FMLB Chapter 119

Difficulty Distinguishing Good from Evil

 

The Eternal Tower had a cloud ladder that could be descended or left using flying tools. Xi Guican directly spread his wings, embraced He Ruge, and flew towards the grey pigeon.

 

The huge feather wings were soft and snow-white like clouds. Xi Guican’s wings silently flapped as he glided through the sea of clouds, resembling a whale swimming peacefully in the deep sea. 

 

He Ruge reached out to touch the flowing clouds in the sky, unsure if he felt the touch of wind or clouds passing through his fingertips.

 

Xi Guican followed the grey pigeon from afar. For a great demon like him, concealing his presence to track a target was effortless.

 

The grey pigeon was completely unaware of the looming figure behind it. It joyfully flapped its wings, flying from the edge of the Eternal Tower to a plaza in the city center. 

 

Night had fallen, the city lights were ablaze, and the plaza bustled with activity. What surprised He Ruge the most was hearing his own song in the plaza.

 

The most eye-catching presence in the plaza wasn’t He Ruge or Xi Guican; both had disguised themselves to avoid trouble. The source of the singing was a square dance troupe with their own sound system, mostly composed of men of all ages—youths, middle-aged, and even seniors.

 

The grey pigeon they had been trailing now transformed into a handsome young man. He joined the dance troupe with a beaming smile, thoroughly enjoying himself.

 

The background music was the war song He Ruge sang in his star network broadcast, its stirring rhythm giving the troupe an energetic vibe.

 

“There are so many pigeons here.” 

 

Xi Guican sniffed the thick scent of pigeons in the air and concluded, “This must be the Grey Pigeon Squad.”

 

As soon as he said this, a game prompt sounded:

 

【Beep—Successfully completed mission ‘Search for the Grey Pigeon Squad’】

 

【Reward received: Unveiling Masking ＊1】

 

In He Ruge and Xi Guican’s eyes, a middle-aged man with a bald head and beer belly in the troupe transformed into the face of Shang Zhaoqi. Truly worthy of being the head of the military intelligence department, he and Xi Guican, the two great demons, hid among the dancers without revealing any hints. 

 

If not for the game’s cheat mode, Shang Zhaoqi could have finished dancing and left confidently.

 

However, now that their tracks were exposed, it wouldn’t be so easy to leave.

 

After watching Shang Zhaoqi’s dance, He Ruge hadn’t had the chance to approach and expose him before Shang Zhaoqi, with his “general’s belly,” strode towards them.

 

Contrary to the scholarly demeanor He Ruge saw during the day, influenced by his current disguise, Shang Zhaoqi’s tone carried a hint of familiarity.

 

Just thinking about Shang Zhaoqi’s animal form being a pigeon made He Ruge feel somewhat fond of him. 

 

“We didn’t expect Mr. Shang to also dance in the square.”

 

Shang Zhaoqi chuckled, “Dancing with friends is enjoyable. Sometimes we also picnic in the park when we have time, organizing outings together.”

 

While this sounded like leisurely outings with friends, it was far from it. The Grey Pigeon Squad was Shang Zhaoqi’s intelligence organization, and mobilizing the entire group meant something big was afoot.

 

“Now that we’ve met, why don’t we take a stroll together?” 

 

He Ruge completely forgot about their “amusement park plan” and focused solely on the mission, wanting to find clues from Shang Zhaoqi.

 

So, Xi Guican’s eagerly awaited night at the amusement park turned into an outing with the Grey Pigeon Squad. He blended in among the pigeons, strolling through the plaza with a blank expression. Every few steps, a pigeon would leave the group.

 

“I heard Mr. He has been nominated for the Anlarhos Medical Award. Congratulations in advance.” 

 

The list of nominees for the Anlarhos Medical Award hadn’t been announced yet, and many nominees were unaware of their nomination. As colleagues of the Institute, both Mao Zixiee and Mao Zhengyong had some insider information. As an excellent head of intelligence, Shang Zhaoqi naturally knew these things.

 

He Ruge repeated his modest words from when he was comforting Mao Zhengqi that afternoon.

 

But unlike Mao Zhengqi, Shang Zhaoqi appreciated He Ruge, evident from the fact that he played He Ruge’s song during his dance.

 

“We enjoy dancing to your songs with friends. Every time we dance to your songs, we feel like we’re ten years younger. Old Mao’s research direction is different from yours. I wonder if Mr. He has seen Old Mao’s research results?” The night air chilled as they walked to the flowerbed.

 

He Ruge shook his head. He didn’t even know Mao Zihe had enrolled him, let alone what Mao Zihe was researching. He hadn’t paid attention to his competitors’ research directions.

 

“Mr. He’s singing brings joy and hope to people,” Shang Zhaoqi’s expression was indistinct in the darkness. 

 

“Old Mao’s research reveals despair and malice. There used to be lie detectors that could determine if someone was lying. Nowadays, there’s a device that can detect whether a person is good or evil at a particular moment.” Shang Zhaoqi casually dropped this bombshell.

 

“Good and evil device?” He Ruge was stunned. 

 

Had technology really advanced to this level? It would make it so easy to determine if people were going to heaven or hell after they died—just take a test.

 

“It can only determine whether a person is good or evil at a certain moment. Mr. He, people are complex. Even if there were machines that could read memories one day, they couldn’t define a person’s good or evil. Perhaps only God can make that judgment.” 

 

When Shang Zhaoqi said this, he looked at Xi Guican behind He Ruge, the man whose presence was still remarkable even with a mask.

 

“A vicious criminal who kills and loots is certainly evil. But if he sees an ant on the road, lifts his bloodstained foot, and avoids stepping on it, then at that moment, he is good.”

 

Shang Zhaoqi reached into his “big belly” and, like Doraemon reaching into his pocket, pulled out a small sphere from his fake belly.

 

“The good and evil device captures negative emotions emanating from the spiritual sea at specific moments—greed, desire to kill, lust, envy…”

 

The pitch-black sphere looked like a small marble. Shang Zhaoqi aimed the sphere at He Ruge. 

 

“Everyone’s spiritual sea is different. It’s said that newborn babies and amnesiacs have a pure white, clean spiritual sea, like a blank sheet of paper. If you were to test them with the good and evil device, their score would be zero.”

 

The small sphere in front of He Ruge flashed, displaying the detected value:

 

0

 

His eyes widened for a moment. Shang Zhaoqi stared fixedly at the good and evil device in his palm. Cracks appeared on his perfectly managed face, and the slick and oily demeanor of the disguised businessman vanished. 

 

He murmured incredulously, “How is this possible?”

 

Seeing this value, He Ruge was equally puzzled. 

 

“Could the device be broken?” 

 

He wasn’t a saint; how could he have no negative emotions? 

 

Even when he was locked in a cage by Taotie, He Ruge had felt the urge to kill.

 

It seemed there was more than one good and evil device. A member of the Grey Pigeon Squad nearby was about to hand over his good and evil device to Shang Zhaoqi. However, as the pigeon reached into his chest to retrieve the device, he met a pair of sharp, blade-like blue eyes in the darkness.

 

The silent man was like a resting beast; once someone dared to invade his territory, this beast would bite their throat.

 

Moving again could result in death… The quivering pigeon felt like a quail, trembling in fear.

 

Shang Zhaoqi’s loss of composure was brief. He took a deep breath and said, “Perhaps the device is broken. This is not a good start, and Mr. He may not believe what I’m about to say next.”

 

“Just say it.” 

 

Xi Guican, who had endured Shang Zhaoqi’s chatter for so long, was running out of patience. 

 

“Keep it short.”

 

Would the leader of the Grey Pigeon Squad, Shang Zhaoqi, who could mobilize a large group, be afraid of anything?

 

Yes.

 

Shang Zhaoqi spoke quickly, “To test the good and evil device, we installed a hundred of them in crowded plazas. If the negative emotional value detected at any location exceeds the alert line, members of the Grey Pigeon Squad will investigate.”

 

As He Ruge recalled their stroll just now, the scattered members of the Pigeon Squad who had left the group one by one, were they really going to check the situation? 

 

It had been over ten minutes since those pigeons left, so if something had really happened, they should have sent word back by now.

 

Just as He Ruge was thinking this, Shang Zhaoqi lowered his head and opened his Light Brain. “Very good, we’ve harvested quite a lot this time.”

 

In just twenty short minutes, seventeen of the Good-Evil Meters installed on the square detected excessive malice.

 

When the members of the Pigeon Squad rushed over, they nabbed a drug dealer with concealed toxins, a human trafficker selling infants, and even a thief.

 

The captured individuals vehemently denied everything, looking innocent and clueless, their acting skills sufficient to enter the entertainment industry. However, the Good-Evil Meters detected their excessively malicious intentions, so the Pigeon Squad used certain methods to expose their true identities.

 

This glorious achievement left He Ruge deeply shocked. If these Good-Evil Meters were used in the right places, they would definitely play a tremendous role. The fact that Mao Zhengqi, the developer of the Good-Evil Meters, truly lived up to Mao Zhengyong’s praise as “the pride of heaven.”

 

At the same time, however, he feared the widespread use of the Good-Evil Meters. Mao Zhengqi, Xiang Zhongzheng, and Shang Zhaoqi were in a cooperative relationship but also on the kill list. 

 

They were all hosts of Taotie. The function of detecting negative emotions in these things was intertwined with the Taotie’s consumption of negative emotions.

 

Small theater:

 

Xí Guican: My little koi and I fell into a pigeon heap

 

He Ruge: Actually, I have another identity—a pigeon handler