The civilization of humans, regardless of time or space, has a recorded history in the history books. Once a society is established, it inevitably becomes entangled in the deep aura of bureaucracy. The vast Resource Star federations, with several habitable planets, are no exception. The expansion into outer space and the large population have only made the bureaucratic aura thicker.
From the Eastwood Grand District Hexi Province capital's second station house, an official mail package embarked on its journey, surrounded by this bureaucratic aura. Before setting off, it went through the stamping of three departments in Hexi Province, back and forth between the aviation and logistics departments, until it was loaded onto a spaceship bound for the Capital Star Circle.
Three months later, the official mail package arrived at the administrative planet of the Capital Star Circle, known as the Highwood place among Federation citizens. It peacefully lay in a clean reorganization box, sitting silently in a corner of a vehicle. After leaving the airport, it traveled for four hours, passing through the elevated road between Qingqing Woods and beautiful constructions, until it reached a government facility outside the capital.
The information receiving and dispatching department of the 17 research institute of the federal government signed the receipt list, and the package was then classified and put on the automatic document transport tape. With the sound of the machine, it numbly wrapped through the wall band channel and entered a brightly lit office.
A deputy director in the department noticed the package on the table. Curiously pushing his glasses, he looked at the unfamiliar address and furrowed his brow, deep in thought. The handwriting seemed somewhat familiar, as if written by an ally from a distant place.
"This old dried fish has been stuck in a place where no birds defecate for more than ten years, and now it finally gets some action," the deputy director thought to himself. Three months ago, he had received an email from Deputy Director Bao, but he had now forgotten the urgency of the matter.
"Do the exhibits from the police station also need appraisal from the research institute? How much money did Eastwood spend to send this? This kid doesn't fear investigation by the committee and claims that we're wasting taxpayer money..." The deputy director shook his head, feeling a headache coming on, and placed the subpoena on his desk.
A middle-aged researcher wearing silver-rimmed glasses approached. He had gray hair and had evidently spent quite a long time at the 17 research institute. This middle-aged researcher respectfully looked at the deputy director and asked, "Director, what can I help you with?"
"Um... we have an exhibit sent by the Eastwood police headquarters, and the appraisal application is in the package. Can you take a look at it in the laboratory?" the deputy director casually said.
The middle-aged researcher glanced at the official mail package, realizing that it was not from the Eastwood police headquarters but from the Hexi Province second station house. He immediately understood that, based on the rank of a state station house, it would be difficult to qualify for an appraisal from the 17 research institute. It seemed that this was a personal request, but since the deputy director had received it through official channels, he naturally didn't ask any further questions.
"What aspects should we appraise?" the middle-aged researcher took off his glasses and looked at the mail package attentively, asking for instructions. "Is there a deadline?"
"No," the deputy director waved his hand, thinking about the contents of the mail. He said, "Mainly compare the production process and see if there are any connections... People from Eastwood's rural areas are concerned about this thing being leaked from the military or secret service."
The middle-aged researcher smiled but didn't say anything. He turned and left the room.
The next day, he returned to the office and reported the appraisal result to the director. "The core material's code suggests that it didn't come from the military, but the production process does have some relation to the army. It's likely a replica made by the Bermuda side," he said.
"Okay," the director asked, "Anything strange?"
"No."
...
...
Deputy Director Bao, unwilling to let the appraisal request go to waste, pursued the matter further. After receiving the official reply from the 17 research institute, he still couldn't confirm whether the figure that night was indeed a federal special agent.
But the metal electric shock stick that was appraised, along with the package and appraisal application, was packaged together and placed in the enormous underground storage rooms of the 17 research institute. Its historical mission seemed to have come to an end at that moment. According to federal regulations regarding exhibits, if there were no major surprises, it would spend its life peacefully, stored in the vast, dark, cool, and lonely warehouse, unable to go out again until it was gradually forgotten.
Days passed, and so did weeks. Months turned into years. It silently observed its surroundings, alongside other exhibits with a similar destiny. It didn't know how many years it would have to stay here, but thanks to the excellent dust removal measures taken by the federal department, it wasn't concerned about being covered in the dust of history or trapped in irritating spiderwebs.
The river of time flowed quietly, taking two steps forward, reaching the 65th year of the constitution. Two years had passed since the electric shock stick had arrived at the Capital Star Circle's 17 research institute when a pair of thin hands suddenly picked it up.
Chen River, a recent graduate of Highwood University, had just joined the federal recruitment and entered the 17 research institute, where he was assigned to manage the storage warehouse. As a new recruit, he still had the enthusiasm and hadn't been corroded by the stale bureaucracy. He maintained his curiosity for things.
After spending 40 days in storage, conducting the arrangement of exhibits, he noticed the transparent vacuum bag and the metal rod inside it. "To hide an electric shock stick in a crystal screen, that's interesting," Chen River murmured. Intrigued, he decided to do some research on the exhibit. He thought it was fascinating and didn't immediately return it to its designated place.
Through further research, the exhibit came under scrutiny again by the federal agency, which was a normal occurrence. However, no one was willing to take on this odd task that didn't come with overtime pay.
Three days later, filled with joy, Chen River completed a paper and submitted it to the research institute's website. The paper's topic was titled "Exhibit Serial Number: AW3278 Structural Features," and it naturally sank to the bottom without garnering much attention.
...
...
In a specially peaceful area of the federal administrative capital, there was a department with the highest level of security. On the flat roof of this department, one could see the administrative residence building and the central management committee building of the capital from afar. However, the staff in black suits rushing about never cast envious glances in that direction.
They were the staff of the Charter Bureau, carrying out the most honorable mission in federal society.
In the core area of the building, in a spacious room, two-dimensional information was displayed on the light screen, flashing rapidly. This was the most state-of-the-art computational search ability of human civilization. The pictures on the screen changed at a staggering speed, too fast for the naked eye to perceive, except for the central control computer that was executing the computational search.
Countless data streams from across federal society were selected for analysis here—struggles among various political parties, potential rebellions, and various peaks of information. However, currently, the most crucial information resided in the Westwood Area, and no one knew if the Empire would launch another war.
Suddenly, the picture on the light screen slowed down and stopped on a particular drawing—a screenshot of a small paper written by some researchers. Then, the display showed the deposit location of the exhibit with the serial number AW3278.
A warning began to resonate in the Charter Bureau, the sternest institution in federal society.