Chapter Twenty-eight: Winning Hearts (II)
Page 1 of 3
August 18, 1993, 8:12 a.m.
Eighteenth floor of an unnamed building, 200 meters above the Umbrella underground laboratory
“You’re just saying that.”
From Wang Luo’s actions and demeanor, one could sense a kind of innate and heartfelt kindness—a quality that, after witnessing all the scheming, deception, and betrayal here, Yang Wentian found himself not repelled by.
So he didn’t dwell on it, but shifted the topic. “So, your purpose in slandering them on television and framing them was to force them to be good people?”
“Exactly. They’re engaged in scientific research—research with enormous destructive potential and equally significant results. For the sake of such research, when they... spread the virus, their mindset is: removing obstacles in the name of lofty science. This attitude—the tendency to forgive oneself for evil deeds in pursuit of a noble goal—can grant tremendous drive and cause massive destruction. It’s clear that, for the residents of this city, nothing poses a greater threat than this mindset.”
“If you simply expose them publicly, it won’t affect that mindset at all. To disrupt it, you need to divert their attention from another angle—by smearing, slandering, and framing them, you create the illusion of some shadowy conspiracy attempting to steal their achievements.”
“These are all things that, in this capitalist age, these Americans will instinctively deem normal and unconsciously accept—it's common sense to them.”
“Then, as a group, without even realizing it, they shift from having a proactive and ambitious attitude toward scientific research to a defensive mindset, not wanting others to seize what they’ve accomplished.”
“Under this mentality, it becomes most advantageous for them to pursue justice, order, and fairness. It’s hard for a group to commit vile acts while striving for justice at the same time.”
“Plunder... justice... mentality…” Yang Wentian scratched his head. “I don’t quite get what you’re saying.”
“It’s fine, I’m just rambling anyway. Didn’t expect you to understand,” Wang Luo replied with a smile.
Yang Wentian widened his eyes, then chuckled as well.
August 18, 1993, 8:11 a.m.
Umbrella Underground Laboratory, Delegation of Civilian Representatives
Zhu Cunjia also felt something was off.
The “civilian representatives,” along with the journalists beside him, were still loud and chatting, but the air seemed colder somehow. Though the corridor was brightly lit, a chill like that of a basement crept in suddenly.
The earpiece was still broadcasting Wang Luo’s sermon. Yang Wentian might not understand, but to Zhu Cunjia, it wasn’t complicated.
Still, this inspection had been arranged by him—so why hadn’t they come down yet? What new scheme was afoot?
The difficulty of this scenario was only rated B; so far, aside from being toyed with a few times by that kid, nothing problematic had happened. The secret mission exclusive to the Devil Card was within reach—so why did this sense of unease linger?
He instinctively edged closer to the crowd.
August 18, 1993, 8:12 a.m.
Eighteenth floor of an unnamed building, 200 meters above the Umbrella underground laboratory
“As for drawing hatred and providing Umbrella with a target, I chose an easily recognizable persona. The latest Batman movie is popular, right? Perfect, I’ll use the Joker.”
“People’s instincts generally drive them to do the opposite of what they despise. So, by appearing as the Joker, orchestrating schemes and sabotage from the shadows, there’s a strong chance our enemies will unconsciously align themselves with Batman’s image.”
“Guided by a series of prior actions, they—at least some of them—when retaliating against us, will begin to imitate the hero figure in their minds. Once the company, as a whole, shapes this group mentality at this stage, even the top bosses will be affected. Even if they don’t become good people, their actions will certainly shift to a different rhythm.”
Page 2 of 3
“In siegecraft, attacking the city is least effective; capturing the heart is paramount. What’s the point of everything I’ve done so far? It’s to use rumors, destruction, murder, and agitation to lure and force the citizens of this city—and this company—to act according to a predetermined script.”
“To save these people’s lives, and turn the company’s staff into a group of good people.”
After hearing this, Yang Wentian was silent for a long time, while Zhou Yingxiong’s gaze brimmed with admiration.
“This plan has a lot of flaws,” Yang Wentian objected about five minutes later. “It’s not detailed enough, just a rough outline, and a lot of specifics could go wrong.”
“Don’t sweat the details,” Wang Luo said, spreading his hands. “I don’t expect it to be flawless. For me, as long as I keep the general direction right, that’s enough.”
“Anyway... even if it fails, it’s the city that gets destroyed, not me.”
“I’m willing to save them, so I’ll try. But that’s all there is to it. Doing this doesn’t mean I’m taking on some inexplicable burden. If I do my best and still can’t save them, then let them die. Medicine can’t heal the incurable, and the Buddha only helps the predestined. If I can save them, all well and good; if not, so be it.”
“But what about the endgame?” Yang Wentian asked. “If the company’s people can’t catch the Joker and you never go down there…”
“Well... actually, the initial plan was to deliver a final taunt on television.”
“Taunt?”
“Yes, at this moment in time. Go hijack the station again, appear as the Joker, declare the gold story a hoax, mock the citizens for their greed these past days, play up the company’s innocence, boast that we’ve already taken what we wanted—and leave the whole city waiting for the next act.”
“So why are we still here?”
“Because I ran into someone—someone very much like the managers and bosses I used to know.” Wang Luo extended his right index finger, tapping the air. “Let’s play a game.”
August 18, 1993, 8:16 a.m.
Umbrella Underground Laboratory, Surveillance Room
“Are you sure he’s in there?”
Manager A had come to the surveillance room, watching the advancing group on the monitors.
“We’ll know in a moment,” Johnson replied, still looking calm. “Very soon.”
If they didn’t catch the Joker this time, things would get uglier. But putting more pressure on his subordinates was pointless—his plan was solid. Now, it just depended on the outcome...
5, 4, 3, 2, 1—the group, following the planned route, entered the screening room.
“Now!” As the doors to the screening room closed, Johnson gave the order.
August 18, 1993, 8:12 a.m.
Eighteenth floor of an unnamed building, 200 meters above the Umbrella underground laboratory
“A game? How do you play it?”
“The game is called ‘Follow.’ It’s quite simple, really—whatever I do, you do the same within two minutes. Fail to keep up, and you lose. Ready... go!”
Wang Luo smiled.
Page 3 of 3
Yang Wentian smiled back.
Wang Luo stood up.
Yang Wentian stood up.
Wang Luo raised his hands and twisted his body.
Yang Wentian raised his hands and twisted his body.
Wang Luo picked up the glass in front of him and took a sip of water.
Yang Wentian picked up his own glass and took a sip of water.
Wang Luo sat down.
Yang Wentian sat down.
Wang Luo’s lips curled into a smile.
Yang Wentian’s lips curled into a smile.
Wang Luo opened his mouth, letting water spill out and dribble onto his pants.
Yang Wentian opened his mouth, utterly bewildered.
“This little trick I saw on television. Four years ago, I played it with my boss,” Wang Luo said as he picked up a napkin to dab the water from his pants. “An excellent textile factory entrepreneur—always claimed that ‘imitation is everything’ and ‘second is first.’ I believed plagiarism had its own weakness, and proved it to him.”
“And what happened?”
“I was fired. That was all I could expect. After seeing that show yesterday afternoon, I suddenly had a great idea.”
August 18, 1993, 8:17 a.m.
Umbrella Underground Laboratory, Delegation of Civilian Representatives
In recent scenes, Zhu Cunjia had always remained calm.
This composure came from his confidence, his strength, the Devil Card he’d painstakingly accumulated, and his combat experience. That’s why he could face Yang Wentian’s doubts without concern, control his anger when dealing with Wang Luo’s deceit, and continue cooperating. All this wasn’t for any other reason—it was simply because he was strong.
So, when they entered a large room and the leading mayor suddenly turned around, tearing off a plastic mask to reveal a young, ruthless face, he didn’t panic; when the surrounding journalists and representatives shouted different code phrases at once, he could quickly match their lips; when those around him shed their jackets to reveal gray vests beneath, he could swiftly draw his gun and take cover; even when he saw enemies lying in ambush at the entrance, aiming their guns, he still had the presence of mind to hurl his camera to block them temporarily and make his escape.
But Tang Xiaoxiao, faced with guns trained on her, was so terrified she collapsed in a heap, soiling herself in utter despair.