In the New Continent, the pronunciations for "he" (male) and "she" (female) were distinct—"he" and "she."
Luoshu immediately seized the key point.
"You said she?"
"Yes, she—M██ W█!"
"Marion Wheeler, Director of the Anti-Memetics Division?" Luoshu pressed.
"Correct!"
In truth, Luoshu had already suspected as much.
Who else but that little old lady from the Anti-Memetics Division would know SCP-055 was here?
Who else but Marion Wheeler, who had taken the W-Class Mnestic Enhancers, could have stolen Luoshu's belongings right under SCP-055's nose?
Marion Wheeler's sudden appearance didn't surprise Luoshu at all.
SCP-055 was, after all, under the jurisdiction of the Anti-Memetics Division. It would have been stranger if she hadn't shown up to check on it.
This was entirely Luoshu's fault for not anticipating the risk.
The problem was, Marion Wheeler had vanished for months, fading from memory like an antimeme herself.
And that was no exaggeration. After prolonged exposure to antimemes, she had developed antimemetic properties.
Even Luoshu—let alone her direct superior, O5-8—could forget about her and the entire Anti-Memetics Division entirely.
Had he not used the Enhanced Memory ability just now, Luoshu might not have even understood SCP-055's cryptic hint.
The only thing that puzzled him was—why hadn't SCP-055 resisted?
Why let that little old lady take his things without a fight?
As friends, they should be frank with each other. Luoshu cut to the chase:
"Why didn't you stop her?"
"Couldn't! I'm just S█ M█ Z█, no Z█ D█ L█."
Well, that was incomprehensible.
But Luoshu trusted one thing: as an Anomalous Friend, SCP-055 wouldn't lie to him.
So he dropped the subject and activated Thousand-Mile Tracking, targeting Marion Wheeler.
The target was much closer than expected—barely 200 meters above him.
Accounting for Site-19's underground depth, Marion Wheeler had to be about 100 meters above ground, roughly the 20th floor.
If memory served, that was around where IR1901's MacDonald Law Firm had been located.
Now that he had her location, Luoshu couldn't afford to waste time. With Unobservable still active, he hurried upstairs.
Site-19's surface structure had two towers: Tower B housed a Foundation-front tech company, while Tower A was a serviced apartment building.
IR1901's law firm had "leased" a suite in the apartment building—though in reality, it was all just Foundation shell companies, like the "Lord's Manor Resort Hotel" at Site-CN-02, serving internal personnel rather than outside clients.
Luoshu vividly remembered his last visit, when he'd rushed to save IR1901 from "God" and ended up in the wrong building.
This time, he double-checked—Marion Wheeler was definitely in Tower A—and avoided repeating that mistake.
Ten minutes later, he stood outside Marion Wheeler's suite.
Through his senses, the little old lady was lying motionless in bed, likely fast asleep.
As for how Luoshu knew her exact position behind the door—he'd taken the precaution of scouting an identical unit downstairs to memorize the layout.
Her being asleep was perfect.
Luoshu wasn't eager for a confrontation.
His plate was already overflowing—"God," Achilles' Heel, Pandora's Box—few could claim to have drawn the Foundation's three most formidable forces simultaneously.
Adding Marion Wheeler—and by extension, the Anti-Memetics Division—to that list might even provoke the Red Right Hand.
Luoshu had always believed in lying low and growing stronger.
But "God" had noticed him far too early. Had he been given six months to quietly fill The SCP Field Guide with 200-300 entries, his abilities—let alone milestone effects—would have been terrifying.
Such was fate—the tree may crave calm, but the wind never ceases.
Pulling out a skeleton key, Luoshu carefully unlocked the door and slipped inside.
Marion Wheeler's suite was a business unit, with the bedroom separate from the living area.
The bedroom door was ajar. Peering in, he confirmed the old woman was still asleep.
Time to retrieve his stolen photos and belongings.
A search of the living room turned up nothing.
He moved to the bedroom.
There, he spotted Marion Wheeler's satchel on the windowside coffee table and began rifling through it.
Within seconds, he found a sealed bag containing his missing items.
Smooth sailing!
...Or was it?
Just as he tiptoed toward the exit, bag in hand, a voice rasped behind him.
"So it was you! I should've known!"
Marion Wheeler's voice.
And the unmistakable click of a safety being disengaged.
This old woman slept with her gun.
Luoshu cursed his luck and scrambled for a solution.
He started to turn slowly—
"Don't move!" she barked. "One more twitch, and I shoot."
She'd seen the footage of Luoshu teleporting behind Big Jack and snapping his neck. She knew exactly how dangerous he was.
Luoshu froze. No neck-snapping teleportation this time.
Plan B: Persuasion.
"It's me—we're on the same side!"
"Hah! I checked with O5-8. He never assigned any 'SCP-055 monitoring specialist' to Site-19!"
Wily old fox.
But Luoshu pressed on. "He forgot me, just like he forgot you. We've both been exposed to antimemes—being forgotten is normal."
"Oh? I almost bought that. But here's the kicker—only O5-8 and I know he forgot me. Not even the other O5s are aware, let alone some junior agent like you!"
Talkative villains dig their own graves.
Luoshu wanted to slap himself.