Relatis stood with her back to the screen, unaware of what was happening. After hearing the commotion in the restaurant and then seeing the twins’ slack-jawed expressions, a chill suddenly crawled up her spine, and she urgently demanded, "What happened?"

The twins pointed simultaneously at the virtual light screen behind her.

Relatis turned around. The program was continuing its broadcast, complete with evidence: before the cosmetic surgery, Relatis was a fright—small eyes, large nostrils, extremely deep nasolabial folds, and most critically, a shocking black scar on her face. After the procedure, needless to say, she immediately became the number one beauty at the Dongdian Military University.

The host gestured extravagantly, speaking with dramatic flourish: "The informant claims to be an assistant to the renowned plastic surgery master, Nishabbi. Kleroti. Alfonchiss. Daibang, who personally witnessed Relatis’s transformation from an ugly duckling to a swan... For several years, he tried to expose this multiple times but was terrified of Relatis’s retaliation. Now, he has finally mustered the courage to tell the audience everything and hopes the authorities can provide him with security guarantees."

Relatis was going mad!

She stood up uncontrollably, yelling, "Immediately, turn off this screen right now!"

A staff member from the Beautiful Flower Pavilion, a loli-bot, scurried over, bowing and scraping obsequiously, "May I ask what the guest requires?"

"Nonsense!" Relatis was so enraged her nose was practically crooked. "Where is your boss? Where is he!"

Her voice startled everyone in the restaurant. Many who were still watching the news suddenly noticed the real-life Relatis, stopped watching the program, and began murmuring amongst themselves.

"Hey, look, there’s that artificial beauty, Relatis. The work turned out really well; she looks quite the part."

"I agree. Maybe I should visit the master surgeon myself sometime and have my nose fixed. I’m sick of my flat nose."

...

Relatis’s hands trembled with fury. She opened her comm-link and dialed a number, shouting, "I don't care how you do it, stop the six o'clock student entertainment program right now!"

Her friends had also seen the news. Seeing Relatis’s face flushed red with anger, they dared not approach, watching her from a distance. Only the twins and Ziye remained seated, displaying faces of "deep sorrow," expressing regret over such an accident.

However, their composure was flawed; in unguarded moments, the faintest flicker of a smile occasionally danced in their eyes.

Relatis, having completely lost her usual goddess demeanor, snatched a cup like a ruffian and smashed it onto the sleek tabletop: "Get your boss out here, now!"

Everyone knew she was redirecting her rage and quickly sidestepped, creating space for her. The manager of the Beautiful Flower Pavilion saw the scene and hastily retreated behind the service counter, simultaneously shutting down the screen.

Relatis glared viciously at the dark screen, wishing she could shatter it into a million pieces.

The audience, however, was greatly dissatisfied. Fearing they wouldn't make it outside to see the massive public screens, they simply sat back down and turned on their personal comm-brains to watch the live stream. Some enterprising individuals offered up their own comm-brains, projecting the interface onto a 60-inch virtual screen suspended right in the center of the Beautiful Flower Pavilion, continuing the broadcast.

Unfortunately, the program was nearing its end. They only managed to hear the host conclude: "The informant alleges that Relatis’s 36D bust may also be the result of genetic modification, though this remains unconfirmed and requires further investigation for the truth. This is reporter Nida-dadadadada reporting."

That final sentence was loaded with subtle meaning. On the surface, it was blowing the whistle on her breast augmentation; in reality, it was confirming that the plastic surgery allegations were true and verifiable.

Only the buzzing sound of discussion remained in the restaurant.

Relatis could endure no more and stormed out of the pavilion.

Her friends, unsure of the exact situation, hurried after her. Being Relatis’s close associates, they naturally had their own means. They immediately used their comm-links to query the reporter, who queried the informant, and one particularly aggressive friend even threatened to shut down the entire student entertainment program.

The scene descended into chaos.

The twins exchanged a look, a cunning smile spreading across their faces—Hahaha, revenge successfully executed!

Ziye was momentarily stunned when the incident occurred.

The report’s timing was too perfect, and the twins’ behavior too peculiar, forcing her to suspect something. Unfortunately, the twins gave her no chance to ask, pinning her back in her seat. "Don't talk, don't talk, eating is what matters."

Orders were placed, and food arrived.

Ziye ate while glancing sideways at the twins from the corner of her eye. The twins remained as composed as if they knew nothing. Ziye finally couldn't resist, coughed lightly, and asked, "Did you... do something bad?"

The twins instinctively leaned their heads towards each other, striking a remarkably cool twin pose, and smiled faintly, "What could we possibly have done?"

Ziye ignored them, quickly wolfed down her meal, opened her comm-brain, and started searching for herself.

The news report had sounded plausible, but upon closer scrutiny, there were loopholes everywhere. First, the host had changed; that host had never appeared on the student entertainment program, and their appearance was so utterly average, they were practically invisible in a crowd. Second, there were many plastic surgery masters, but certainly not a "Nishabbi. Kleroti. Alfonchiss. Daibang"—she searched the entire Net and couldn't find any record of this person. Third, the informant's name was very... suggestive.

The twins leaned over her shoulder, watching her search until she found the program and started the replay.

The replayed segment contained none of that portion.

Ziye refused to give up, searched again, but still nothing.

The twins nearby laughed heartily.

Ziye paused for a brief moment, instantly grasping the trick. Instead of searching for the program, she searched for the host’s avatar. Soon, all the answers appeared.

The sudden appearance of the host was generated using advanced comm-brain synthesis technology; the face used an interstellar average face, the body an interstellar average build, and even the hair was standard issue.

As for the names of the plastic surgeon and the informant, they were pure mockery. Everything else was pieced together by sourcing materials from across the Net and combining them in various ways. Most people, without careful inspection, wouldn't detect the underlying fabrication.

Ziye couldn't help but admire, "What incredible skill!"

Seeing that she had figured it out, the twins stopped hiding it and explained the entire sequence of events. They revealed that the pre-surgery photos were also generated using an average 'ugly face' with minor adjustments. Once everything was prepared, they hacked into the entertainment program's live feed and inserted the broadcast.

That was why, if one searched for the video after the program concluded, it would be impossible to retrieve—unless some meddlesome soul had recorded and uploaded it to the Net.

After listening, Ziye held even greater admiration for the twins.

All true retaliation wasn't simple verbal sparring or superficial displays of brute force, but rather the application of thought, combined with inherent capabilities, leveraging multifaceted resources to deliver a clean, swift slap right across the enemy's face while remaining completely unseen.

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