The stroke of luck attached to the coin made the decision for him.
You don't need to care about the "what-ifs." It is exactly what you fear it is.
Shu clutched the coin tightly. The crushing weight on his chest eased just a fraction.
Alright. Time to analyze.
He pocketed the coin and locked his eyes on the GPS location displayed on his phone. At the same time, complete maps of the city, with his apartment at the epicenter, began to unfurl in his mind.
First, he had two definitive points—his home, and the final ping from the collar.
The first leg of the route was already established: a straight line connecting his home to the collar's location. From the collar's final ping onward, the possible escape routes exploded outward like a starburst, scattering in every direction.
He eliminated the dead ends and pedestrian-only paths. Then, he overlaid every single possible route onto the streets surrounding the collar's location—
Concrete maps materialized in his mind's eye. Each one turned transparent before another was layered on top of it.
He needed to exhaustively calculate every possible escape route, layer them all together, and identify the chokepoints—the few specific locations that every single route had to pass through.
Found them!
The moment the final route snapped into the expanding web in his mind, Shu found his answer in exactly one second.
Five locations. Every single route diverging from the collar's final location, heading away from his apartment, must pass through one of these five specific points.
Without a moment's hesitation, Shu turned and ran. He didn't even bother to close the door to his apartment.
Locks only kept honest people out anyway. They did nothing against scum.
Outside, the sky had fully transitioned into dusk. The bleeding red sunset felt like a glaring alarm, warning Shu: You are running out of time.
Shu refused to listen to the fear-mongering sky. Gripping his phone tight, he ducked his head and sprinted forward blindly.
First location—Nothing out of the ordinary.
Second location—Nothing.
Third location—
Nothing.
His luck was as abysmal as ever. Opening blind boxes was supposed to be the last little joy he allowed himself.
Fuck blind boxes.
Fourth location!
It was a small convenience store by the road. Panting and exhausted, Shu burst through the doors. Without hesitation, he raised his phone and scanned the QR code on the counter.
[Received: 10,000 Yuan.]
The owner behind the register had just looked up when the automated voice announced the massive payment. Stunned, he stared at the young man who had just sent the money. The man's eyes were bloodshot, and he let out a low, albeit polite, growl.
"Security footage. I want to see the footage from the camera facing your entrance for the last hour."
This was the fourth time Shu had spoken these words today. He was gasping for air, his emotions a turbulent storm, and his face was so haggard that the owner couldn't find the words to refuse.
"...Please..." The final word was a raspy, exhausted whisper.
"...O-okay... okay..." It took the stunned owner several seconds to snap out of it and pull up the footage.
2x speed. 4x speed. 8x speed...
16x speed!
Shu cranked the playback to maximum velocity. He hyper-focused, tracking every single person who flashed across the screen.
Confirmation bias was a serious problem. Shu knew that if he watched the footage with the paranoid mindset of "everyone is a suspect," he might not be able to identify the true enemy.
Fortunately, he was still somewhat in control.
Forcing himself into a detached, overhead perspective, Shu observed every passing figure from an absolute third-person point of view.
The foot traffic in front of the store was heavy. A kaleidoscope of people bumped and jostled past one another, turning into an indistinguishable blur at 16x speed.
The owner watched the seemingly shattered young man in confusion. To the owner, the hyper-fast footage was just a chaotic strobe light. He couldn't see a damn thing.
What the hell is he looking for...?
"Stop!"
Shu's abrupt shout made the owner jump, his finger hitting the pause button a beat too late. The startled owner felt a flash of irritation, but the thought of the ten thousand yuan quickly extinguished it.
"Rewind fifteen seconds." Taking a deep breath, Shu had the owner reset the speed to normal and rewind the footage.
He watched the next fifteen seconds play out in real-time.
A figure in a dark hoodie with the hood pulled up walked briskly past the store entrance, carrying a black canvas bag. The figure was hunched over and eventually climbed into a van at the edge of the frame.
This guy—
Does he have a hunchback?
No. His shoulders are rolled forward and his collarbones are drawn inward. It's a defensive posture—a habitual contraction developed by someone who is constantly expecting scrutiny, or someone who knows they are engaging in illicit behavior.
Not only that. His stride is about a third shorter than an average adult's. When his foot strikes, his heel hits first, but there's no rolling transition. He slaps his foot flat against the ground and immediately lifts it.
His leg muscles are visibly tense, ready to change speed at a moment's notice. His gaze is pointed downward, avoiding eye contact, yet he's constantly shifting his field of vision to ensure he has a wide view of his surroundings...
He's guilty.
Shu's gaze shifted to the canvas bag in the man's hand.
The handle of the bag was wrapped around his palm and locked into place by his knuckles.
That's an instinctive compensation for a weight that's heavier than expected. By increasing the friction, he's transferring some of the load to his wrist joint.
He clearly has easier ways to carry it. He could switch hands, or sling it over his shoulder.
But he doesn't switch hands.
Carrying a heavy load with one hand continuously, without switching, means his other hand needs to remain free—ready to open doors, push aside obstacles, or engage in combat if necessary.
His free hand is buried in the front pocket of his hoodie. That's a preparatory stance anticipating a physical confrontation.
There were countless other tells. But even if he ignored all of them, Shu could feel his very soul screaming alarms at the sight of this man.
It's him. I'm absolutely certain.
Shu's fists clenched tightly. He looked up, staring out the glass window at the actual spot where the man had walked past, and the curb where the van had been parked.
It was empty now.
He needed one final confirmation.
Shu pulled out the coin again.
"Is he my enemy?" he asked the coin in a low whisper, completely unbothered by the owner's presence.
He flicked the lucky coin. It tumbled through the air and landed.
Heads.
Undeniable.
Shu took a deep breath. He glanced back at the screen, took one final, burning look at the canvas bag in the man's hand, and memorized the license plate of the van he drove away in.
He got into the driver's seat... It's highly likely he's working alone.
And... since he's driving, it means his route is once again restricted to roads that accommodate vehicles.
Which means, all I have to do is find the next chokepoint!