Chapter 236: Provocation

“You usually dress so plainly,” Panpan said, sucking on the small wooden spoon from her coffee cup. “A ponytail, black-framed glasses… I almost didn’t recognize you the other day when you changed your clothes.”

Cheng Yongxin’s deliberate effort to dress up today was precisely for this comment.

She feigned a moment of serious thought, then replied with a half-smile:

“Ever since Salina was nearly raped, and no one was punished for it, I’ve felt it’s safer to make myself a little uglier.”

Panpan nearly choked.

The case of the attempted rape of the female agent Salina was no secret among the powerful transmigrators, especially not to Ding Ding and his wife, who were already heads of the propaganda department at the time.

Back then, because Salina and her group had not yet been granted full transmigrator status, and due to the tendency to protect “one of our own,” the matter was hastily resolved in the name of maintaining stability. The few perpetrators were transferred far away, and Salina was placed under the direct protection of the powerful departments.

But clearly, for women, the shadow of this incident loomed much larger. Although Panpan had tacitly accepted this reality at the time, she always felt a sense of injustice whenever she thought about it. This emotion was now stirred up again by Cheng Yongxin’s words.

“You’re right! If we throw away all the morals of the old world as soon as we arrive in this new one, what’s the difference between us and beasts? Besides, if a special exception is made for something that should be a bottom line, will all future cases be handled the same way? The Commonwealth might as well just declare rape legal!”

Panpan’s emotions flared up. A barely perceptible smile flickered across Cheng Yongxin’s lips: foreign girls were indeed simple-minded; a few words were enough to provoke them. In her view, the Salina incident was perfect. Salina was not only a young woman but also a white American, just like Panpan. They shared a natural, common identity.

The phrase “empathy” was not just empty words.

She judged that in this Commonwealth group, which openly listed the purchase of white female slaves as a government project and blatantly promoted “living space,” the underlying dual discrimination of gender and race was a constant pressure for modern white women. Panpan would definitely feel it. She just needed to guide it moderately to provoke her “self-defense” emotions and use them.

“Alas, that…” Cheng Yongxin deliberately put on a helpless expression. “Salina was an agent investigating the Commonwealth at the time. It was just her bad luck to be targeted by the transmigrators and suffer for it. I’m just thinking, back then, the interests of a ‘non-companion’ could be sacrificed for the greater good of ‘maintaining stability.’ What about in the future?”

Panpan nodded silently. In an instant, she understood the unspoken second half of Cheng Yongxin’s sentence.

The next time the interests of the few clash with the interests of the many, or with the interests of those in power, who will be the next to be sacrificed?

The fact that Salina’s case could be so easily swept under the rug indicated a dangerous trend within the group: their moral bottom line had lowered.

In this world where everyone was racing to the bottom, whoever showed a shred of humanity could claim the mantle of “righteousness.”

Since D-Day, after having his articles repeatedly rejected, Ding Ding had figured out a certain standard: the Executive Committee wanted the Lingao Daily to mercilessly expose the sores of the Ming Dynasty—to paint the black as black, the gray as black, and even the white as black.

But when it came to the Commonwealth, even if there were parts that required self-criticism, it should be like an emperor’s edict of self-blame, all under the premise that “the rule of the Commonwealth is a salvation.”

Simply put, it was the Chinese version of the “divine right of kings.” The Commonwealth wanted to coat its rule with a layer of “sacred salvation.” Ding Ding understood this, and Panpan was certainly not clueless. The best proof was that Panpan spoke less and less, and gradually stopped asking to go out on news assignments.

Every interview with a naturalized citizen, their stuttering and oddly accented Mandarin, painted a picture of a hell that Panpan could hardly imagine.

Yes, a true hell on earth, where acts considered heinous crimes in the modern world happened openly and without any punishment. The superiors oppressed the inferiors, the strong bullied the weak, all in a naked and matter-of-fact way.

Indescribable suffering, atrocities that were terrifying just to hear about, terrible crimes committed by ordinary people without hesitation for the sake of survival…

For Panpan, being “broke” just meant her salary hadn’t been paid yet, forcing her to fill her stomach at the disgustingly bad pizza place on the corner. The greatest hardship she had ever endured was the food scarcity during the initial landing on D-Day and the military training during the state of alert.

Ironically, the Commonwealth used her profession to destroy her principles, with the goal of pulling many people living in hell back to the human world.

Yes, the human world. This was Panpan’s final compromise with herself: Lingao under the Commonwealth’s rule was certainly not a paradise, but it was at least a place fit for humans. That was why she had chosen to serve the Commonwealth silently.

However, this compromise often made Panpan’s conscience uneasy. The news of the execution a few days ago and Cheng Yongxin’s words today had further expanded the shadow in her heart.

“You know,” Panpan finally spoke, “I’ve always felt that some of the Commonwealth’s practices are improper. But, regardless of the Commonwealth’s motives, objectively speaking, they are leading this world towards a better direction…”

“‘For survival,’ ‘for the majority,’ such excuses create a sense of guiltlessness, making people believe that the evils they create are a ‘necessity.’ The final destination is the Iron Cross group and the gas chambers, things even the Germans are ashamed to mention.”

Cheng Yongxin added another point. She knew well the weight of the Nazis in the political correctness of Europe and America. Implying that the Commonwealth was sliding into the abyss of political incorrectness had a strong psychological suggestive effect on someone in the news industry like Panpan: something must be done immediately.

“You’re right.” Panpan was indeed struck by her words, hitting the deep-seated worries in her heart. In fact, she didn’t need Cheng Yongxin to point it out. For years, she had known what kind of regime the Commonwealth was, and what role she and her boyfriend played in it.

Seeing Panpan’s expression, Cheng Yongxin knew her words had taken effect. She decided to stop there and retreat, letting her think things over.

She began to steer the conversation to lighter topics, but Panpan remained distracted. Cheng Yongxin felt secretly pleased; today’s “operation” was already more than half successful.

Suddenly, as if having made a decision, Panpan spoke up. “Do you know why I was arguing with Ding Ding?”

“I don’t know. That’s your private matter.”

“No, it’s a public matter.” Panpan’s expression was somewhat distorted. “I’m truly disheartened. I never thought he would be like this.” She hesitated for a moment. “You’ll keep a secret, right?”

Cheng Yongxin couldn’t suppress her inner excitement. “Sharing secrets” was a sign of escalating friendship between women.

“Of course,” she nodded solemnly.

“It’s like this…”

The incident began three days ago with a “falling accident” in Bairen City. The deceased was a maid-in-training from the maid school named Lin Xiaoya. At five in the morning, a cleaner found her dead at the foot of a building in the transmigrator residential area. The police immediately secured the scene and conducted a preliminary investigation, determining the cause of death to be a fall. The body was then transported to the forensic center for examination.

Accidents are not uncommon in any society; a fall could be a suicide or an accident. But then the suspicious points emerged. As a “pending assignment” maid, it was impossible for her to enter the transmigrator residential area on her own—she had no pass. The Lingao Garrison’s security for the residential area was very thorough; they would never allow a naturalized citizen without a pass to enter.

“There’s something fishy about this,” Cheng Yongxin said.

“Yes, I think so too. I went to the scene for an interview, wrote an article, and then Ding Ding killed it.”

“Why?” Cheng Yongxin asked with feigned surprise.

“He said this matter couldn’t be reported, that it would easily cause negative consequences in public opinion.” Panpan became agitated again. “I just reported the facts, I didn’t make any speculations at all. Why did it have to be pulled? I argued with him for a long time, but he firmly disagreed. Is the Commonwealth really so afraid of its own guilty conscience?!”

“How is the case being handled now?”

“It’s been transferred to the criminal division of the police headquarters. I told Ding Ding: I’ve already submitted an interview request to the police headquarters, asking to cover the entire process, and when the final official investigation results are out, they must be published. Otherwise, I’m really quitting!”

Cheng Yongxin shook her head. “I can already foresee the result—it will have nothing to do with any transmigrator.”

Panpan fell silent.

“Don’t you know that the Commonwealth’s basic principle when it comes to matters involving transmigrators is to smooth things over?” Cheng Yongxin said sharply. “Even if this case is eventually proven to involve a transmigrator, it will be left unresolved. If that was the case with the Salina incident, who would care about the life of a female slave? Not to mention the great ‘Common Program’ that protects transmigrators from any punishment.”

“This can’t go on like this,” Panpan said involuntarily.

“Yes, it can’t go on like this,” Cheng Yongxin said meaningfully. “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”