437: Chapter 437 Two Billion Views, I Plead Guilty

Evening, 7th floor of the Shuguang Technology Re-education Center, Cognitive Intervention Room.

Lawrence Wong sat in an adjustable functional chair, with two thin-as-cicada-wing neural sensor patches attached to his temples. The wires from the patches connected to a quantum neural interface console manufactured by Shuguang Technology. On the side of the console, a line of small text was printed: "Third Level — Truth Retrospection — Phase Two." In front of him was a curved, high-definition screen covering the entire wall. It was playing a video—not an interrogation record, not a war criminal's confession, but historical footage. The footage was filmed behind Changi Prison in 1944. Twelve British pilots were tied to wooden stakes, and standing before them was a Chinese interpreter wearing the uniform of the Japanese Kempeitai. The interpreter's lips were moving; he was repeating the Japanese officer's sentencing verdict in English. After he finished the last word, the twelve pilots were simultaneously beheaded.

In the bottom left corner of the screen, an original document floated up: Roster of Interpreters for the Syonan-to Kempeitai, Third Post, name column reading—Ng Ah Hock. Wong Ah Fook.

The footage paused on the final frame of the interpreter's profile. Eighty-three years separated Lawrence Wong from his grandfather, yet they shared almost identical eye socket arcs.

A voiceover began. It wasn't a synthesized system voice, but his own—the words he had spoken during a team discussion three days ago, recorded by the system and now serving as his self-retrospective narration.

"My name is Lawrence Wong. My grandfather, Wong Ah Fook, served as an interpreter for the Japanese Kempeitai from 1943–1945. My great-grandfather, Wong Wenfu, repaired the Changi Naval Base dockyards for the Japanese military during the same period. My father, Wong Chin-sung, while serving as the Permanent Secretary of the Singapore Ministry of Education in the 1980s, personally signed the order to shut down Nanyang University and the dismissal notices for 120 faculty members. Three generations of our Wong family—building docks for invaders, interpreting for colonizers, destroying schools for those in power. This is my family history."

The screen switched to the next segment: the original document of the detention order for Operation Spectrum signed by his father in 1987. The paper was yellowed, and the signature in the bottom left corner was clear—Wong Chin-sung, Title: Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Home Affairs. Below the document was the sixteenth name on the list of detainees: Chen Wenhui. Charge: Suspected of spreading leftist ideology.

Another cut: The closing ceremony of Nanyang University. The school flag was lowered, students knelt on the lawn, and someone removed the school badge from their chest and clutched it in their palm. The voiceover was Lawrence Wong's father in an interview with The Straits Times: "The closure of Nanyang University was to unify the education system. We do not reject the Chinese language—we only reject those who use the Chinese language to engage in politics."

Another cut: Himself. 2025 Bloomberg Forum, on the podium, he was saying: "We are guiding Singapore with a visionary roadmap, and we must prevent certain forces from hijacking ASEAN with digital totalitarianism."

The screen switched to a line of text on an inverted background: "《Documentary on Eliminating Traitors》 Episode 1 — The Three Generations of the Wong Family. Uploaded to the Shuguang Cloud global video platform, view count: 2.031 billion."

The inverted background faded out, leaving only a green button on the screen with "Press to record confession statement" written below it. Lawrence Wong's right hand hovered above the button, with only three centimeters between his index finger and thumb. His hand did not tremble. There were tears in his eyes, but they did not fall. He pressed it without hesitation—not because he was forced, not because the patches stimulated his nerve endings, but because he had already watched eight hours of archives, from the Order of the Rising Sun awarded to Wong Ah Fook by the Showa Emperor to the motion he himself passed in Parliament to impose sanctions on Myanmar, every page read. He began to speak. His voice was drier and slower than it had been during the group discussion three days ago, each word seemingly pried from the root of his tongue.

"During my tenure, I signed four unilateral sanction orders and two freezing decrees against the Federation of Myanmar and its allies on behalf of the Singapore government. Sanction order numbers: SG/20250217-01, SG/20250217-02, SG/20250901-03, SG/20251111-04. Freezing decree number: SGFA/202506. The evidence on which these six documents were based—the so-called 'Kra Canal violates the Law of the Sea Convention,' 'Digital Asian Currency undermines financial stability,' 'Shuguang chips contain backdoors'—has never been verified by any independent third party. The evidence was provided by the US Seventh Fleet Intelligence Office and the CIA Singapore Station, directly sealed into parliamentary archives, never made public, and never subjected to judicial review. In parliamentary debates, I concealed the source of the evidence from members of parliament three times. I told the people that the sanctions were to uphold the international legal order. I told the cabinet that the sanctions were to protect our 12,000 soldiers. I told myself—the sanctions were to keep my position."

He paused, swallowed, and the patches flickered slightly as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"I accuse CIA Singapore Station Chief Colby Reynolds of violating Annex 9 of the Geneva Convention, illegally providing arms and intelligence to Singapore, assisting the Singapore government in planning the 'Malacca Defense Initiative,' and attempting to blockade the Kra Canal and cut off the maritime trade routes of the Federation of Myanmar by military means. I accuse myself of war crimes, conspiracy to undermine regional peace, crimes against humanity, and treason against my ethnic group. All the above accusations are based on real materials. I now admit to these charges facing this Lens. Signature—Lawrence Wong."

A real-time handwritten signature appeared on the right side of the screen. It was his handwriting, every stroke captured by the pressure sensors in the quantum neural interface.

When Lawrence Wong's confession statement finished recording, on the twelfth floor of the same re-education center, Lee Hsien Loong was undergoing a different procedure. He was not required to face the Lens. He sat at a table with a high-precision scanned photo of his grandfather Lee Muwen's Order of the Rising Sun spread out. Next to it lay the 1987 Operation Spectrum detention order, the 1980 Nanyang University closure order, the 1971 Nanyang Siang Pau closure order, the 1966 internal document of the Singapore government expelling University of Malaya graduates, and immigration archives, as well as the scroll personally written by Lee Kuan Yew that hung in the family study of these three generations: "We decide who can stay in Singapore."

The scroll was the original. "Shadow Blade" had taken it off the wall during the raid on the Orchard Road villa.

Lee Hsien Loong looked at his grandfather's medal, looked at his father's calligraphy, and looked at the documents he had signed himself. He did not speak; he simply placed his left hand on the photo of the medal and his right hand on the detention order, then slowly pressed his forehead down onto the desktop between the two sheets of paper. The monitoring system recorded the duration of this posture: seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds. When he raised his head, there was a red mark on his forehead. He began to write. It was not a confession statement, but an open letter to all citizens of Singapore. The first sentence of the open letter read: "On behalf of the Lee family and the Singapore government, I apologize to everyone who lost their husbands, fathers, and lives during Operation Spectrum. This apology is forty years late—your husbands and fathers can no longer hear it."