It was a sunny morning, warm and comfortable.

I lay in the open space outside the TV gate, in a pool of my own blood, letting the warm sunlight shine on my face and body, as if it could heal the gunshot wound in my chest.

Is this the end? Or ...... Just the beginning?

…………

I infiltrated the TV station building in the wee hours of the morning, and it wasn't hard to sneak in, after all, I knew a lot about what was going on inside them.

In the past six months, I have dealt with many people, from celebrities to coal miners, and many of them are colleagues who work in TV stations.

Some of these interactions were genuine, while others were purely impetual, but neither of them prevented me from obtaining information.

People are very willing to share "private information that is not their own", the difference is only that there is a difference in the tendency to share, for example, women are more inclined to gossip, while men are more inclined to complain about fuck at work.

For the vast majority of people, as long as it's not their secret, it's not a secret.

Take a taxi driver as an example, if you meet a driver who is talkative and takes the initiative to talk to you, you can easily ask a lot about his work and even his family in a conversation with him, unless you don't know how to chat.

There are also barbers who love to chat, elderly people who are receiving physiotherapy in hospitals, buddies who sit next to you in the sauna, guys who stand in front of or behind you when there is a long line at the playground, and so on; As long as you have some social skills, any stranger who needs to stay with you for some reason can be your source of information, and the easiest information to get is about their work.

Make up a few lies that are not easy to debunk and no one will delve into to make people feel that you resonate with him/her; Say a few words from time to time to flatter the other person; React to each other in a certain way, and the content of the reaction is dominated by different degrees of surprise and "I'm interested" looks, so ...... You'll be able to get the other person to open up the conversation quickly.

After becoming proficient, with some sincere expressions and tones, the whole process will be very natural, and if there is wine on the spot, things will be easier to do.

Through this method, I gained a lot of "inside information" that outsiders don't know at one dinner after another; Although in the eyes of those who leaked it, they are all insignificant, such as "the cleaners of the TV station usually take another employee aisle", "the time and approximate number of security guards on the night shift", "the situation of the staff on duty from late night to early morning" and so on.

However, when necessary, this information becomes useful and effective.

The security here has been very lax due to the long-term stability, so I wore a cleaner's uniform that I could buy at a roadside shop, got a key card from the lounge, and pushed a cart that looked like it was stacked with cleaning supplies, and I went to the floor I wanted to go to.

I went to a studio, pulled out a toy gun with a very similar sound, fired a shot at the ceiling, and immediately took control of the scene.

It's just a local radio station, and there aren't many people on duty in the early hours of the morning; After blocking the only exit, I took out a couple of handcuffs that I had bought from an adult store and threw them to the people present...... These men had done a good job, so they were very desperate, and some of them quickly recognized me, and they knew that I was a disgraced fellow who was likely to lose his mind, so my intimidation became very convincing.

I left a director and ordered him to broadcast the footage of me hiding in the cart through the television system, and let the others handcuff themselves to a few corners of the house.

While the conductor was grinding, the security guards and armed police in the building had already arrived at the door; I've been prepared for this.

I unbuttoned my coat and revealed the fake bomb I had strapped to my body in front of the surveillance probe in the house, and took out a sign that read "I'll detonate it when you break down the door" and showed it to them.

After that, less than ten seconds later, the drum noise outside the door fell silent, and the director also stopped procrastinating with my kind reminder.

The images I brought with me finally began to be broadcast, and the images I had been framed, the evidence and materials I had collected about the dark side of this society, were broadcast in the form of videos or pictures; At the same time, the files were posted online, on my social accounts, everywhere I could.

Ten minutes later, the negotiator arrived, and he spoke through the intercom equipment in the studio and me.

He's an expert, a veteran, and a very professional, but it's a pity that I'm too, and I'll do that, with all due respect...... I'm much meaner than he is.

He followed the process, first trying to gain my trust, and I didn't mean to stop him; I pretended to follow his rhythm, pretended to trust him, and then we got to the stage where I complained and made demands, and he pretended to be empathetic to persuade me and negotiate terms with me.

I told him all about my experience and the purpose of the operation, and I was telling the truth, and I was very sincere, and I pretended to be about to cry.

He didn't fully cater to me, he didn't completely deny me, he just held me steady and continued to lead the conversation, wanting me to release the female employees in the room first.

Of course, it was not possible for me to hand over real hostages just to show my gentlemanly demeanor or humanitarianism, and I also made a request: I asked them to "hand over the people who framed me".

They won't hand it over, I know, because that's impossible.

Unless I'm kidnapping people of the same rank or higher than those who framed me, or kidnapping their relatives directly, they will never consider such an offer.

In fact, at this moment, I have a clear idea of what is going on outside.

Long before the negotiator and I started the game, the outside had already begun to prepare for a strong attack, and the video I let the director broadcast was broadcast for about 15 minutes, and its signal had been blocked by the outside world.

The so-called negotiations I'm working on are just a means for the negotiators to buy time for the attackers to rush in when the time comes.

In other words, if I can win it, I will release it, and if I can't win it, I will release it, and even if there are real casualties, the truth and details of the incident will be written, announced, and determined by them.

They can say that I brutally killed all the hostages before the storm, even if all the "weapons" I brought this time were either toys or fakes, it didn't matter, the "evidence" could be forged anyway.

The images and materials I disseminate will be cleaned up in less than a week, as long as a few typical people who dare to spread these are arrested for a year and a half, and cooperate with the "official rumors", people will soon stop spreading the behavior, because when their own safety is really involved, keyboard warriors often return to a considerable degree of sanity; Then, the official water army will drive public opinion, solidify the concept that these materials are "all false", spray anyone who disagrees until they can no longer make a sound, and finally, go to the entertainment industry to find a heavyweight melon or engage in some hate news with neighboring countries, and the people will immediately forget about me.

I know all of the above.

Hearing this, you must ask, since I know that I am doomed, what is the point of me doing this?

Oh, you'll know after I hear it.

At dawn, after a lot of haggling, I finally reached a "consensus" with the negotiators, and I promised to release all the hostages on the condition that I first tell my story on live TV.

They gladly accepted, because they knew that the broadcast signal would not be sent at all - if I had released the hostages as agreed, that would have been the best, and if I hadn't, they would have stopped wasting any more time.

Then, like a news anchor, I went to the stage in the middle of the studio and started talking.

My story, which is what you're listening to at the moment, starts with "My name is Li Xiaofan, I'm 26 years old, and I'm an investigative journalist."

Looks like it's almost coming to an end, right?

There's one more thing I don't want to tell you, though.

In fact...... This isn't the first time I've infiltrated the station illegally.

I was here in the early hours of yesterday morning, and of course, at that time, I didn't make such a big fuss as I am now; I just, disguised myself as a maintenance worker, and installed some additional signaling devices in the building's ventilation system, as well as some hidden, long-range cameras.

So, today, my entire operation, from the very beginning, was filmed by the equipment that I had installed myself, bypassing the station's own broadcast system, with the help of your towers, and broadcasting it live.

The materials that I let the director broadcast through the studio's system are both introductions and covers, and they are not that important.

What matters is my every move, your conversations with me, every word you have discussed outside the house behind my back, including the way to deal with it afterwards and the names of the people who framed me...... I don't really know who they are, but I think you've figured it out and discussed it, haven't you? Hehe...... In short, those who have and don't, as well as the story I'm talking about now, have been live-streamed.

…………

I have a dream—a dream that is not so realistic and self-interested.

I want to be a pair of eyes, a pair of ears, a mouthpiece...... Show the people of the world what they can't see or hear, but which they should look and hear.

I want those who have given up thinking and introspection to regain the habit of reflection and the courage to question.

I will do whatever it takes to achieve this ideal and carry out my justice, even if it is ...... That's a vile justice.

As I flew out of the building, the words rang in my head again.

Although I wasn't big enough to break through the building's façade glass, the bullets that pierced my body clearly helped me.

I thought that people who fell from a height died instantly, but this does not seem to be absolute.

It was a sunny morning, warm and comfortable.

I lay in the open space outside the TV gate, in a pool of my own blood, letting the warm sunlight shine on my face and body, as if it could heal the gunshot wound in my chest.

Is this the end? Or ...... Just the beginning?