It was a sunny morning, warm and comfortable.

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

Is this the end? Or... it's just the beginning?

…………

I sneaked into the TV station building in the early morning, and it was not difficult to get in. After all, I know very well what they are inside.

In the past six months, I have dealt with many people, including many colleagues working on TV stations, from celebrities to coal miners.

Some of this kind of communication is a bit true, while others are purely acts, but no matter which one, it does not prevent me from getting information.

People are very willing to share "non-own privacy" with others. The difference is that they have different tendencies when sharing. For example, women prefer gossip, while men prefer to complain about fucking things at work.

For most people, as long as it is not their own secret, it is not a secret.

Take a taxi driver as an example. If you meet a chatty driver who actively talks to you, unless you know how to chat, you can easily ask a lot of things about his work and even his family in the conversation.

There are also barbers who like to chat, elderly people who receive physical therapy in the hospital, guys sitting next to you in the sauna, guys standing in front of you or behind you while queuing in the amusement park, etc. As long as you have certain social skills, any stranger who needs to stay with you for some reason can become your source of intelligence, and the easiest intelligence to be trapped is about some trivial matters at their work.

Make up a few lies that are not easy to expose and no one will delve into, making people feel that you resonate with him/her; say a few words to praise the other person from time to time; make a certain reaction to each other's words, and the content of the reaction is mainly based on different degrees of surprise and a "I am very interested" expression, so that... you can make the other person quickly open up the conversation.

After you become proficient, with some sincere expressions and tone, the whole process will be very natural. If there is wine on site, things will be easier to do.

Through this method, I have gained a lot of "internal news" that outsiders don't know at dinner parties; although in the eyes of those leakers, it is all insignificant, such as "the cleaners of the TV station usually go through another employee channel", "the time and approximate number of people for night shift security guards", "the situation of on-duty personnel from late night to early morning" and so on.

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

The long-term stability made the security here very relaxed. I wore a cleaner uniform that I could buy at a small roadside shop. I got a door card from the lounge, and then pushed a cart that looked full of cleaning supplies and went to the floor I wanted to go smoothly.

I came to a studio, took out a toy gun with only sounds and shot it at the ceiling, and immediately controlled the scene.

This is just a local radio station, and there are not many people on duty in the early morning; after blocking the only exit, I took out a few pairs of handcuffs I bought from an adult product store and threw them to the people present... These people have good jobs, so they all cherish their lives, and some of them quickly recognized me. They knew that I was a guy who was already disgraced and might be crazy, so my threat became very convincing.

I left a director and ordered him to play the videos I had hidden in the cart through the TV station system, and let others handcuff themselves to several corners of the house.

Just as the director was slowing down, the security guards and armed police in the building had already arrived outside the door; I was prepared for this.

I untied my coat, exposed the fake bomb tied to my body in front of the surveillance probe in the house, and took out a sign saying "I will detonate if you break the door" and showed it to them.

In less than ten seconds after that, the noise outside the door quieted down, and the director also stopped procrastinating with my kind reminder.

The images I brought finally started to play, the images I was framed, the evidence and information I collected about the dark side of this society were broadcast in the form of videos or pictures; at the same time, these documents were also uploaded to the Internet, to my social accounts, and to all places I could.

Ten minutes later, the negotiating expert came and he made a call with me through the studio intercom equipment.

He is an expert, veteran, very professional, but unfortunately I am the same. I know his skills, and I am frankly frankly... I am much despicable than him.

He followed the process and tried to gain my trust first, but I had no intention of stopping him; I pretended to follow his rhythm and pretended to trust him, and then we entered the stage of "I complained and made requests, and he pretended to be empathetic and persuaded me while negotiating conditions with me."

I told him all about my experience and the purpose of this action. I told the truth, and acted very sincerely, pretending to be almost crying.

He did not fully cater to me, nor did he completely deny me, but just stabilized me and continued to lead the conversation, hoping that I would release the female employees in the house first.

Of course, I cannot hand over real hostages just to demonstrate my gentlemanly demeanor or humanitarian spirit. I also made a request: I asked them to "hand over the people who framed me."

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

Unless I am kidnapping people at the same level as those who framed me or even higher, or directly kidnapped their relatives, they will never consider this proposal.

In fact, at this moment, I know the situation outside clearly.

Long before this negotiating expert started a game with me, the outside world had already started preparing for strong attacks. The videos I asked the director to broadcast for about fifteen minutes, and the signal was blocked by the outside world.

The so-called negotiation I am currently in is just a means for negotiating experts to buy time for those combatants responsible for the strong attack. Once the time is ripe, they will rush in.

In other words, if I can win me, I will let me go, and if I can't win, I will be tough. Even if there are casualties, the truth and details of the incident will be written, announced and determined by them.

They can completely say that I had brutally killed all hostages before the strong attack. Even if all the "weapons" I brought this time were either toys or fakes, it didn't matter. Anyway, the "evidence" could be forged.

The images and information I spread will be cleaned up within a week. As long as I catch a few typical examples who dare to spread these for a year or two, and cooperate with the "official rumors to refute", people will soon stop spreading, because when it is really involved in their own safety, keyboard warriors will often regain a considerable degree of rationality; then, the official navy will drive public opinion, confirm the idea that these materials are "all false", and spray anyone who opposes the opinions until they can no longer make any sound. Finally, go to the entertainment industry to find a heavyweight melon or make some hate news with neighboring countries, and the people will immediately forget me.

I know all of the above.

When you hear this, you will definitely ask, since you know that you will be destined to fail, what's the point of doing this?

Haha, you will know after listening to me.

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

They accepted it happily because they knew that the broadcast signal could not be sent out at all - if I released the hostages as agreed, it would be best if I did not, they would no longer waste their time.

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

My story is what you are listening to at the moment, starting with "My name is Li Xiaofan, I am 26 years old, and I am an investigative reporter". It has developed to this point, and I am sitting in front of the camera and telling you all this.

It seems that this is almost over, right?

However, I have one more thing I haven't told you.

Actually... this is not the first time I have illegally sneaked into this TV station.

I came here early yesterday morning, of course, at that time, I didn't make such a big noise; I just disguised myself as a repairman and installed some additional sending devices in the ventilation system of the building, as well as some hidden cameras with long-distance radio function.

Therefore, today, my entire operation was filmed by the equipment I installed myself from the beginning, bypassing the TV station's own broadcast system, and using your launch tower to broadcast it live.

The materials I asked the director to broadcast through the studio system are both introductions and pretensions, and are not that important.

What’s important is that my every move, the conversation between you and me, and you are outside the house, carrying every sentence I discussed, including the way I handled it afterwards, and the names of the people who framed me... Although I actually don’t know who they are, I think you have found it and discussed it, right? Haha... In short, those who have nothing, and the story I’ve told have been broadcast live.

…………

I, Li Xiaofan, have a dream - a less realistic and selfish dream.

I want to be a pair of eyes, ears, mouthpieces... to show people in the world what they cannot see or hear, but should go and see and listen to.

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

I will use any means to realize this ideal and implement my justice, even if... it is a kind of despicable justice.

When I flew out of the building, this sentence echoed in my mind again.

Although my body wasn't enough to break through the exterior glass of the building, the bullets that shot through my body obviously helped me.

I thought the person who fell from a high place died instantly, but this seemed to be absolute.

It was a sunny morning, warm and comfortable.

I lay in the open space outside the TV station gate, in my pool of blood, letting the warm sunlight sprinkle on my face, as if it could heal the gunshot wound on my chest.
Chapter completed!