Gait retrieval, comparing with the surveillance footage once left behind by the fake Mo Zhicheng, matching the gait.
And all the identities that might have been used by the fake Mo Zhicheng before, the faces he wore, the faces of related persons, are all within the search and tracking range.
A logistics staffer, watching the surveillance footage at the parking lot entrance, looking at the people in the car, a box appeared on that person’s face, and a simple identity profile popped up next to it.
The logistics staff checked, made sure the info was fine, and although this person was wearing glasses—a bit like the exotic artifact the target character used to wear—
But it was only a bit similar; the guy was wearing half-rimmed glasses.
To be cautious, the logistics staff looked further: this man was a local from Duanzhou, here to meet a client at the hotel today. According to transaction records, he got these glasses from a local shop half a year ago.
They checked the same model of frame, and it was indeed exactly what he’s wearing now.
An ordinary office worker who’s never had anything to do with the Scorching Sun Department, or with professionals or different races.
At this step, the logistics staff saw another prompt on the surveillance: a vague match, possible target, requires manual deep confirmation.
He kept chasing the next lead.
The fake Mo Zhicheng drove all the way north out of Duanzhou, leaving the city behind, and up ahead to the north stretched countless miles of mountains.
The chemical plant was situated right by this expanse of mountains.
Back then the Scorching Sun Department could easily evacuate everyone, blocking off the whole hundred-mile radius, simply because barely anyone lived there year-round.
He followed the highway right along the blockade’s edge, finally coming to a stop on a hillside.
He gazed into the distance at the chemical plant, which was brightly lit, bustling with activity; anyone who didn’t know better would think it had started running again.
The fake Mo Zhicheng pulled out binoculars, examined the place carefully, then smiled.
He could, in fact, have gone straight from the tiny domain in the hotel’s basement, traveling through the dark deep sea directly into the chemical plant’s domain.
But if he did that, he’d have no idea what the situation was there.
Besides, he needed to handle things outside first, to keep anyone from dragging him down or interfering.
He walked down the hillside, all alone, step by step toward the chemical plant.
"When I don’t touch anyone, they will ignore my presence—turns out, that’s real."
The fake Mo Zhicheng spoke and willed it to be so, erasing all sense of his existence.
Gathered there were all elite Scorching Sun Department members; even if most were just ordinary people, every one of them was top-notch at something.
The armed warriors had all been through strict training, their wills ironclad.
If he did anything that might instinctively make someone alert, or sense danger, who knows—someone might react in an instant.
Better to directly influence himself.
Like a man out on a walk, he reached the edge of the camp; the moment a vehicle pulled in and the barricade opened, he slipped in, too.
He didn’t go invisible—not that it would help. The last guy who tried to infiltrate the Scorching Sun Department using invisibility ended up dead in a very ugly way.
Now, swaggering in, clearly visible, people looked right at him, yet their minds still skipped over his existence.
On the surveillance feed, his silhouette appeared; AI flagged a prompt: unauthorized intruder detected.
But the Scorching Sun Department member sitting before the monitors simply ignored the prompt and the slightly irritating alert sound.
The fake Mo Zhicheng walked along, taking in all the arrangements the Scorching Sun Department had set up by the pool and sighing inwardly.
Really went all out, huh.
Enough electricity to power a chemical plant, all for a machine he couldn’t even identify.
If a living person took a hit from that, they might not even have time to feel pain.
He gazed from afar at Cai Qidong, who was personally at the helm. He didn’t dare get any closer.
To be assigned a crisis command and air-dropped in as Scorching Sun Department Minister for Nanwu County—you had to be exceptional.
He figured if he got any closer, Cai Qidong would probably notice.
Others might not, but he had it confirmed through his own intel channels: Cai Qidong was a Martial Path master, with preternatural senses.
For people of that caliber, sometimes they don’t even need to think—instinct will strike first.
With his wimpy frame, if ambushed, he might not even get a chance to use his own abilities.
He took a distant glance at Cai Qidong, then approached the pool, looking back at the camp.
"You all working without rest really have it rough. It’s late. If you’re tired, take a break and get some sleep.
If you’re not tired, then stand guard—don’t let anybody in, except for those already here, into the chemical plant’s domain."
His voice drifted off with the wind, riding the orders these people already received and their possible inner thoughts, nudging them a bit further.
Making sure there was no issue, he turned and leapt into one of the pools, vanishing.
The fake Mo Zhicheng disappeared into the pool, and in the camp, those pulling all-nighters fueled by strong tea or coffee finally couldn’t hold out. They wandered into the big tent, collapsed onto crude cots, and promptly passed out cold.
Those who weren’t as tired, or had stronger wills, simply fixed their gaze, gripping their weapons tightly.
Even Cai Qidong himself wasn’t immune. His sense of crisis and urgency flared, and he resolved that today, whoever dared to come, he would stop them here.
He instinctively felt something was off, though he couldn’t say what; what was wrong with just guarding the place?
Ten minutes later, a pickup truck pulled up to the camp gate. The Scorching Sun Department field agents guarding the entrance didn’t check IDs, didn’t confirm personnel, and didn’t open the barricade.
They simply raised their weapons in unison, pointing them at the newcomer outside.
Feng Yao, sitting in the vehicle, was just about to get out to show his face.
But seeing the look in those gate guards’ eyes—someone was already pulling the bolt—his expression changed, and he immediately reversed the truck to back away.
He retreated some distance, peering at the camp; there were far fewer people than before, and those who remained were all tense and wound up.
If a bird so much as flew into the camp zone now, someone would open fire on it instantly.
Feng Yao took out his phone and dialed Cai Qidong.