Chapter 155: The Project Complete

Navali kept his eyes fixed on Julia.

When the protest was blown up across various news platforms and multiple media outlets began livestreaming it, he watched the images unfolding on his computer screen, his gaze closely trailing Julia’s figure.

Closely trailing.

Deeply gazing.

Anxiously and repeatedly, he dialed her number, but no matter how many times he tried, the other end remained unanswered, until finally, the definitive automated feedback of "The phone you have dialed is powered off" came through.

"Julia..."

"Don't..."

Navali murmured unconsciously, watching the woman in the video stream lead the protesting crowd across the street and breach the police blockade, as if he were right there among them, sweat slowly seeping from his forehead.

Especially when the demonstrators passed without obstruction through the narrow intersection guarded by the police; even though those people wore excited and thrilled smiles on their faces, and the live camera zoomed in on them, making the atmosphere look vibrant and lively, an escalating sense of impending unease pervaded the depths of Navali's heart, tightening his chest.

Until finally.

A gunshot.

Bullets erupting from a shotgun.

Julia falling.

Screams, shouts, chaotic footsteps.

The crowd gathering, scattering, fleeing.

Navali's mind went completely blank.

He parted his lips, silently watching the fallen figure in the center of the frame, utterly incapable of uttering a single word.

Even when the livestream was abruptly cut off, he remained entirely unresponsive.

The scene of Julia's final moment kept replaying in his mind.

Bloody flowers blooming across the woman's chest.

Accompanied by the high-impact bullets piercing her chest, under the sunlight, those blooms of blood resembled red spider lilies blossoming upon a human body.

"Julia..."

Only this name remained in his mind.

And he could do nothing but repeat this name.

Navali sat motionless before the computer for who knows how long; the disconnected streaming platform showed only static snow, and nothing else.

Yet that was perhaps the scene most fitting for Navali's state of mind.

Static noise, white noise, the entire world reduced to a cluster of visual pixels, incapable of organizing into any meaningful form of information thereafter.

Navali sat there, unmoving.

Until the disconnected livestream platform lit up once again.

A brightly dressed female anchor appeared on the stream. Traces of excitement still lingered around her eyebrows and eyes, yet she forced herself to suppress the underlying thrill, doing her utmost to portray a look of "grief" over the incident as she spoke in a solemn voice:

"Moments ago, led by the former prominent figure of the 'Solidarity District', Julia Senanez, hundreds of residents within the 'Solidarity District' participated in a 'Justice March' organized by her. The purpose of this march was to 'seek justice' for Masip Senanez...

"...Hundreds of people, including Julia, believe that the true culprit of the 'Catherine Case' is not Masip Senanez, and that the truth behind this case is nothing more than a colossal lie fabricated by the state police against Masip and the 'Solidarity District', fundamentally aimed at suppressing the passionate calls for minority rights voiced by the 'Solidarity District' under Masip's leadership...

"...However, midway through the protest, Moren Odoula, the father of Catherine Odoula—the victim of the 'Catherine Case'—suddenly appeared at the protest site and fired upon Julia at the front of the procession. The latter collapsed on the spot. Police officers on patrol nearby rushed to the scene, arrested Moren Odoula, and administered emergency aid to Julia, but she had already succumbed to her injuries...

"...Why did Moren Odoula take such an action? As the police apprehended him, our reporter conducted an interview. The following footage shows the interview—"

Navali silently watched the video.

Most of the content of the video was filtered out of his mind, leaving only a few key words echoing.

"Fired..."

"Succumbed to her injuries..."

The meaning of these words...

Did it mean that Julia was already dead?

Navali stared blankly at the broadcast, the fluorescent glow from the computer screen reflecting upon his flushed, dark red face.

The content of the video had already shifted. At the center of the frame appeared a middle-aged man whose eyes burned with a frenzied, desperate rage.

His temples were slightly gray, making him look somewhat aged, and the collar of his shirt was stained with sweat, clearly unwashed for days.

The man was none other than Moren Odoula. His hands were cuffed behind his back by the police, but for some reason, the officers had not immediately led him away, instead granting him an opportunity to be interviewed before being taken into the precinct.

Moren pressed his mouth close to the microphone thrust before him, staring directly into the camera lens, and spoke to the audience in a voice that seemed squeezed out from between his clenched teeth:

"I've heard that many people in the 'Solidarity District' believe that bastard Masip is innocent, and even want to overturn his verdict through street protests...

"...I know what those people are thinking—Masip Senanez, perhaps he really was a good man to certain people. He once saved individuals, adopted some children, and helped the innocent. To them, Masip was an absolute good man. They refuse to acknowledge the evil deeds this 'good man' committed, refuse to let him repent for his sins, and want him to carry a pristine reputation all the way to his grave...

"...But to me, what does any of that matter! My daughter died at the hands of this hypocritical villain! And who knows how many others suffered his dark deeds in secret! Even Adolf was once infinitely gentle toward a little Jewish girl named Rosa, even full of care—yet at the same time, he sent countless Jews to the gas chambers! If anyone worships Masip as a deity simply because they once received his favor, choosing to ignore all the crimes committed by this 'Adolf', then I will never, ever accept such a thing! Even though I killed someone, I have zero regrets!"

Moren Odoula's face dominated the center of the screen; his tightly pressed lips and taut brows bore testimony to his overflowing anger and unwavering resolve.

Even when the live video switched back to the reporter, the overwhelming oppressive presence emitted by this man avenging his daughter seemed to linger in the middle of the screen.

Navali turned off the stream and collapsed heavily onto his bedroom bed.

He watched the world outside his window transform from a bright morning into dusk, and from dusk back to bright morning.

Through multiple days and nights, unfeeling and unwearied, seemingly oblivious to the hunger in his stomach, as if everything else had been cast entirely aside.

Until days later, the reply from "God Talk" finally arrived:

"The engineering is complete.

"Through deep-learning model verification, we have successfully identified the AI-synthesized traces within these videos."