantage of brief gaps in the surveillance cameras and blind spots, infiltrated an abandoned area on the side of the main building. Just now, like a gecko, he used the pipes and air conditioner units on the exterior wall to climb to a broken window on the second floor and enter a dusty, abandoned warehouse.
After a brief reconnaissance, he confirmed his current location. He was still some distance from the core area of the main building, but he had successfully entered the building.
Emerging from the warehouse, he found himself in a dimly lit corridor. Falcon pressed himself against the wall, his ears catching every sound around him. Footsteps, conversations, even the hum of electricity—he could distinguish them all clearly.
He moved like a ghost, evading the first patrol of guards. These guards were well-equipped, moved with a steady gait, and were clearly highly trained, not ordinary security personnel.
Instead of choosing the main road, Falcon used his memory of the building's structural plans (which the technical department had obtained through early public information and partial infiltration) and his extensive infiltration experience to select some service passages and ventilation ducts.
The space was cramped and dimly lit, the pipe walls covered in dust and grease. But he didn't care; his movements were light and steady, each step landing on the most stable spot without making a sound.
His target was the underground area. According to the latest intelligence analysis from the coordinator, it was most likely where Tang Zhong was holding important "guests."
The lower you go, the more stagnant the air seems to become.
His pupils suddenly contracted as he cautiously peeked out from a ventilation duct grid to observe the entrance to the passageway leading to the basement below.
The sight before him made his heart sink.
At the entrance to the basement, four fully armed guards stood in a fan-shaped formation, blocking the passage. Their eyes were alert, and their fingers were on the triggers, ready to fire at any moment.
The entrance is fitted with a heavy alloy explosion-proof door, with the faint glow of an electronic combination lock and fingerprint reader gleaming on it.
Every few meters along the walls on both sides of the passage, there is a high-definition rotating camera with red indicator lights flashing in the dark, leaving almost no blind spots.
What alarmed Falcon even more was that he discovered several inconspicuous miniature sensors in the corners of the walls and on the ceiling. Judging from their shape and location, they were likely infrared motion sensors and thermal imaging devices.
The level of security here far exceeded his expectations!
It's practically a military-grade fortress!
Tang Zhong, that old fox, really did treat this place as his private prison.
Falcon quickly retreated into the ventilation duct, its body pressed against the cold metal wall, its heartbeat slightly accelerated, but its eyes remained calm.
Shadows are his allies, silence is his weapon.
Falcon's body pressed tightly against the cold, dusty ventilation duct wall, like a spring compressed to its limit. His breathing was extremely light and slow, almost blending into the faint airflow within the duct.
The view at the entrance to the basement below weighed heavily on his heart like a boulder.
Four guards!
These are not ordinary security guards. Judging from the way they hold their guns, their wary eyes, and their positions that almost form a crossfire, they are definitely professionally trained mercenaries or retired soldiers!
The heavy alloy explosion-proof door, along with the electronic combination lock and fingerprint reader that gleam with a faint light, demonstrates the formidable physical defense.
And then there are those ubiquitous cameras, and those inconspicuous miniature sensors in the corners and on the ceiling... Infrared motion sensing? Thermal imaging? Sound wave detection? Heaven knows how much high-tech stuff that old fox Tang Zhong has piled up here!
“Military-level defense…” Falcon silently assessed in his mind, every detail making him feel troubled. “Tang Zhong is treating this place like a bank vault, or rather… more important than a vault.”
A burglary at the vault means a loss of money. But if the imprisoned "VIP" escapes, Tang Zhong could lose half his life, or even more!
Force your way in?
Falcon quickly dismissed the idea.
Forget about four well-trained gunmen; that door alone, along with the comprehensive surveillance and alarm system, would be enough to instantly expose him, leaving him riddled with bullets. Even if he managed to break through the first line of defense, who knows how many more traps awaited him inside.
retreat?
That's not an option either. President Lin is still inside; the longer it drags on, the greater the uncertainty. Qihang Technology cannot afford to lose Lin Fan!
"We must find another way..."
His eyes were sharp as a knife as he began to re-examine the structure of the ventilation ducts. It was unlikely that the main duct led downwards; it would be too easy to detect and defend. A cunning old fox like Tang Zhong wouldn't make such a basic mistake.
So, are there any branch pipes? Or abandoned or forgotten passages?
His brain was working at high speed, like the most sophisticated computer, combining, correcting, and deducing the incomplete architectural drawings provided by the technical department with the actual situation he was observing.
My fingers glide lightly across the cold metal pipe walls, sensing every subtle vibration and airflow. My ears, like radar, pick up the sounds of my surroundings: the footsteps of guards changing shifts, the distant hum of the elevator, the hiss of the air conditioning system…
Suddenly, his finger stopped in an inconspicuous corner.
It was a connection point for a ventilation duct, seemingly older than the surrounding structure, with visible signs of rust at the joint. More importantly, judging from the subtle changes in airflow, it appeared to connect to a smaller, almost abandoned branch duct.
"here……"
Falcon's heart raced slightly, but his movements remained steady. He cautiously approached the interface, carefully inspecting it with a miniature detector to confirm that no alarm devices were connected.
The interface was secured with screws. He took out a small multi-tool from his tactical vest, selected a suitable bit, and began silently tightening the screws.
The rusted screws emitted an extremely faint "creak," which sounded particularly jarring in the silent environment. The falcon immediately stopped and listened intently to the sounds below.
The guards seemed oblivious, remaining vigilant.
He breathed a sigh of relief and continued to tighten the screws at a slower, more steady pace. One, two, three... When the last screw was removed, he gently supported the cover plate with his hand and slowly moved it away, avoiding any clanging noise.
A thicker, musty-smelling stream of air poured out from the gap.
Inside was a narrower, darker pipe, barely large enough for a person to crawl through. The walls were covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, clearly indicating that no one had entered it for a long time.
"Let's take a gamble!"
Without the slightest hesitation, the falcon, like a nimble cat, silently slipped into the abandoned pipe.
The space was extremely cramped, and he could only rely on the strength of his elbows and knees to incline forward little by little. Thick dust covered his combat uniform and seeped into his mouth and nose, but he held his breath and dared not even cough.
Inside the pipes, there was no lighting, only pitch-black darkness. The falcon could only rely on its sense of touch and its sense of direction to move forward. The cold metal, the rough rust, the occasional encounter with an unknown pipe... every meter forward was extremely difficult.
He felt as if he were crawling inside the intestines of a steel behemoth, feeling oppressed and suffocated, while constantly on guard against unknown dangers.
He didn't know how long he had been climbing—perhaps ten minutes, perhaps twenty—but his senses had become exceptionally sharp in the darkness. Suddenly, he sensed a change in the airflow ahead; it was no longer the completely enclosed, lifeless atmosphere.
At the same time, he also vaguely heard some extremely faint sounds.
A regular, low-frequency humming sound, like the operation of a machine, and... faint... footsteps?
"We're almost there!"
The falcon perked up, slowed down, and moved even more gently.
He crawled forward a few more meters, and a blurry outline appeared ahead, seemingly a vertical bend. He cautiously poked his head out and looked down.
A faint light came from below.
This appears to be a maintenance access point for large equipment, connecting to some area of the basement. About three meters below, there is a narrow platform, similarly covered in dust.
He observed carefully for a moment and confirmed that there were no direct monitoring probes or sensors below.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his posture, grabbed the edge of the pipe with both hands, braced his feet against the inner wall, controlled his body, and slid down slowly like a gecko. Finally, his feet landed lightly on the platform without making a sound.
The platform beneath your feet connects to a rusty metal staircase leading deeper into the building.
The falcon didn't immediately go down, but instead stayed close to the wall, carefully observing the situation below.
This was a larger underground space than he had anticipated, but it was dimly lit, revealing only massive pipes, wiring, and blurry outlines of walls. The air was thick with the pungent smell of engine oil, dust, and disinfectant, even stronger than upstairs.
There seemed to be lights in the corridor in the distance, and shadowy figures could be vaguely seen moving about.
"The defenses here... don't seem as formidable as at the entrance," Falcon quickly assessed. Perhaps Tang Zhong believed that as long as the main entrance was secured, the defenses inside could be slightly more relaxed? Or perhaps this was merely the outer perimeter of the basement?
He needed to get closer to the core area to find where Lin Fan was being held.
He moved down the metal staircase like a ghost. His footsteps fell silently on the dusty steps.
At the bottom, there was a narrow corridor with several closed metal doors on either side, resembling an equipment room or storage room. The corridor walls were rough concrete, and overhead were a crisscrossing network of pipes and cables.
The number of surveillance cameras here has decreased significantly, but they are still present, and their locations are now more concealed.
Falcon moved swiftly and cautiously, blending into the shadows and using pipes and corners for cover. His goal was to find an area that looked like a prison cell or a special detention facility.
Logically speaking, such places are usually located in relatively independent, easily monitored, and defended locations.
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