The Natives of This World Are Fierce

There hadn’t been any explosive news recently, nor any fabricated propaganda to debunk. The editorial department of *Where the Nightingale Flies* was mainly focused on their newly launched app.

They took every single comment very seriously—small teams are always more efficient in the early stages of a startup.

Since it was their own app and not just a public account under WeChat, eighty percent of the initial sign-ups, aside from spammers, were die-hard fans of *Where the Nightingale Flies*.

On a whim, they logged into the admin account, wanting to check the last login IP of that "Scarecrow" user.

"What the— This guy is still online?"

The office wasn’t large to begin with, so everyone heard Count’s outburst. But even though they were all familiar with each other, they were working overtime, so they pretended to be busy.

But Count’s shouting still drew everyone’s attention, and one by one, they all gathered around to see.

The new app didn’t have much content yet. Although registered users had broken three thousand in just a few days, only a few dozen were currently online—and among them was that "Scarecrow."

Su Province, Town?

"Should we look at his registration info?"

Count asked Cui Ying and glanced at the others. Seeing no objections, he pulled up Scarecrow’s registration information.

It contained a few personal questions and answers, along with a registered phone number.

"Should we call and ask?"

"Do it!"

The group figured this was being responsible, not harassment, so they dialed the number directly from the office landline.

But they were met with a "the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable" message.

"Uh, now what?"

They were in a bind. If they ignored it, what if something was really wrong? If they got involved, it wasn’t as if they had the technical skills to do anything about it.

A young woman on the team said bluntly,

"If he’s not going to call the police, then we’ll just call them for him!"

That made sense!

It had to be said that being a group of journalists sometimes carried a special kind of leverage.

When they called, the emergency dispatch center was initially unimpressed by a report based on nothing more than a few website comments.

After all, the internet was full of trolls, and there were plenty of people crying wolf about the end of the world. They couldn’t possibly investigate every single one.

But as soon as they heard it was a media group like *Where the Nightingale Flies*, they had to handle it with caution.

These days, it wasn’t just businesses of all sizes that feared negative press; the public sector had a headache with it too.

So, the case was forwarded to the Town police department with instructions to verify the status of the phone number’s owner.

And as it turned out, the verification check uncovered a real problem.

Town Police Department, Rong County Branch.

Since the owner of the number ending in 2251 was verified as a resident of Rong County, the minor case was transferred here.

The police first tried dialing the number to contact the owner, Chaoxian Army, but were met with the "unavailable" message.

Records indicated he was a contract farmer who grew some off-season vegetables and strawberries, and he usually lived in a small tile-roofed house on his contracted plot.

Then, they found his wife’s number in the files and dialed it, only to get the same "unavailable" message.

This instinctively drew the police’s attention.

The Rong County police dispatched four officers to go directly to Chaoxian Army’s contracted plot and see for themselves.

The police didn’t wait until the next day; they set out immediately.

It was already past 9 p.m. The land Chaoxian Army had contracted was "wasteland" that the village no longer cultivated, so the plot was in a rather remote location.

A police car, with its navigation system on, followed the main road before turning onto a small path with no streetlights.

The night was dark, and visibility was low.

The car’s high beams seemed to be the only light on the gravel path, cutting through the night like two white cones.

Inside the car, the four officers stared out the windows.

"Xinyuan, we should be getting close, right?"

The older officer in the passenger seat asked the young officer who was driving.

"Almost there. The navigation shows less than 500 meters to go."

Hearing this, the other three in the car perked up.

The old officer in the passenger seat frowned, gazing into the distance ahead.

It was a pitch-black mass; he couldn’t make out a thing.

"Not a single light on at the farm plot? Xinyuan, slow down."

The first part was to himself; the second was an order.

The older officer’s name was Jin Shunfu. Though his name was a bit rustic, he was sharp and competent, a well-regarded figure in the Rong County police force.

For some reason, he now suddenly regretted not applying for a sidearm for this mission, having found the paperwork too troublesome.

There was no reason for it, just a gut feeling.

The car slowly came to a stop about ten meters from the farm plot. In the last few dozen meters, Old Jin had already told the driver, Zhang Xinyuan, to turn off the headlights.

Influenced by Old Jin’s tension, the four of them were no longer as relaxed as they had been on the way over. They exited the car stealthily, crouching down and closing the doors gently.

It wasn’t impossible for someone to be asleep past nine p.m., but for such a large farm plot, there would usually be lights set up in places to deter crop thieves, as well as things like insect-repelling lamps. Many farmers also kept dogs.

They weren’t experts, but they had seen other contract farms with greenhouses. None were like this one... so eerie!

No human voices, no barking dogs, and no light.

Originally, they had planned to just shout for the owner when they arrived. Now, they all remained silent.

Old Jin and Zhang Xinyuan crept near one of the greenhouses. They could faintly see the tile-roofed house about twenty meters away, accessible only by a small gravel path that was too narrow for a car.

"Sir, look..."

Zhang Xinyuan nudged Old Jin, gesturing for him to look to the side.

Old Jin turned his head and saw Zhang Xinyuan staring at a straight, green plant.

No, it wasn’t a plant—it was a lamppost!

’What is going on here?’

The lamppost was about two meters tall, completely and tightly entwined by a green, vine-like plant that snaked all the way up to the bulb at the top, which was why Old Jin had mistaken it for a plant at first.

This must have been one of the night lights! ’Had it been broken for a long time?’

After discovering the lamppost, Old Jin suddenly abandoned his plan to go straight to the house. Instead, he quietly led the team on a short detour around the perimeter of the plot.

In just ten minutes, they found a total of four lampposts, all of them, without exception, entangled in some kind of viny vegetation.

Moreover, Old Jin and the others discovered that this stuff was practically all over the ground between the fields.

This was a strawberry farm. Shouldn’t the ground outside the greenhouses be almost completely free of even weeds?

The four officers’ confusion deepened.

"Let’s go. We’ll check the house. If no one’s there, we’ll check inside the greenhouses. Watch your step, and don’t turn on any lights!"

The small, single-story house in the distance was clearly just a temporary shelter for watching over the greenhouses, its size laughably small.

But as the four officers crept closer, the house gave Old Jin the illusion of a ferocious beast, lying silently in wait to devour them.

It took them over a minute to stealthily cross the twenty-odd meters to the front of the house.

The main Door was shut tight, and the concrete ground in front of it was also covered in those vines.

Zhang Xinyuan tiptoed to a window, pulled a high-powered flashlight from his belt, and gestured to his companions.

Old Jin nodded at him, then drew his baton and stood on guard.

CLICK. The flashlight switched on, its beam shining through the window into the interior.

CRASH—

Abruptly, the window exploded. Countless vines, like black snakes, shot out from inside, instantly swallowing the flashlight and Zhang Xinyuan.

"Ah—"

The scream lasted for half a second before being cut short.

"Fall back, fall back! Go, go, go—!!"

Old Jin roared, dropping his baton to grab the other two stunned officers and drag them back, away from the mass of vines that was still slowly writhing, the flashlight’s beam still faintly visible from within...

PS: A big thank you to reader 20180330011052423 for the 2,000 coin donation, reader Guochanyingqiqi for the 500 coin donation, and readers Houmianzi and Woxuemianyun for the 100 coin donations!