4:07 p.m.
SID Operations Room.

The lights had not changed.

The people had.

No one was treating this as a case anymore.

On screen—

four faces.

Lin Bing.
Hong Yu.
Tan Xin Yi.
Su Mei Mei.

No longer victims.

Data points.

“Integrate.”

Tan Chih Lin said.

The screens split.

Timeline expanded.

Case one.
Case two.
Case three.
Case four.

Four lines.

Not parallel.

Progressive.

“Look.”

First case.

Lin Bing.

“Exposure—short.”

“Concentration—low.”

“Response—slow.”

Second.

Hong Yu.

“Exposure increased.”

“Concentration higher.”

“Response faster.”

Third.

Tan Xin Yi.

“Structure adjusted.”

“Concealment improved.”

“Response stabilized.”

Fourth.

Su Mei Mei.

“Composite structure complete.”

“Close-range supplemental release.”

“Response—precise.”

Silence.

Because now—

everyone understood.

This wasn’t four cases.

It was four experiments.

“He’s tuning parameters,” Yim Bing said.

“Yes,” Tan nodded.

“Dosage.”

“Pathway.”

“Trigger timing.”

“Human response.”

“All recorded.”

Chang stared at the screen.

Softly:

“Then they—”

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t need to.

They weren’t targets.

They were samples.

The room sank.

“This isn’t assassination,” Lee said.

“No,” Yong replied.

“This is experimentation.”

Pause.

“And we—”

He looked at the timeline.

“only just realized.”

The screen shifted.

A hidden dataset emerged.

Not chemistry.

Records.

IDs.

Parameters.

Results.

Like a lab report.

“He logs every release outcome.”

“Response time.”

“Loss of consciousness.”

“Physiological collapse threshold.”

“All quantified.”

“How does he get the data?” Kim asked.

Tan stared at the screen.

“We give it to him.”

Silence snapped tight.

“What do you mean?” Lee asked.

“Hospital records.”

“Police reports.”

“Scene data.”

“All—”

“being accessed.”

Chang’s eyes darkened.

“Beta.”

Tan nodded.

“Beta is not the experiment.”

“It is the data retrieval system.”

Everything aligned.

Scent—input.
Human—execution.
Beta—collection.

A complete system.

“He’s not killing,” Yim Bing said.

“He’s learning,” Sum added.

“With people,” Chang said.

The room turned cold.

“What’s the endgame?” Kim asked.

No one answered.

Because the question—

was too big.

Tan spoke slowly:

“When variables stabilize.”

“When errors converge.”

“When outcomes become predictable.”

He looked up.

“It scales.”

That word cut.

“Scales what?” Lee asked.

Tan didn’t hesitate.

“Control.”

Silence.

The city map lit up again.

Dots.

More.

“He doesn’t need a target.”

“He needs a population.”

Chang said quietly:

“The fifth target—”

“Is not the end,” Yong said.

“It’s the next dataset.”

Silence.

“What are we doing then?” Lee asked.

No one answered immediately.

Because the truth—

was difficult.

Finally—

Yong spoke.

“We are interfering with the experiment.”

Pause.

“And he—”

He looked at the screen.

“will adjust.”

Cold air.

“He will upgrade,” Yim Bing said.

“Yes,” Tan said.

“And faster.”

A new data point flashed.

Intervals—

shorter.

“He’s already started the next cycle,” Tan said quietly.

“Where?” Yong asked.

No answer.

Because—

there was no fixed location.

“He doesn’t need one,” Chang said.

“As long as people exist—”

“The experiment continues.”

The air moved.

No scent.

But pressure.

“He’s watching results,” Chang said.

“And we—”

She paused.

“are variables.”

No one argued.

Because now—

they understood their place.

Not hunters.

Not targets.

But—

part of the system.

The four names dimmed.

Lin Bing.
Hong Yu.
Tan Xin Yi.
Su Mei Mei.

Not endings.

Completed entries.

The lights remained cold.

The machines kept running.

The city remained normal.

But everyone knew—

Nothing—

was normal anymore.