Chapter 429: Big Rat

Ding Xunchun couldn't remember how he left Peace Mansion.

His mind was a foggy blur as he walked, completely oblivious to the greetings of the subordinates he passed.

He just kept walking forward, the street scenes blurring into a haze around him.

But he wasn't completely devoid of emotion.

He knew he was furious.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and the veins bulging on the backs of his hands.

Aside from that rage, however, his mind was utterly empty.

He kept walking until he reached an open plaza.

A fountain in the center gently sprayed water into the air.

He sat down on the edge of the pool, stared at his reflection in the water, and suddenly threw up.

Filth splattered over his crisp suit. He retched violently, his throat burning, until the heaving finally stopped.

After wiping his mouth with water, he blankly looked around, only now realizing he had walked all the way from Peace District to Victory District.

There was a famous café nearby, and quite a few people had already noticed him.

As the Minister of the Central Intelligence Department, he didn't appear in public as often as other ministers, but his face wasn't completely unknown.

Many bystanders had already raised their hands, recording the scene with their Information Components.

A sudden rush of fury shot straight to his head.

These! Stupid! Pigs!

They had no idea what he had done for them, nor what he was facing right now. All they cared about were trivial, insignificant, mundane little things.

Fuck!

He clenched his right fist and slammed it against the marble ledge, nearly shattering the stone.

Suddenly, his thoughts drifted back to many years ago.

He was just a nobody back then. The only reason he had managed to thrive in politics later was because of a certain person's guidance.

That person possessed a precise, penetrating understanding of politics and employed ruthlessly effective schemes. Under his tutelage, Ding Xunchun quickly gained a foothold, climbing step by step to his current position.

But five years ago, when he reached out to repay the favor, the man rejected him outright.

"If I wanted a reward, I would have taken it ten years ago."

"Your reaching this position is reward enough for me."

"But you must remember two things."

"First, never reveal my identity."

"Second, do not blame me."

Confused, Ding Xunchun had asked over the comms, "Why would I ever blame you?"

"Because this position isn't as wonderful as you think."

The man explained, "Other than politicians, the vast majority of people don't care about politics. And of those who do care, they don't actually understand it."

"Once you reach that height, with very rare exceptions, no one will ever understand you again."

"You once told me that someone who isn't understood by anyone will have a hard time surviving in the political arena," Ding Xunchun had said. "If the day comes when I truly reach the point of being entirely misunderstood, what should I do?"

He had a premonition that it would be their final conversation, so he wanted to seize the chance to glean some useful "knowledge," even if only a little.

"Swing the knife." The man on the other end answered without a second's hesitation, as if he had anticipated the question long ago. "If you do not swing the knife, you can only accept the fate of being put to the knife."

Swing the knife...

What did it mean to swing the knife?

Even now, Ding Xunchun didn't have a clear answer.

After that conversation, he never saw the man again.

And now, watching the expressions and movements of the crowd around him, he remembered that exchange from all those years ago and let out a bitter smile.

He was right again.

Exactly as expected of him.

He really was pathetic. It felt as if his every move had been calculated to the letter.

Then, a strange thought surfaced in his mind:

If that man were here, maybe he could help resolve his current predicament.

In truth, after the man vanished, Ding Xunchun had secretly tried to track him down, only to discover something rather shocking.

Aside from him, a very small number of other politicians had also been in contact with the man.

Yet, just like with him, the man had never asked any of them for a reward.

So what exactly was his goal?

Ding Xunchun hadn't understood it at the time, so he deliberately invited one of his subordinates who had also interacted with the man out for a meal, trying to pry out some answers.

He found out that the subordinate's contact with the man had been even shorter than his own.

Start to finish, they had only interacted for a few months.

Shortly after the subordinate got promoted, the man disappeared.

There wasn't even a goodbye.

"Minister Ding, sometimes I think he wasn't satisfied with my performance, so he just left."

The subordinate had gotten drunk and poured his heart out.

He claimed he had simply failed to follow the man's advice on a single issue, and as a result, he was "abandoned."

After listening to the whole story, Ding Xunchun had personally escorted the subordinate home.

About a month later, the subordinate committed suicide in his home.

The incident had caused quite a stir at the time.

But Ding Xunchun wasn't very surprised.

Because he was the one who had killed him.

Try not to leave any loose ends to be used against you.

That was also what the man had taught him.

After that, he stopped looking for the man.

With these thoughts in mind, he walked into the café and requested a private room. Once inside, he stood on the sofa and personally removed the overhead surveillance camera.

After conducting an Anomalous Energy Detection, he pulled an Information Component he'd bought from the black market out of his pocket.

Relying on memory, he punched in a comms number.

It was the man's number.

He had called it many times before. It always connected, but no one on the other end ever spoke, and the call would terminate after three seconds.

Staring at the number, he hesitated for a long time before dialing it once more.

Beep... beep... beep...

Just like before, the Information Component connected after a few seconds.

Victory District.

Anthill.

An abandoned factory.

Papa Rat poked his head out of the polluted pool, hopped onto the bank, and shook the water from his fur.

"That guy is really something... hiding it here..."

Papa Rat wore a dark expression.

He hadn't expected that one of the final traced spore-release locations would actually be at the bottom of the very pool from the previous environmental pollution incident.

It was a fiendishly clever spot.

The bottom of the pool was shaped like an inverted V, making it incredibly difficult for most construction equipment to reach, and the cost of bringing in specialized machinery was astronomically high.

Therefore, after the pollution incident, it was highly likely that the cleanup crew would—

Cut corners.

They would ignore this section entirely, choosing to either bury it directly or only treat the upper layers.

The human who planted the Origin Plant had clearly accounted for this.

And had taken a gamble.

"Fuck, those stupid pigs got completely outplayed by a human."

Papa Rat's little face was taut with anger. "If they hadn't cut corners, this thing would have been found ages ago."

His rage spiraling, he started cursing Mao Si. "And that little brat! Bad enough he didn't tell me about this thing, but he hasn't sent a single message in days!! Won't answer my calls either!!!"

Tiring himself out from yelling, he sat down by the polluted pool, pulled an apple out of his storage device, and began gnawing on it with both hands.

Still, finding the item that controlled the spores was a good thing. Now he just had to tell Crocodile and let him announce the news.

Once this was exposed and the crisis resolved, Crocodile's chances of winning the election would skyrocket.

"Heh, he still has to rely on me in the end."

Papa Rat chewed with bulging cheeks. "Once this is all over, if I don't catch that brat and beat him black and blue, my name isn't Boss Rat."

His mood improved considerably. He figured this was a blessing in disguise; even though a plant disease had broken out, it increased Crocodile's chances of success.

Suddenly, he felt something vibrating inside his clothes. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a battered Information Component.

It was a modified Information Component, capable of storing multiple comms numbers at once.

Glancing at the caller ID and the corresponding receiver number on his end, he checked his records.

Soon, he identified the caller.

Stunned for a moment, he answered the call.

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but I've run into some trouble. I really don't know what to do, so calling you was my only option."

"..."

Staring at the completely silent Information Component, a flash of stubborn unwillingness crossed Ding Xunchun's eyes. He pressed on. "Sir, I'm truly out of options. Just like you said back then, there's no one left who understands me."

"The President... is planning to dispose of me..."

After a moment of hesitation, he finally confessed his predicament, spilling his biggest secret. Yet, the other side remained dead silent.

As if no one was even there.

But how could the call connect if no one was there?!

The only explanation was that the man wasn't interested, or perhaps found the news entirely unsurprising.

Ding Xunchun was filled with bitter reluctance.

Just as he let out a long sigh, ready to accept this fact...

Suddenly, his eyes flickered, lighting up with inexpressible joy.

The call hadn't been disconnected!

A few seconds later, it dawned on him: the man found this news interesting and was waiting for him to reveal more!

He took a deep breath and spoke into the Information Component. "Sir, my current situation is truly... truly critical..."

He then explained the entire ordeal from start to finish, keeping his words as concise as possible.

He laid everything bare: the orders Quan Dazhong had issued, the choices he had made, and the cause and effect of it all.

Finally, a second or two after he finished, a deep voice came through the line. "Swing the knife."

"At whom?"

Like a dying man clutching at straws, he asked the question with desperate urgency.

It was a question that should have received an answer years ago, yet only now was it about to be answered.

"At the one swinging the knife at you."

Having said that, the man on the other end hung up.

No matter how many times Ding Xunchun dialed back, there was no response.

And this time, it didn't connect and sit in silence like before; it simply displayed that the number could not be reached.

The man must have turned off his device or removed the SIM card.

Which meant that it truly was their final conversation.

The feeling of finding the antidote only to instantly lose it left Ding Xunchun practically breathless.

He was a Seventh Rank.

And not a weak one, either.

Yet right now, he felt as if a mountain was crushing down on him.

Several minutes later, once he finally calmed down, he started seriously formulating a plan.

Quan Dazhong wanted him dead.

That much was already known.

His remaining options boiled down to a few choices:

Die, flee, or fight back. Just rolling over and dying was out of the question.

If he fled, he couldn't use public transport. Given the current comms technology and his status, the moment he bought any ticket out of the Heavenly Kingdom, Quan Dazhong would be immediately notified.

He would either have to use a smuggling route or someone else's Information Component.

Using someone else's Information Component was easy enough; even with identity verification, he could find a workaround.

But that required careful planning and time.

He couldn't just kill someone on the street and use their Information Component to buy a ticket.

He would need to simulate their identity data in advance—ideally acquiring their voice, iris, and facial data...

There simply wasn't enough time.

Taking a smuggling route was equally unrealistic.

There was only one smuggling route out of the Heavenly Kingdom that he knew of, and that black market path was actually controlled by Quan Dazhong.

Yes, the so-called "smuggling route" was essentially an official channel. The exorbitant fees people paid ultimately lined the coffers of Peace Mansion.

Which meant...

He really had to swing the knife...

But that was an astronomically massive undertaking.

Rebellion wasn't child's play. Quan Dazhong had a Tier of his own, and not a low one either. Plus, there was a Heavenly Kingdom Weapon and an Eighth Tier expert guarding him. If Ding Xunchun made a move, he had to be lightning fast, and securing the Heavenly Kingdom Weapon was paramount. And then, once Quan Dazhong was dead, who would become President? Him? Would the Eighth Tier agree to that? What would his fate be then...

His eyes were fraught with internal struggle.

Just then, a number flashed on the Information Component on his right wrist.

It was Quan Dazhong.

Taking a deep breath, he answered the call. "Mr. President."

"Take a trip to Muke District. I'll send you the exact coordinates shortly," Quan Dazhong ordered.

"Have you locked onto the location of the Origin Plant?" Ding Xunchun probed tentatively.

"Yes. Take all available personnel in Victory District with you."

Bring my people...

Then this shouldn't be a trap for me...

Ding Xunchun quickly weighed the possibilities in his mind.

If he's still assigning me tasks...

It made sense. Right now, there was no way Quan Dazhong could know that he knew about the assassination order.

A conflicted look flashed through his eyes before he drew a deep breath. "Understood, Mr. President."

No...

He still needed more time to plan.

Swinging the knife...

It wasn't that easy to just swing the knife.

His gaze hardened. He stepped out the door, intending to hail a car and head back.

But as he exited the private room, he discovered that the once-bustling café was completely deserted.

Instantly, an overwhelming sense of dread seized his heart.

Then, a familiar figure slowly stepped out from the shadows of a corner.

It was an old man with thinning hair and a gaunt, skeletal face.

"Heh..."

Ding Xunchun let out a miserable chuckle.

How was he discovered?

Was it when he eavesdropped outside the door? Or at the hot springs? Or was there a bug in this very room?

He didn't understand. He didn't understand at all.

Just like he didn't understand why Quan Dazhong had decided to kill him in the first place.

Boss Rat took a deep breath, staring at the audio recording in his hand.

—

He had already transmitted a small snippet of this recording to Peace Mansion.

He was certain it wouldn't be long before Ding Xunchun was dead.

When that happened, this recording would be the final stepping stone for Crocodile's ascension.

He understood Quan Dazhong better than anyone.

Otherwise, he never would have chosen Quan Dazhong out of all the candidates and become his advisor.

The man was obstinate, ruthless, and trusted absolutely no one.

Of course, part of that was due to his own influence as Big Rat.

After all, Quan Dazhong could be considered his "masterpiece."

It was just that this "masterpiece" had gone out of control.

Merely a month after taking office, he had been bitten back by his own creation.

That was the first time he had ever lost.