“Hey, I don’t want any trouble here,” Michael immediately raised his hands with palms open. He was also moving slowly back, but his eyes were staring right into the big man’s eyes. He knew that this was a way to increase trust, by keeping constant eye contact.

“What did you take from me?” The big man’s gun was out now.

“Nothing. You can check for yourself.”

“So you can run away while I’m distracted checking my pockets. Ha ha what a smart thing to do. Hmmm… Let’s see. You must be a mathematician, dressing in this poor and ugly outfit.”

Michael was still moving backwards. He was using his peripheral vision to gauge the distance from the previous street lamp. Ten meters. Thirteen meters. If he remembered correctly, and of course he always did, there should be something there that could help him.

“Stop right there!” The man moved one step closer. “I’m going to ask nicely once more. Before I shoot. What! Did! You! Take!”

“Nothing,” Michael replied with one word. Okay. Now he was standing right under a camera — specifically a camera that was used for tracking illegal car parking in this area. Yes, that was a close shot. A blind spot here. Good. He couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“What are you smiling about, you mathematician?” The man emphasized the word “mathematician” with a tone of disgust like it was some un-profane language.

Michael smiled even broader, “Right above me now is a camera. It has seen everything that happened. It has recorded how you pointed at me with a gun and how you forced me to this corner. So. if you pull the trigger. This is not self defense; this is murder. And I wonder what will happen to your job and your salary…” He trailed off right there, intentionally leading the big man to ask the question.

“How… how did you know?” The man’s hands are shaking right now. His eyes darted up towards the camera and made a brief eye contact with the mechanical lenses.

“If I were you, I would go home to my wife instead of blaming my misfortune on some stranger that bumped into me. You know… The bail nowadays are quite expensive.”

The man’s hands tightened up around the gun then loosened again. The protruding veins on his neck finally fell back. He took one last look at the camera and put the plasma pistol back into his pocket.

“Damn you mathematician. Today’s your lucky day!” he stormed towards Michael’s direction and shoved him out of the way.

Whew, that was close. Michael sighed heavily. It really was a gamble. Who could predict what the big man might do next. He might have been aggravated when Michael mentioned his salary and directly shot him. Or he might have not cared about the camera and shot him anyways. There were all kinds of factors and variables affecting the outcome of this confrontation, yet Michael had predicted every single one of them and played all the cards in his hands to the right extent.

Michael just started walking for a few minutes when a black car pulled up right in front of him. A white eagle — the badge of the government — was printed clearly on the side of the car. Oh, now what. Michael cursed. Criminals disguised as government? There had been far too many incidents when human traffickers vehicles were disguised as the government to force people onto the car. Well, how many enemies was he going to make in one day.

Michael immediately turned left and opened the door of the building. He walked in casually, pretending he was strolling by coincidentally. But as soon as he closed the doors, he scanned the surroundings for half a second and turned off the light switch. It’s an abandoned supermarket. There aren’t any things on the shelves anymore. He flipped over the checkout counter and hid behind it.

There were always some sorts of weapons or defense mechanisms hidden behind the checkout counter for the cashiers to use when facing a robbery. After constant cashier robberies, a new legislation was passed to guarantee the security of cashiers. The logic of the government was always simple: The only way to deal with bad guy with guns was to arm the good guys with guns, Michael groped in the dark for a moment and felt the contours of something long. An electric baton.

He didn’t randomly choose this counter. There was a giant mirror diagonally behind the counter, and Michael’s reflection could be faintly seen. Although there was a potential risk that his location could be pinpointed after they saw the mirror there, it was still more likely for them to lunge at the first target they saw without processing the images detailedly in their head. As soon as they walked past Michael, the electric baton could be put into full use.

Footsteps were approaching. Okay, thirty meters. Twenty meters. Michael’s hands sweated a little as he gripped tighter onto the baton. He could feel a man coming closer and closer. He was ready to swing the baton. He rehearsed this option and twenty-seven other possible options in his head for hundreds of times already.

But the footsteps walked directly past him. Why? Did they not notice the mirror? Or were they searching this building inch by inch? Why would they do that? What would be the point anyways? And what would they want from him? He was neither rich nor powerful. The only thing valuable he possessed was his genius, but what would they need for that. Artificial intelligence could beat him.

What if they were actually the real government? Michael would still be useless. He never took part in politics.

Then suddenly the lights were on. What the… Michael was pretty sure that the footsteps walked past the light switch already.

Multiple flashlights were pointing right at his counter. A booming voice blared in the supermarket speaker, “Michael Livingstone. Please come out behind that counter. And we recommend you to drop the baton in your hand.”

Michael almost swore out aloud.

He stood up slowly and put his hands behind his head. Five SWAT droids had encircled him, and their guns were pointing directly at Michael’s head. Although they were not even half as tall as Michael, but the row of finely polished weapons, the camera below that was staring dead into Michael’s eyes, and the wheels that were pointed directly at him were enough to instill fear. Moreover, multiple SWAT teams were standing behind the droids, their plasma rifles charged and aimed.

Damn it. He was such a bloody fool. Michael was trying hard to resist the urge of slapping himself across the face. How could he not see this! It was so clear that this building was set for ambush. He had missed the most obvious clue.

Why would any building be open at a time like this. And why would the doors be unlocked. Every sensible human being living in this place right now would know to triple deadbolt their doors. Even buildings right after construction would be locked so nobody could sneak in to steal wall paints and wooden planks and steel poles. How could he neglect the fact that the building stood there to welcome him.

Judging from the scale of the ambush, it seemed that they were absolutely certain he would be here and that they were absolutely certain that he would miss the obvious detail.

How? How could they?

A woman dressed in all black walked up. She raised her hand a little and all the droids lowered their guns. Then she held out a small badge. She put her finger on the smooth back side, and then a holographic display of her face and her descriptions appeared under it. Yes. It was a government badge. Only the government had the time, energy, and will to make something so small and intricate and useless.

“Mr. Livingstone. We are with the government, you can trust us.” Her voice was sweet and young. If it wasn’t for her uniforms, Michael would imagine her as… as a princess.

Back to reality! Michael snapped his mode of thought back into forming plans and eliminating each option. So the government wanted to take him. What leverage did he have?

Then he got it. Michael found one last plan. Dangerous. But worth a try.

Then he willingly followed them into the black car. He didn’t resist when they put the blindfold over him. There was only one chance.