Chen Xufeng slowly put the gun back into his pocket and sat down.

“You think you’re already standing on the summit of history, yes?” the Senior Official said tiredly to Song Cheng.

“Justice stands on the summit of history,” Song Cheng said solemnly.

“Indeed, the digital mirror has destroyed us all. But its power to destroy far exceeds this.”

“Yes, it will destroy all evil.”

The Senior Official nodded slowly.

“Then it will destroy all the corruption and immorality that comes short of evil.”

The Senior Official nodded again. “In the end, it will destroy all of human civilization.”

His words made the others take pause. Song Cheng said, “Human civilization has never beheld such a bright future. This battle between good and evil will wash away all its grime.”

“And then?” the Senior Official asked softly.

“And then, the great age of the mirror will arrive. All of humanity will face a mirror in which every action can be perfectly seen and no crime can be hidden. Every sinner will inevitably meet their judgment. It will be an era without darkness, where the sun shines into every crevice. Human society will become as pure as crystal.”

“In other words, society will be dead,” the Senior Official said. He raised his head to look Song Cheng in the eyes.

“Care to explain?” Song Cheng said, with the mocking note of a victor looking at a loser.

“Imagine if DNA never made mistakes, always replicating and inheriting with perfect fidelity. What would life on Earth become?”

While Song Cheng considered this, Bai Bing answered for him. “In that case, life would no longer exist on Earth. The basis of the evolution of life is mutation, caused by mistakes in DNA.”

The Senior Official nodded at Bai Bing. “Society is the same way. Its evolution and vitality is rooted in the myriad urges and desires departing from the morality laid out by the majority. A fish can’t live in perfectly clear water. A society where no one ever makes mistakes in ethics is, in reality, dead.”

“Your attempt to defend your crimes is laughable,” Song Cheng said contemptuously.

“Not completely,” Bai Bing said immediately, surprising the others. He hesitated for a few seconds, as if to steel his resolve. “To be honest, there was another reason I didn’t want to make the mirror simulation software public. I … I don’t much like the idea of a world armed with the digital mirror either.”

“Are you afraid of the light like them?” Song Cheng demanded.

“I’m an ordinary guy. I’m not involved in any shady business, but there are different kinds of the light you’re talking about. If someone beams a searchlight through your bedroom window in the middle of the night, that’s called light pollution…. I’ll give an example. I’ve only been married two years, but I’ve already experienced that … wearying of the aesthetics, so to speak. So I got … uh, involved with a coworker. My wife doesn’t know, of course. Everyone’s lives are good—better this way even I suspect. I wouldn’t be able to live this kind of life in the age of the mirror.”