Istanbul, Old Town, National Street.
Chris Chen stretched languidly in front of his computer, his eyes fixed on the conversation with Ferrari in the private chat room of the Dark Web, always lingering on that name—Song Heping.
The conversation had already ended, and now all he needed to do was close the window of their private chat, and the data would be erased.
After stretching, Chen moved the mouse and closed the window.
His gaze shifted to another laptop on the desk.
Next to this computer was a large hardware firewall, linked with a black box, Chen's encryption device.
Chen was always very careful.
After all, he had been in this line of work for many years and had long since learned how to stay alive—those in his profession who weren't careful had died.
This meeting was one of the few decisions he had made over the years.
He said this because of the information displayed on the laptop next to him.
He checked and found something wrong with Song Heping's information.
Although he could find that the other party was a retired soldier and even show where he had worked after leaving the military, there were some gaps in his records in Illiguo.
What interested Chen most was the record of Song Heping's military service—it was blank, showing only that he had served for several years at a certain breeding base.
This sparked Chen's interest.
He was of Chinese descent.
He said he was of Chinese descent because he had many nationalities.
Indeed, he had at least seven passports, from Africa to Europe to America, and they were all under real identities.
Which passport to use depended on his needs.
Normally, trading with clients didn't necessitate a face-to-face meeting.
Everything could be negotiated over the network and then finalized with a bank transfer.
But this time was different.
He felt there was something about this Song Heping that greatly interested him.
He rebooted the main computer and used the Tor router to re-enter the Dark Web.
The previous IP and visit path had been completely erased with this reboot, and now his IP was no longer in Europe as previously displayed, but had, after several jumps, arrived in America.
He opened a hidden software, and a login box popped up.
After typing his ID and password, a dialogue box appeared.
This was an encrypted chat room.
Then, Chen picked up his phone and sent an encrypted message.
This message was just a string of jumbled numbers and English codes.
Of course, the recipient would decrypt it.
Soon, the dialog box showed that someone called "Warhead" had entered the chat room.
"What do you need from me?"
"I need you to look up someone's information."
"Who is so important? Is he trying to kill you?"
"No, it's a client."
"A client? Why on earth are you digging into a client's identity? Is he a hostile person in our database?"
"No, I'm just curious. He has a record that's too vague, but I can't find anything on it."
"What record?" Warhead was very curious.
"Service record."
"Then send his name and the related information over, and I'll look into it."
"Wait."
Chen on this side sent over the basic information of Song Heping.
"Give me some time, and I'll get back to you."
Warhead said this and went offline.
Chris Chen stood up, walked to the coffee machine, made himself a cup of coffee, and then walked onto the balcony. He sat down in a chair, watching the bustling crowd on the old streets outside.
Istanbul is a very unique place.
Located precisely at the junction of Europe and Asia, the city is split in two, with one part geographically in Europe and the other in Asia.
Because of its special location, the culture and traditions here clearly retain a unique charm from the fusion of Eastern and Western civilizations.
And because of its unique location, it is a paradise for spies.
Chris never considered himself a spy.