The top-floor office of Shanghai Tower, once a symbol from which Mozi surveyed the financial world and strategized, now felt like a transparent cage. Beyond the glass curtain wall, the Oriental Pearl Tower and the dense forest of skyscrapers in Lujiazui still glittered with a cold, hard light under the thin winter sun, the Huangpu River winding like a gray-blue ribbon—the entire city operated with an almost indifferent normality, seemingly completely unaware of an unprecedented storm targeting the occupant of this office was escalating sharply. Mozi stood before the window, his back straight, but the intangible pressure filling the air had nearly solidified into substance, heavy enough to suffocate.
Sanctions and blockades were strangulation on economic and technological fronts, but what assaulted now was a more direct, more ferocious "unrestricted warfare" aimed at utterly destroying him personally and spiritually dismantling the banner of String Light. This war no longer confined itself to markets and laboratories; it had spread to the two more complex and shadowy battlefields of law and public opinion.
First came an extremely harsh formal letter transmitted through diplomatic channels, sent by the Justice Department of the leading Western nation imposing sanctions, with attachments hundreds of pages thick. Citing "suspicion of utilizing illegally obtained cutting-edge technological information for transnational financial manipulation, endangering other nations' economic security, and possible involvement in technological espionage"—vague and malicious charges almost impossible to disprove—it formally made a "request for judicial assistance" to China, with the core demand: **extradition of Mozi** to that country for "comprehensive and fair investigation." The letter listed so-called "preliminary evidence," mostly meticulously edited and misleadingly interpreted financial transaction records, snippets of public statements from technical forums, even including some early cases where "String Light Cloud Brain" (not yet called "Oracle") objectively impacted certain traditional energy giants while optimizing global resource allocation—all twisted into evidence of "malicious market manipulation."
Extradition. The word pierced through all previous commercial and technological confrontations like an icy bullet. It meant the other side was no longer content with economically and technologically encircling String Light; they were attempting to employ state judicial violence to directly deprive him of personal liberty, placing him in an environment where law and rules were completely controlled by the adversary. Should it succeed, the consequences were unimaginable. It would not only be a personal disaster for him, but a heavy blow to String Light Research Institute, and indeed the entire momentum of China's technological rise. This was nothing less than a politically motivated kidnapping wrapped in legal garb.
Almost simultaneous with this extradition request, a meticulously orchestrated, unprecedented global public opinion warfare surged like a breached flood, instantly inundating major mainstream media, social media platforms, and think tank reports. A unified narrative was rapidly established—"Mozi: The Dark Tech Overlord Attempting to Control the World's Technology."
Lengthy articles filled with innuendo and inflammatory rhetoric were published in influential international newspapers and news websites, often accompanied by photos of Mozi in contemplative or speaking poses taken from angles that made him appear sinister and aggressive. The articles no longer merely mentioned technological monopoly and national security, but began systematically constructing a conspiracy-laden narrative framework: portraying Mozi as a dangerous figure with almost cult-leader-like charisma, using his inscrutable financial capital combined with transcendent technology of questionable origin (hinting at improper acquisition or from uncontrollable AI like "Oracle") to weave a vast network aiming to control global information infrastructure, key industrial lifelines, and even the future direction of technological development. He depicted Yue'er's mathematical theories as "dangerous attempts to redefine physical laws," Xiuxiu's lithography breakthrough as "tools for constructing a technological iron curtain," while "String Light Cloud Brain" and "Oracle" were directly labeled as "the prelude to a digital tyranny surveilling and controlling all humanity."
On social media, massive bot accounts and hired online trolls began mass-producing and disseminating simplified, highly inflammatory hashtags and short videos. Hashtags like #StopMozi, #TechDictatorship, #BanStringLight, with specific forces fanning the flames, briefly topped trend lists in multiple countries. Short videos took Mozi's past statements out of context, shaping him into a tech-crazed megalomaniac contemptuous of the existing international order. Some so-called "former employees" anonymously "leaked" descriptions of String Light Research Institute's internal "oppressive, authoritarian, opaque decision-making culture"; some bought-off "experts" confidently analyzed the "potential threat" of Mozi and his team in televised interviews, even comparing him to famous dictators and conspirators in history.
The deluge of sewage aimed to thoroughly vilify him morally and image-wise, isolating him from international society and even ordinary public perception. The iron fist of legal warfare combined with the smears of public opinion warfare formed a classic combination in modern unrestricted warfare: on one hand, applying extreme pressure through judicial means to physically eliminate the opponent; on the other, manipulating public opinion to destroy the opponent's social credibility and moral legitimacy, leaving them isolated and helpless.
Mozi's chief legal counsel team, composed of top domestic and international experts in international law and criminal law, after receiving the extradition request documents, conducted dozens of hours of intense legal analysis and scenario planning, reaching a bleak conclusion. Although China firmly opposed such long-arm jurisdiction and politicized judicial operations, making actual extradition highly unlikely, the process itself would consume enormous legal, diplomatic, and political resources, and act like heavy shackles, long restricting Mozi's movements, making him an international "focus," with any cross-border travel potentially facing unforeseeable risks.
The public relations team, confronting the tsunami of public opinion, seemed powerless. Against the adversary's organized, premeditated offensive wielding powerful international discourse dominance, routine clarifications, statements, factual rebuttals were minimally effective—voices often drowned by larger negative waves as soon as they emerged. Truth often appeared pale and sluggish against meticulously woven lies.
Yet, at the very eye of this storm, enduring the dual extreme pressures of law and public opinion, Mozi, after initial shock and anger, sank into an unusually profound calm. In his office, he dismissed all advisors and team members, remaining alone. He did not browse the online filth, nor repeatedly study the malicious extradition letter. He simply stood quietly, gazing at the city skyline beyond the window—so familiar, yet now feeling somewhat alien.
Pressure squeezed from all sides like deep-sea water pressure, attempting to crush him. But strangely, when pressure reached a certain threshold, an effect akin to "things turning into their opposites" began manifesting. All distractions—fear, grievance, anger—seemed filtered away by this extreme pressure, leaving behind an almost pure, icy rationality. His mind operated at unprecedented speed, analyzing the situation, simulating various possibilities.
The adversary's resort to such extreme measures precisely indicated they perceived genuine threat; it showed the technological path and development model represented by String Light had touched the foundation sustaining their advantage. This, in turn, validated the value of their past efforts. Legal and public opinion warfare, though perilous, were essentially games "within the rules," albeit with the adversary arbitrarily distorting those rules. As long as he stood on this land, as long as the backing national power remained firm, the worst outcome—physical capture—could likely be avoided.
But he had to prepare for "the worst." Not pessimism, but responsibility. The String Light enterprise, Yue'er's mathematics, Xiuxiu's engineering, and the unpredictable future of "Oracle"... these mattered far more than his personal fate. He could not allow any interruption or demise of all this due to his own unexpected circumstances.
It was time. He must ensure that, regardless of what happened, the torch of knowledge could be passed on, the enterprise could find a path of continuation.
He activated the ultimate encrypted communication protocol known only to him, Yue'er, and Xiuxiu—based on one-time pad and quantum random number generation. This was not video nor voice, but pure text; the underlying key would self-destruct the moment the message was sent, ensuring absolute secrecy and untraceability.
He sent a brief meeting request, attaching the agreed highest emergency level identifier.
Several hours later, in the already-prepared safe house in the suburbs, equipped with full electromagnetic shielding and physical isolation capabilities, the trio reconvened. The atmosphere was graver than last time. Yue'er's face bore a trace of worry not fully concealed; Xiuxiu's eyes burned with angry flames.
"They actually want to extradite you?! This is madness!" Xiuxiu lowered her voice, but fury nearly erupted within her words.
Yue'er remained silent, just quietly watching Mozi, waiting for him to speak. She sensed a different aura about Mozi, a resolute calm.
Mozi wasted no time on pleasantries, directly reporting the latest on the extradition request and global smear campaign, his tone matter-of-fact as if discussing something unrelated to himself.
"This is the situation. Legally, we are confident in responding, but the process will be extremely arduous. In public opinion, we are currently at an absolute disadvantage." He paused, gaze sweeping over the two, exceptionally clear and firm. "Thus, we must prepare for the worst."
"The worst..." Xiuxiu's voice trembled slightly.
"Yes." Mozi nodded. "The worst-case scenario is that I am forced to temporarily leave command, or my movements become severely restricted, or... I lose the ability to directly lead."
A deathly silence filled the safe house.
"So today, we need to establish contingency plans." Mozi's voice was low yet powerful. "First, knowledge transmission. Yue'er, all your research manuscripts, unpublished papers, core mathematical conceptions must undergo multiple backups, encrypted and stored across different physical locations and secure digital spaces. Designate academic successors you fully trust with sufficient comprehension to ensure your theoretical system does not get interrupted by any accident."
Yue'er gazed at Mozi, then slowly, solemnly nodded. "I understand. I am already organizing. I will ensure that, even if I am absent, the exploration of mathematics will not cease."
"Second, technological continuity. Xiuxiu," Mozi looked at Xiuxiu, "all core technical documentation, process parameters, supply chain alternative plans, the complete roadmap of the 'Root Technology Traceability Plan' likewise require highest-level protection and backup. Designate your technical successors to ensure R&D and industrialization processes remain unaffected. Especially hardware interfacing and maintenance with 'Oracle' must be flawless."
Xiuxiu pressed her lips tightly, a glimmer of tears flashing in her eyes, soon replaced by determination. "Rest assured! The technology is in our minds, and in our servers. No one can take it away! I will arrange everything, guarantee the machines keep running!"
"Third, the enterprise as a whole." Mozi finally said, tone carrying the weight of entrustment. "If our iron triangle... undergoes structural change due to my situation. The future of String Light Research Institute needs a new, reliable core leadership to coordinate. I will designate an interim collective decision-making mechanism internally, and if necessary, transfer final decision-making authority to candidates jointly approved by you. We must ensure the String Light banner does not fall."
He placed a thin, unmarked metal chip on the table. "This is the activation key for contingency plans and preliminary candidate recommendations. Each of you keep a copy."
Yue'er and Xiuxiu silently stored the chips, feeling the tiny objects heavy as mountains.
No excessive words, no sentimental farewells. Under such extreme pressure, all emotional expression seemed superfluous. The three of them, bound together by shared ideals and fate, were now making calm yet brutal preparations for the most severe test their enterprise might face.
"You..." Mozi looked at them, a subtle softness and apology deep in his eyes. "... must protect yourselves. The road ahead may rely more on you now."
"We are all in the same boat." Yue'er said softly, yet with exceptional firmness.
"No one will sink us!" Xiuxiu wiped her eye corner, saying resentfully.
The brief meeting ended. Mozi left the safe house first, plunging back into the storm raging against him. His steps steady, back still straight. Extreme pressure did not break him; instead, it made him see his responsibilities and what he must guard more clearly. Legal warfare, public opinion warfare—bring them on. He was prepared to confront all storms, and had laid paths for the torch to continue even in the darkest hour. This unrestricted warfare was far from over, but he was already fearless.