Masuk..continuation
The Shadow Ledger.
Panni reached for it, her hands trembling. As she opened the first page, she didn't find bank accounts. She found a letter, written in the Architect’s sharp, jagged script.
"To the one who finds this: You have survived the game. Whether you are the Lu or the Panni, you are now the keeper of the lie. The 'Third Twin' was never about blood. It was about the choice. Blood is a suggestion. Power is an act of will."
"He’s mocking us," Panni whispered. "Even from the grave."
"Read the next page," Jinyan said, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of a trap.
Panni turned the page. Her eyes widened. "Jinyan... look at this. The 'Ancestral Clause'... it’s not fo
Chapter 159 Continuation...Two guards emerged, holding Grace. The girl was dressed in a gown of spun silver, her eyes wide and glassy. She looked like a porcelain doll."Grace!" Panni screamed, trying to fight her way through the remaining guards.Grace didn't blink. She didn't move. She looked at her mother as if she were a stranger."She’s been 'Balanced,' Panni," Jian said, his voice cold. "Alistair has a specialist—a man who understands the Panni mind even better than your grandmother. He performed a Tuning. She no longer feels the 'Noise' of your love. She only feels the 'Harmony' of the Vane Estate."Panni stopped fighting. She looked at her daughter—her vibrant, messy, beautiful daughter—and saw the "Silence" that Vera Panni had always wanted. This was the true horror of the Iron Gentry. They didn't want to kill Grace; they wanted to edit her."What did you do to her?" Panni whispered, her heart breaking."I removed the 'Variables,'" Alistair said, walking down the grand stair
[The Gilded Ledger]The air in the bedroom turned sweet and heavy, a sickly floral scent that Panni recognized instantly: Aconite mist. It was a traditional Lu-Sheng sedative, refined by the Vane industrialists into a weapon of compliance. Alistair Vane wasn't interested in a fair fight; he was a man who preferred his "assets" docile and ready for the ledger."Jinyan, the vents!" Panni choked out, pressing a silk pillow over Grace’s nose and mouth.Jinyan moved with the desperate speed of a cornered wolf. He didn't go for the door; he knew the iron shutters had turned this luxury suite into a tomb. Instead, he lunged for the heavy mahogany washstand. With a roar of effort that made the tendons in his neck stand out like bridge cables, he hoisted the marble-topped furniture and hurled it at the floor-to-ceiling windows.The reinforced glass didn't shatter—it groaned. The Vane fortress was built to withstand typhoons and revolutions alike."Again!" Panni screamed, her lungs burning.Jin
"It is a world without war, Panni. A world without poverty, without hunger, without the messy, destructive 'Noise' of human emotion," her mother countered. "Every person in Neo-Pattaya is content. They are perfectly balanced. And all it costs is a little bit of... focus.""And Jinyan?" Panni asked. "What is he to you?""Jinyan is a miracle," the woman said, looking at him with a clinical fascination. "He is the first machine to successfully integrate the 'Sweet Love' protocol without a system crash. He is the bridge between the 'Old World' and the 'New Order'. And Grace... Grace is the Heir.""She’s a child!" Panni screamed."She is a God, Panni. And today, she is going to be inaugurated."Before Panni could react, the walls of the tunnel began to shift. It wasn't magic; it was the Pneumatic Architecture of the city. The tunnel was an elevator, and it was rising at a terrifying speed.The doors opened to reveal the penthouse of the Pendulum Tower. The room was a vast, circular chamber
[The City of Living Dolls]Neo-Pattaya did not look like the world Panni remembered. Gone were the soft, humid mists of the Mekong and the rugged, unpredictable emerald of the jungle. In their place stood a sprawling megalopolis of black basalt and polished brass, a city that looked as though it had been drafted by a watchmaker with the soul of an executioner. The air here was dry and tasted of ozone and expensive cologne, a sterile atmosphere where every street was laid out in a perfect, geometric grid.Panni clutched Grace’s hand, her fingers trembling. The girl, now returned to her seven-year-old form but possessing a silent, haunting stillness, looked up at the towering skyscrapers. Each building was crowned with a rotating "Acoustic Beacon"—massive bronze disks that hummed with a low-frequency vibration, a sound Panni felt in her teeth.Jinyan walked beside them, his collar turned up to hide the faint, silver luminescence that still pulsed beneath the skin of his throat. He looke
[The Porcelain Truth]Panni felt the world stop. The sound of the river, the warmth of the sun, even the weight of Grace’s head against her shoulder—everything became a cruel, sharp-edged lie. She stared at the wooden bird on the sand, its mechanical wings clicking with a rhythmic, mocking precision."The trial phase is complete," the bird repeated, its voice a perfect, hollow imitation of Lady Eleanor.Panni turned her gaze to Jinyan. He was staring at his own hands, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps. Beneath the tan of his skin, beneath the scars of the "Medea Protocol," a faint, iridescent silver glow was pulsing. It wasn't blood; it was a liquid-metal lattice, a "Neural Weave" that mapped his every emotion."Jinyan?" Panni’s voice was a whisper, a pl
[The Heart’s Crescendo]The laboratory was no longer a place of solid matter. Under the sapphire gaze of the transformed Grace, the stone walls were vibrating at such a high frequency they had become translucent, shimmering like the surface of a disturbed pond. The copper tubes had melted into glowing orange ribbons of liquid metal that snaked across the floor, and the "Acoustic Chimney" was howling with the sound of a thousand storms.Panni stood in the center of the chaos, her hand still locked in Jinyan’s. Her wrists were bleeding where the brass cuffs had been torn away, but she didn't feel the pain. She only felt the terrifying, cold beauty of the girl standing before them.Grace was no longer the child in the yellow raincoat. She was a young woman, tall and ethereal, her hair floating in the static-charged air. Her eyes







