Chapter 10: Infiltration

April 29, 2101. Kaifeng, the Dragon Commandery.

Known in ancient times as Bianliang, the city lay in central China, with the Yellow River to its north. It had served as the capital of seven dynasties.

But to the Empire, things like culture, history, and faith weren't worth a damn. In its eyes, this was just another piece of territory. Grant a few nobles hereditary estates here, appoint a governor to run the place, exploit whatever resources needed exploiting, put down whatever resistance needed putting down, and it was no different from any other city on the planet.

That day, two men walked side by side along a busy street in the city's most prosperous central district. One was a fair-faced young Asian man, the other a well-dressed European.

The European had ordinary looks and an easygoing expression. His short brown hair curled slightly, but he'd groomed it carefully, apparently using quite a bit of hair wax. His suit was crisply pressed. His pen, watch, sunglasses, tie, and leather shoes were all designer brands, without exception. The only thing that didn't fit the look was the enormous suitcase he carried.

Gu Wen, walking beside him, was dressed casually in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't want to attract pickpockets and invite unnecessary trouble.

“I still don't think this is a good idea,” Accountant told Gu Wen.

“We're already here. It's a little late to back out now,” Gu Wen replied as they walked.

“How about you go in alone?” Accountant asked.

“Impossible. This isn't a one-man job,” Gu Wen replied. He wasn't nervous in the slightest.

Accountant sighed. “Ah... Something this dangerous, and the boss sends us desk workers to do it.”

“Can't be helped. We're short-handed at the moment. Everyone's working on something nobody else can do, and they're all pressed for time,” Gu Wen said.

Accountant turned to look at him. “Short-handed... Buddy, when we left the bookshop, the boss himself was sitting behind his desk drinking coffee.”

“You said it yourself. He's the boss, which makes him management. A manager's typical working day consists of sitting in his office making tea, reading the paper, browsing the internet, having a smoke, eating lunch, taking a nap, then mysteriously disappearing after he wakes up,” Gu Wen said. “Meanwhile, those of us who actually get things done have to risk our lives in Steel Commandment's lair and might never come back. So... that's how the world works. Everything's perfectly normal.”

Accountant gave a couple of dry chuckles. His Chinese was only so-so, and he didn't quite follow the sarcasm. Looking ahead, he changed the subject. “Is that the building?”

“Yes. A forty-three-story civilian office building. More than half the floors house shell companies. The people going in and out of those floors every day pretending to work are all Steel Commandment members. The remaining dozen or so floors are rented out to keep up appearances. On the surface, it's no different from any office building you'd see in a big city, but its internal security is at least as good as a local government office's,” Gu Wen said.

“Hmm... There's a problem,” Accountant said, looking at the building.

“What?”

“I counted. That building has forty-four floors.”

Gu Wen glanced at him, held out his hand, and turned it over a few times in front of Accountant's face. “How many lines are there on my hand?”

“Excluding the palm lines and counting only the other creases, there are seventeen deep, clearly visible ones and twenty-nine shallow, short, fine, closely spaced ones,” Accountant answered a second later.

“I was a little skeptical at first. You really do live up to your reputation.” Gu Wen suddenly asked another question. “How many hairs do I have?”

“I can't see them clearly.”

“How many stars are there in the sky?”

“That depends on where I am, the positions of the Earth and the sun, atmospheric conditions, and so on. Every factor affects the number of stars visible to the naked eye at night.”

“Can you count grains of sand?”

“Same principle. I can't count things if I can't readily distinguish them individually with the naked eye. I also can't count things arranged in layers rather than on a single visual plane. One grain of sand buried under another, liquids, and your hair all fall into that category.”

“Oh...” Gu Wen abruptly changed tack again. “What's 32468549847 in binary?”

“11110001111010001101100000011010111,” Accountant recited, almost without thinking.

“Actually, even if you'd just made up a string of numbers, it'd still take me a while to check it,” Gu Wen said.

Accountant let out a breath. “It's very simple for me, but I think we'd better stop here. That talent caused me a lot of suffering as a child.”

“The government locked you in a room and tested you with questions like these day and night?” Gu Wen asked.

“Hmph... Better not to talk about it. You know us Jews. We can get through anything,” Accountant replied.

By now they had reached the entrance and walked straight inside without breaking stride. Their expressions were as casual as if they were entering a convenience store. They looked entirely at home, no different from people who came to work here every day.

Almost nobody knew what Gu Wen looked like, and Accountant had always kept a low profile. With their acting skills and intelligence, slipping into an ordinary office building should have been easy. But this was no ordinary office building. It was a secret Steel Commandment facility that even Kaifeng's HL hadn't uncovered. Its security might not have been flawless, but its precautions and secrecy were at least reasonably impressive.

As soon as Gu Wen and Accountant entered the lobby, surveillance cameras captured and analyzed their facial features. An alert immediately lit up on a computer screen in the surveillance room. This was no high-level alarm, of course, just a routine notification that neither face appeared in the database's visitor records. From the way they were dressed, the guard could tell they weren't delivering parcels or takeout, so he picked up his radio and asked a colleague in the lobby to go over and inquire.

“Gentlemen. Yes, you two. Please wait a moment.” A security guard politely called them to a halt and walked over.

Gu Wen and Accountant's acting was masterful. Their bewilderment, tinged with just a hint of unease, was perfectly judged.

Gu Wen seized the opportunity. “Hey, my friend, just the man I need. I was about to find someone to ask. What floor is that advertising company, Dazzle You, on?”

The guard looked them up and down. “May I ask what brings you gentlemen here?”

“Oh, this is Mr. Dehehuamengshiruita, one of their clients. I'm his interpreter. We've come to discuss a business partnership,” Gu Wen said.

The guard looked a little dazed. “Wait... What did you say his name was?”

“Dehehuamengshiruita,” Gu Wen repeated, adding, “Ah... Some lousy Eastern European hick name. It's Hebrew.”

“Oh...” said the guard. Then he asked, “And what's in this case?” His gaze settled on Accountant's suitcase, and he reached toward it.

Accountant immediately launched into a long stream of bullshit at the guard, “&%&）（&@……￥……&%#.” It was gibberish even he couldn't understand. The arm holding the case also swung “instinctively” behind his back.

A string of bizarre sounds that clearly belonged to the same language family as Accountant's promptly sprang from Gu Wen's mouth. Then he turned back to the guard. “Hmm... He says the samples mustn't be handled carelessly. Also, he's in a hurry.”

The guard looked suspicious. “What kind of samples?”

Gu Wen's talent for making things up was formidable. Almost without hesitation, he said, “Blow-up dolls.”

At this, even Accountant's facial muscles twitched slightly.

The guard's expression stiffened. “Well...” In fact, he'd already abandoned any intention of opening the case. After hesitating for a few seconds, he pointed. “That elevator. The company's on the fourteenth floor.”

And so the two successfully bluffed their way inside.

They had barely entered the elevator when the guard radioed his colleague in the surveillance room. “Looks like they're clients of an advertising company. Keep an eye on them and see whether they go to the fourteenth floor.” By the time he lowered his radio, he'd reached the lobby's front desk. He said to the receptionist, “Put me through to the advertising company's reception on the fourteenth floor.”

The call connected quickly. “Hello, this is Captain Wang from the lobby. Sorry to bother you, but are you expecting a foreign client for a meeting today?”