Bursting Tomato 3

Who would have thought she was in so deep—connected to the Mechanical Pure Land, a fanatic bent on uploading her consciousness.

And from the sound of it, Dr. Morian's ambush had been entirely her doing. If that were the case, how could she have died in the airship explosion?

She must have been prepared, with everything arranged.

When Yan Xianchuan had taken over this body, the worst injury she'd suffered was a gash on her side, and there was no parachute on her. Could she really have been that unlucky—a piece of debris from the explosion just happened to slice her abdomen? Yan Xianchuan couldn't think of any other plausible explanation.

Her death had been a pure accident.

After all, her fellow Mechanical Pure Land member had no apparent reason to deliberately harm her.

"I just found out something thrilling," Yan Xianchuan whispered, leaning in slightly.

Her gaze inevitably lingered on the other woman's pale neck and small, rounded earlobe. An earring with an openwork pattern dangled there, doing its job faithfully—providing Lu Mingqiu with a false face.

"What is it?" Lu Mingqiu turned her head to look.

"It seems I'm a member of the Mechanical Pure Land," Yan Xianchuan said, her eyes fixed on the other's face, searching for any flicker of emotion.

Surprise or wariness? Fear or understanding?

After their nightly grappling matches, it was as if they had swapped personalities. Yan Xianchuan had become more expressive—though only with Lu Mingqiu—while the latter seemed to have put on a mask, responding to everything with a calm face, whether Yan Xianchuan deliberately provoked her or teased her.

This made Yan Xianchuan feel it was rather dull.

Nothing. Lu Mingqiu's expression remained placid. She looked at Yan Xianchuan for a while, then said in an unruffled tone, "Tell me in detail."

And it also made Yan Xianchuan feel it was more challenging.

She forwarded the text message to Lu Mingqiu. "What should we do about this?"

Lu Mingqiu read it and remained composed, speaking steadily, "Reply to him first. Say you're staying with me now, and the previous address is too far for convenient pickup. Ask him to send it to Golden Apple Street 103. We'll discuss the rest when we get back."

"But we just got here," Yan Xianchuan said reluctantly. In truth, she wasn't that fond of the church anyway.

The only reason she said this was to make Lu Mingqiu offer some concessions and compensation.

—I can go, but you need to do something.

Lu Mingqiu: "I'll treat you to dessert."

Yan Xianchuan: "From Duitang's."

Lu Mingqiu, without changing expression: "No problem."

"Wife, you're so good to me. No one's ever bought me dessert before," Yan Xianchuan said, feigning deep emotion, her tone syrupy as if she'd downed two catties of honey.

Fortunately, she wasn't fond of physical contact; otherwise, if she leaned in to nuzzle Lu Mingqiu with every sentence, the latter might not have maintained her usual composure.

This was her counterattack.

What do you do when you meet a pervert on the road? The best way is to avoid them, stay far away. But when this pervert has already set their sights on you, you must not run.

Arousing a pervert's interest is terrifying; making them lose interest is even more so.

Yan Xianchuan wasn't the kind of low-grade sadist or exhibitionist—she was a killer.

The chip was indeed a safety measure, but what if she was unconscious? Who could stop Yan Xianchuan then?

Never underestimate the execution ability of a psychopath. She could always come up with countless ways, even going in a big circle, to achieve her goal.

To keep things from escalating, Lu Mingqiu had to prolong the other's interest, make her feel it was fun and engaging, make her feel challenged and motivated.

Only then would she stay calm.

It was like eating ice cream—the difference between biting it all at once and licking it slowly. The ice cream would eventually be finished, and if you licked too slowly, it would melt into a mess.

Yan Xianchuan was walking back happily, not sparing a single glance for the painted church. She pulled out half a loaf of bread from somewhere, broke it into pieces, and tossed it forcefully toward the flock of pigeons.

"Eat! Eat! Oh, white doves, symbols of purity! If I cannot win the love of that gentle lady, I shall lose all appetite, and I shall die! Pigeons, I am burning in the flames of love!"

She recited in a measured, passionate tone, as if she weren't in a bustling square but on a grand stage, not a passerby in a short-sleeved shirt but a protagonist in fine attire, surrounded by admirers.

This was one of the consequences of pleasing a madwoman.

Yan Xianchuan's ability to ignore the stares and pointing of others had reached a level of mastery, as if she were blind to the scrutinizing gazes. It even evoked a hint of admiration from Lu Mingqiu.

This was an extremely self-centered person, and therefore she was destined to experience more joy than others.

Lu Mingqiu silently took a step aside, maintaining distance, and walked forward without looking around. She hadn't yet evolved to that stage. For ideals and beliefs, she could make any sacrifice, but for this? No, thank you.

Besides, what was she reciting? These words were too pointed.

Lu Mingqiu would rather believe a con artist had reformed than trust the jumbled love talk spilling from her lips.

Yan Xianchuan claimed she didn't like lying, and that was true.

Honesty—at times, she was more honest than someone who'd taken truth serum, but only when she felt saying the truth was more dramatic than lying.

After finishing her lines, she turned her head and saw that the other had already walked some distance away. "Wife!" she called out loudly. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Now, not just the people nearby, but those farther away instinctively looked toward the source of the sound—because next to the church, the square had an unwritten rule against loud noise.

Lu Mingqiu dearly wanted to stride away quickly, but reason prevailed. If she did, the other would surely cause more trouble. Anyway, it wasn't her face being used.

She stopped and waited in place for a moment.

Yan Xianchuan trotted over, pretending to be out of breath, and complained between gasps, "Why did you leave without me?"

Lu Mingqiu said calmly, "I just remembered there's a shop ahead that sells maple cakes."

Yan Xianchuan immediately followed up, "So you went to buy me food?"

Lu Mingqiu: "Exactly."

Yan Xianchuan then looked moved, letting out a string of unintelligible interjections, finally saying, "I thought you felt embarrassed and abandoned me to leave on your own."

Lu Mingqiu kept her eyes forward. "I've been professionally trained; I never feel shame, no matter the situation."

Yan Xianchuan, half envious, half wistful, said, "Ah, if only I had your skill."

Lu Mingqiu fell into a suspicious silence for a moment, then raised a hand to point at a shop with a yellow-and-pink sign ahead. "It's this one."

On the way back, Yan Xianchuan held fragrant maple cakes and a large box of pastries in her hands, eating continuously, unusually quiet—not a single word.

In her mind, Lu Mingqiu bumped up the importance of desserts, adding a bold note in mental capitals—an extremely effective calming agent.

Of course, it only worked in less severe situations.

When they got home, Yan Xianchuan had just finished eating all the snacks, and she followed Lu Mingqiu into the study with a very cheerful mood.

"Now, let's talk about the Mechanical Pure Land," Lu Mingqiu said.

"I only just learned I have connections with them," Yan Xianchuan said. "I've shown you all the chat logs with Rattlesnake. That's all there was. Previous content was probably deleted."

"Hei Ge can recover the records; he'll need your account and password." Lu Mingqiu tapped the projection, and blue data streams slid by like meteors, assembling into a building shaped like an hourglass before her.

The slightly narrower conical ends faced each other, with a platform in the middle. Several long chains secured the upper half like extended claws. Amid countless straight-up-and-down buildings, its unique silhouette naturally proclaimed its unique identity.

—It was the Dongye family's residence.

"What we need to discuss next is our upcoming mission location—the recently much-talked-about Dongye family banquet."

"Dr. Sera is the developer of the Consciousness-Separation Serum. It's expected that the Mechanical Pure Land would be interested in this banquet."

"Consciousness-Separation Serum?" Yan Xianchuan was puzzled.

"You don't know?" Lu Mingqiu was taken aback.

Yan Xianchuan shook her head.

Lu Mingqiu glanced at her and explained, "In today's society, many people replace their body parts with prosthetics. Some are forced by accidents, others voluntarily choose mechanical arms with weapons. Regardless of the reason, anyone who uses prosthetics for a long time will suffer from varying degrees of consciousness disorder."

"They experience hallucinations and can't distinguish between reality and fantasy, because human consciousness can't get along with metal limbs. Without the original hands and feet, even after installing new ones, the brain still believes the body is incomplete. When that conflicts with the information the eyes receive, the mind becomes confused."

"In severe, irreversible cases, they become cyberpsychos, attacking every target they see indiscriminately. To alleviate this symptom, you need the Consciousness-Separation Serum."

"However, consciousness disorder only occurs in those with metal prosthetics. Using organs cultured from one's own cells doesn't cause the disease."

Yan Xianchuan: "It must be expensive."

"Exactly." Lu Mingqiu's eyes were cold, her voice soft. "Moreover, this technology is monopolized. Only the government and the Dongye family control it. Other families have the resources to research it, but they've mutually agreed—share the cake, never touch the plate."

"Only a select few can afford such a high cost. The vast majority can only choose mechanical limbs, making the serum an essential accessory they must purchase."

"Our researchers found that the serum contains a metabolic component that limits its effectiveness to only one month."

Yan Xianchuan clapped twice. "Brilliant. What a bunch of profiteers."

She remembered that the medical team was also part of the Dongye family. That kind of money-grubbing, high-quality service certainly fit the typical image of a conglomerate—money above all.

Lu Mingqiu reached out and tapped the top of the hourglass building. "This is the Dongye family's main building, called Warren Tower, with 128 floors. The upper section houses their family members' bedrooms, though due to the dwindling family numbers in recent years, many floors are vacant. The lower section is various entertainment venues, including an indoor golf course, an indoor skating rink, and so on."

As her finger moved, the projected building revealed its internal structure.

"This banquet will be held on the 26th floor."

"I have a question." Yan Xianchuan raised her hand like a student in class. "Among all the conglomerates, which family is the richest?"

"The richest is the Yan family," Lu Mingqiu added. "The Yan family mainly deals in weapons development and sales."

Yan Xianchuan: The landlord is me.

But the Yan family's wealth had nothing to do with her. She held no real estate or dividends—a complete lone commander.

"The Dongye family didn't invite many notables this time. Although both the Yan and Bolov families are on the list, the invitees aren't us," Lu Mingqiu said.

"So to get in, we'll need another method."

Yan Xianchuan's eyes lit up. Here it comes—superhero-style disguise infiltration!

In the era she'd been alive, superhero movies didn't exist. When she'd seen one recently, Yan Xianchuan was blown away and immediately fell in love.

The hero's responsibility, mission, loneliness, perseverance, and sense of conviction—so dazzling. From the tragedy arose two different kinds of people; the other was the villain, with twisted thoughts, evil goals, and no regard for human life.

In Yan Xianchuan's simple, stark view of good and evil, corporations were the bad guys oppressing the people, and the Resistance, which opposed them, were naturally the good guys.

At the thought of doing good deeds, she felt her blood boil.

The person across from her suddenly stared intently at her, and Lu Mingqiu sensed something was off. But she reviewed her words and found nothing she'd said that could spark such interest.

Deliberately pretending not to notice the burning gaze, Lu Mingqiu continued laying out her plan.

"Ubiquitous waiters make the best disguise. Hei Ge will forge credentials for our people to infiltrate. This is also what you'll reply to the Mechanical Pure Land later."

"Their demand for the serum is enormous. The Mechanical Pure Land has tried several times to kidnap Dr. Sera, all ending in failure. If they intend to enter the banquet this time, it's definitely not just to observe the proceedings."

Lu Mingqiu smiled lightly. "If they attempt anything and chaos erupts, we can take the opportunity to fish in troubled waters."

Fishing in troubled waters equals a killing spree.

"When do we leave?" Yan Xianchuan licked her lips. "I can hardly wait."

Lu Mingqiu pondered the reason for her sudden excitement, then said, "In two days. But this part of the mission will be handled by others. You and I have separate plans."

"What?" Yan Xianchuan felt as if struck by lightning, deflating. Lu Mingqiu continued speaking, but Yan Xianchuan let it go in one ear and out the other, not registering a single word, immersed in the disappointment of a premature celebration.

If she couldn't do good deeds, what was the point of life?

Following Lu Mingqiu's script, Yan Xianchuan replied to Rattlesnake, saying she wasn't qualified to be invited, but happened to know the head of the waiter recruitment team and could get people in.

Rattlesnake replied after a few minutes: 【Well done. All thanks to you. The organization remembers. The package has been sent. New address—don't forget to receive it.】

With that, his avatar turned gray, and he logged off.

He only mentioned sending the package after getting the reply—clearly dangling the reward to keep her working.

Yan Xianchuan wasn't the original body, nor was her mind clouded by desire. She saw through such petty tricks at a glance.

The reasons this person had joined the Mechanical Pure Land weren't hard to guess—dissatisfaction with real life, looking to immerse fully in the network.

If the consciousness upload succeeded, she'd become something like Hei Ge, an AI-like entity, enjoying omnipotence in the virtual world.

The original had no say in the family, so it was easy to see why she became a recruit for the Mechanical Pure Land.

After the chat logs with Rattlesnake were recovered, Yan Xianchuan skimmed through them. They were intelligence tasks—ask her to probe the movements of upper-class figures.

The original might have been useless, but at least her contact list had plenty of people of the same class, and she knew a few similarly failed outcasts. Gathering information wasn't too difficult for her.

Yan Xianchuan herself had no interest in consciousness upload. She didn't even look at the package sent; she handed it straight to Lu Mingqiu for research.

Silver Ring and Gold Ring were responsible for infiltrating the banquet, Hei Ge provided network support, and Yan Xianchuan and the others were on standby.

Standby, when nothing went wrong, meant just waiting around.

To prevent Yan Xianchuan from having a meltdown midway, Lu Mingqiu came up with a plan.

In plain civilian clothes, Yan Xianchuan listlessly followed her to a long street not far from Warren Tower. The latter suddenly stopped, walked over to a car with blue-and-pink spray paint, and unlocked it with a key.

Yan Xianchuan looked up. A giant ice cream cone stood atop the car, flashing with colored lights—yellow, green, pink cycling.

Yan Xianchuan paused. "It's an ice cream truck."

Lu Mingqiu made a gesture of invitation. "Yes. Your ice cream truck."

Huh?

Yan Xianchuan looked at the eight buckets filled with different flavors of ice cream inside, the rows of pre-rolled cones on the counter, and the sweet, frosty air rushed at her face.

Her gaze was firmly fixed on the pink strawberry ice cream. "So, I can eat... sell ice cream here."

"What about you?" She reluctantly tore her eyes away to look at the other.

"Driver's seat," Lu Mingqiu said.

She closed the door, leaving the other alone in the truck.

An ice cream truck... Yan Xianchuan thought for a moment, then took down a cone, scooped a spoonful of strawberry and a spoonful of mango, stacked the two balls on top, and licked it.

The fruity aroma and cream melted perfectly on her tongue—sweet without being cloying—sliding down her throat into her stomach.

A brilliant, almost inhuman light shone in Yan Xianchuan's eyes.

Pleased, she perked up and began playing the role of a vendor, dutifully hawking.

"Want some ice cream? Hey, you!"

A freckled, somewhat melancholic boy looked around, hesitated, and pointed at himself.

"Yeah, you." Yan Xianchuan leaned on the counter and beckoned.

"I don't have money, so I'll pass," he said, walking over with an embarrassed look, speaking softly.

"No charge." Yan Xianchuan put on a serious expression. "I'm doing a good deed. No fee."

"What flavor do you want?"

"Really?" He looked skeptical, but under Yan Xianchuan's gaze, he couldn't help but give in, clearing his throat. "Ch-chocolate, I guess."

"You seem troubled. Why not tell me about it?" Yan Xianchuan bent down to scoop the ice cream, handed over the finished cone, and smiled.

"I'm a stranger, and strangers have one great advantage: we've met by chance and never will again. Whatever you tell me, no one else will ever know."

Her voice slowed, low and soft, like a demon in scripture luring another into sin.

"See, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm giving away ice cream as a good deed. Helping you with your troubles is just a bonus."

Humans are strange creatures—things they can't tell family or friends spill easily to complete strangers.

The boy revealed his problem: he was always bullied by a bigger classmate who stole his allowance every day.

Minors weren't allowed to have auxiliary chips implanted behind their ears; it would affect brain development. So their conflicts were purely physical contests.

"Easy. I can teach you a trick," Yan Xianchuan said. "Get a collapsible baton. Next time he comes, swing it at his knees. Make sure to record everything before you strike—capture how he bullies you. Then it's self-defense."

"Think about it—he keeps extorting you because you never fight back. If you're stronger and hurt him, will he dare keep coming at you?"

The boy left deep in thought, thanking her before he went.

【You're corrupting the kid.】 Lu Mingqiu said.

【I'm not.】 Yan Xianchuan replied.

【I'm clearly giving psychological guidance, and he even thanked me. I think I've got a knack for being a counselor—solving people's problems. How great is that? I love doing good deeds!】

She genuinely believed this, which was what Lu Mingqiu found absurd.

A mentally ill antisocial who boasted about doing good deeds—while actually solving people's problems, albeit through violent and illegal means.

Lu Mingqiu watched as several more people left looking thoughtful and eager, and a pang of regret stirred within her.

But let it be. Three words won't make a terrorist. Although extreme, it couldn't be denied that it was effective.

Besides, in this society, solving problems through violence was the fastest and most efficient way.

The crystal chandelier seemed to have gathered a piece of starry sky and embedded it overhead. The immaculately clean floor reflected the light, mirroring guests' hems and accessories—huge diamonds, flowing jade and agate—making this man-made river of light on the floor even more dazzling than the one in the sky.

Each custom-made garment was unique, with exquisite designs that neither overshadowed nor flaunted, but served to enhance its wearer, adding glory.

Dongye Zhengqi stepped onto the staircase. His son, Dongye He, tapped a glass, the crisp ring drawing everyone's attention.

"Good evening. I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself."

The crowd showed their support with genial laughter.

Dongye Zhengqi was already eighty-two, but with the aid of technology, he appeared like a middle-aged man with wrinkles. His silver hair lent him an air of refinement.

"I'm not one for beating around the bush. Everyone likely has some guesses about tonight's theme." His eyes gleamed with ambition and power. "Dr. Sera is an outstanding biomedical scientist and has been cooperating with the Dongye family for some time. As you all know, the Consciousness-Separation Serum has never been a perfect product—it has flaws."

"Recently, the doctor brought me good news: she has developed a one-shot, permanent cure for the Consciousness-Separation Serum."

"With a single injection, it's like wrapping the brain in a protective film, keeping it far from mental disorders."

Dongye Zhengqi shifted. "However, the required raw materials are rare and precious, so mass production isn't possible yet. Tonight's banquet has two main purposes: first, to announce this good news; second, to select suitable allies to collaborate in the production process."

His gaze swept over several conglomerate members. Some showed thoughtful expressions, others knowing looks.

The smaller family guests visibly perked up.

In their view, this was the Dongye family finding the single-handed development too costly and seeking investors, sharing some profits while filling their coffers.

A godsend!

"Next, Dr. Sera will give a general overview of the effects of the perfect Consciousness-Separation Serum."

Amid the guests' modest applause, Dr. Sera, with a mechanical eye and two mechanical arms, stepped out from the side. She had a round, kindly face, like a neighbor who'd bake soup and cookies, with a household full of cats and dogs, whose favorite pastime was basking on the balcony.

She looked around at the audience and began describing the serum in highly technical jargon that went over everyone's heads.

All they understood was that it required a raw material called RT3, extremely rare.

After her talk, she left the banquet hall. She preferred research over socializing.

An esper and three ordinary guards—four in total—escorted her out.

From the banquet hall, they took an elevator to the parking garage.

They hadn't taken two steps when the lights overhead suddenly went out. The guards' hearts seized; they immediately circled the doctor, and one pressed the alarm, reporting the anomaly and requesting backup.

Something rolled across the floor with a clatter. The next moment, a hissing sound of gas sprayed.

"Protect the doctor! Don't breathe!"

The doctor's physique wasn't so robust. Though they were already moving her outward, Dr. Sera still accidentally inhaled a breath and lost consciousness after a few steps.

One guard hoisted her up. All aimed their guns outward, but apart from the mysterious gas, the attacker never struck again.

Then, suddenly, the lights came back.

The garage turned bright as day. Several strangers in gas masks stood not far away, eyeing them menacingly.

"Damn! The lights came on early!"

Instantly, sirens pierced the air, shrill and jarring, echoing through the entire building.