When the 6,300-word document was generated on the encrypted server, Lin Ke was wiping the rhinoceros horn chess scale that would never leave his body with a flannel.
The twenty-eight notches on the edge of the chess scale suddenly buzzed, which was an early warning signal he set in the National Security Bureau's internal database. When he opened the virtual screen, what he saw was the "Trans-Time and Space Threat Assessment Report" that had just passed through the eighteen firewalls.
"The seventh case of space-time aberration confirmed." The first line of the report reads. The familiar energy signature in the attachment made his fingertips shiver - it was the unique time and space ripples of the sniper bullet that disappeared on the streets of Baghdad three years ago.
