A circular table came into view. The floating light screen projected by the hologram was filled with densely packed words. A man in a gray-blue uniform stood in front of the screen and, without turning his head, said to Blake White, “Sit.”

Blake White glanced around the room, pulled a wheeled chair from under the circular table, and sat down.

The man turned to look at Blake White and said, “You’ve worked hard. I’m approving three days off for you. You don’t need to go to the training room during these three days.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Blake White said.

It seemed that the man before her was her direct superior, Captain Eric Shaw of the Seventh Squad. For now, he appeared to be a considerate leader—he even took the initiative to grant her leave.

“No need to thank me. Not protecting my team members well is partly my responsibility,” Eric Shaw said, rubbing his brow. “Before you go back to rest, you need to go to the criminal investigation unit to give a statement and describe the details of your attack.”

Here it comes. Blake White grew nervous, her palms slightly damp.

As a transmigrator, not inheriting any of the original body’s memories was a huge risk—she truly knew nothing.

Before entering the Second World, she was worried about living expenses. After entering the Second World, her anxieties changed completely—now, she had to think about survival.

“Captain… I…” Blake White hesitated.

“What is it?” Eric Shaw looked at her patiently.

“I don’t remember the attack very clearly,” Blake White said sincerely. “It seems like there are a lot of things I can’t recall, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t remember.”

Eric Shaw frowned. “Then what do you remember?”

“I remember my identity—I’m a probationary security officer in the Seventh Squad.” Blake White carefully observed Eric Shaw’s expression.

Sure enough, Eric Shaw’s frown deepened.

He glanced at Blake White and said, “Adam, help me contact the medical office and have them send a doctor over to examine Blake White.”

A cold mechanical voice sounded: “Your instructions have been relayed.”

Adam? That cold mechanical voice belonged to Adam?

Is Adam the name of a super artificial intelligence?

Blake White sat in the chair while Eric Shaw silently observed her and asked, “You really don’t remember anything?”

“I really don’t,” Blake White shook her head. “What exactly happened?”

“Only you know what happened,” Eric Shaw tapped the table. “You caught up with the suspect who was planting explosives at the port, but when we arrived, you were lying on the ground, head bleeding, and the suspect had escaped.”

He said in a serious tone, “Blake White, we need you to remember—to recall the suspect’s appearance and features. This is very important for our follow-up actions.”

Blake White looked up and said, “I’ll do my best.”

Adam prompted, “The doctor is already outside the door. Should I let him in?”

“Let him in,” Eric Shaw said.

The metal door opened silently. Blake White’s old acquaintance, Dr. Howard, entered, sweating and pushing medical equipment. “Captain Shaw, what happened? I rushed over right after finishing a surgery.”

“Blake White has amnesia, possibly a sequela from a head injury. Please take a look at her,” Eric Shaw said, turning to Dr. Howard.

Dr. Howard looked at Blake White with some surprise. “Amnesia?”

He quickly took out something that looked like a scanner and placed it on Blake White’s head. A pale blue beam scanned her from head to toe.

Dr. Howard took out a monitor and muttered as he looked at the data, “Anesthetic might cause temporary amnesia, but the problem clearly isn’t there. A rough check doesn’t show anything. Officer Blake White will probably need to come with me to the medical center for a thorough and comprehensive examination.”

“Alright, let’s go now,” Eric Shaw said.

“Come on, Blake White.” Dr. Howard nodded at Blake White.

Blake White stood up from the chair. “Sorry to trouble you, Doctor.”

“No trouble at all, it’s my duty,” Dr. Howard said. “Captain Shaw, I’ll report to you as soon as I have the results.”

Blake White said nothing as she followed Dr. Howard down the corridor. Dr. Howard, ever the chatterbox, rambled on: “There were quite a few casualties in the port bombing case. Several people had mechanical limb transplants, and a few others had bionic organs replaced. I’ve done five or six surgeries today alone—haven’t even closed my eyes.”

“Blake White, you’re one of the lucky ones,” Dr. Howard sighed. “Some couldn’t be saved. You’re so young—thank goodness you pulled through. Sigh, when will the gangs in Black Sea City finally be wiped out? Every other day there’s some new incident. This time they even tried to blow up the city’s economic lifeline—the port.”

This Dr. Howard really knows how to put on an act… If Blake White didn’t know he was a double agent, she’d think this kindly, compassionate doctor was truly dedicated and concerned for the country and its people.

He was intentionally or unintentionally revealing some things to Blake White, and she took it all in, committing it to memory.

If this were a game, every word of an NPC’s hint could be crucial to clearing it.

After arriving at the medical room, Dr. Howard pressed a button on his wristwatch, and the lights in the room immediately dimmed.