The only sound in the back room of the Cloud Tea House was the low, rhythmic tick-tick-tick of the brass pendulum Mr. Hu had set on the low table. It was a precise, quiet sound, yet in the pervasive acoustic dampening, it felt impossibly loud—a relentless, indifferent clock counting down Lei's remaining hours.
Lei's heart hammered a counter-rhythm against the silence. He watched the watchmaker, whose precise movements belied a deep, controlled terror. Mr. Hu had inserted Mei's chip into a small, antique-looking device—a brass housing with a few blinking LEDs—that was clearly far more sophisticated than any pocket watch repair tool.
"It's not an invasion, Lei," Mr. Hu finally said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. He spoke slowly, articulating each word perfectly so Lei wouldn't miss a beat. "They aren't from space. The Ghosts—the Jìngwù—are products of the Watcher Program. They are human-engineered bio-acoustic weapons."
The statement hit Lei with the force of a physical blow, stripping away the last vestige of alien terror and replacing it with pure, cold rage. The things that had destroyed his life, that had taken Mei, were not natural. They were deliberate.
"They were created, not to defend us, but to control us," Hu continued, gently touching the glowing silver chip. "The government realized that total, silent surveillance was impossible without total social compliance. So they manufactured a threat that enforces silence and curfews better than any military occupation. This entire dual existence—the Quiet Hours, the shelter regulations—it's all a massive, city-wide field test."
Lei stared at the chip. "Mei… she knew."
"She didn't just know; she found the core truth," Hu affirmed. "The Ghosts aren't randomly hunting noise. They are slaves to a central signal. Every Ghost, every movement, every kill—it's choreographed by a broadcast frequency that directs their core neurological function. The government calls it 'The Noise of God' because it's the only sound they obey."
Hu pushed the antique device toward Lei, revealing its screen. It displayed a complex, geometric waveform.
"And this," Hu tapped the screen, "is what Mei called the Master Frequency. It is the command code. It's the specific sonic signature that tells the Ghosts where and when to hunt, and where the acoustic dead zones are."
Lei's eyes burned with unshed tears. This wasn't just research; it was a testament to Mei's terrifying dedication. She hadn't been fighting for answers; she had been fighting for control.
"But what did she want me to do with it?" Lei rasped. "Why the 'Key of Leda'?"
Mr. Hu took a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of fresh tea finally reaching Lei. "Mei was a logistics genius, not a programmer. She couldn't delete the Master Frequency, but she could find its encryption back-door—the security signature, the 'Key of Leda,' that locks the frequency when it's not in use. She planned to use that Key to introduce a modified echo into the original code."
"A modified echo?"
"Yes. A signal designed not to command them, but to overload their acoustic sensory centers—to deafen them permanently, turning the Jìngwù into blind, inert shells," Hu explained. "But to broadcast a signal powerful enough to override the government's original command and reach every Ghost simultaneously, you need a high-altitude transmission point."
Hu placed a worn, folded map of Guangzhou on the table, centering it on a towering landmark.
"Your mission, Lei, is to take this chip to the Pearl Tower satellite relay in the new financial district. It's the highest civilian antenna in the city, capable of broadcasting the signal across the entire control zone. You need to transmit the modified Master Frequency before the Quiet Hours end."
Lei looked at the map. The Pearl Tower was five kilometers away, across the busiest acoustic zones and guarded by multiple checkpoints, all of them likely crawling with the black-clad agents. It was a suicide run.
"And Mei?" Lei asked, his voice cracking. "Does this tell us where they took her?"
Hu shook his head, his gaze softening with genuine pity. "The chip has nothing about her location, Lei. She was too smart to risk that. She only left instructions for the city's survival. But if you succeed, if you disable their weapon, the chaos will force the government to move, to expose their operations. That is the only way you will ever find out what truly happened to LZ09."
Lei picked up the chip. It felt impossibly light, yet held the weight of millions of lives and the memory of the woman he loved. He looked from the map to the silent, determined face of Mr. Hu.
"Give me what I need, Mr. Hu. Tell me how to use this Key of Leda."
Mr. Hu smiled, a grim, hopeful twist of his lips. He walked over to a sealed wall panel and pressed a hidden sequence. The panel slid open, revealing a cache of gear: a new, fully charged Mute-Box prototype, a tactical harness with extra acoustic padding, and a surprisingly compact, military-grade sonic pulse dampener—a weapon.
"We don't have much time, Lei," Mr. Hu said, strapping the new harness across Lei's chest. "The Night Watchers are already mobilizing. The city is depending on your silence."