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    Translator: Abo Dammen


    Fei Shilan asked Lu Ying, “Is this the internet cafe?”

     

    Lu Ying, hearing Fei Shilan’s question, immediately reached for the small notebook in her pocket.

     

    Fei Shilan, “…”

     

    He had forgotten about her poor memory.

     

    “It should be,” Tian Bin chimed in.

     

    The internet cafe was located in a small alley. It had rained the night before, leaving the road pitted and filled with stagnant water, covered with a rainbow-colored film of oil.

     

    Fei Shilan didn’t let the security officers enter. Instead, he and Lu Ying went in first to scout the place.

     

    Pushing aside the curtain, the middle-aged man at the front desk didn’t even look up. “No internet for the past two days. Can’t go online.”

     

    Fei Shilan surveyed the surroundings. The ceiling was stained, and a loose panel hung precariously above the front desk, looking dangerously close to falling.

     

    The computer area wasn’t lit, but the blue glow from the screens illuminated the faces of young people engrossed in their games, creating an eerie atmosphere.

     

    The lighting was dim, the air was stale, and it was clear this was an unlicensed establishment.

     

    This was a black-market internet cafe.1

     

    Fei Shilan stepped forward, keeping his hands off the counter. “If there’s no internet, how are they playing games?”

     

    The middle-aged man at the front desk glanced at him. “Single-player games, want to play?”

     

    Fei Shilan, “Sure. Open a machine for eight hours. I didn’t bring my ID, is that okay?”

     

    “No ID needed. You can leave whenever you want.” The man’s gaze shifted to Lu Ying behind Fei Shilan, and he smirked. “Just playing games is boring. Handsome, need a private room? Guaranteed safety and privacy.”

     

    Lu Ying looked at Fei Shilan, confused.

     

    Fei Shilan’s face fell, and he sternly refused.

     

    The man sighed in disappointment, pulled out a stack of IDs from a drawer, and handed one to Fei Shilan. “Machine 75. Just swipe this.”

     

    Fei Shilan nodded, took the ID, and quickly sent a message on his phone.

     

    Within minutes, a swarm of security officers rushed in, surrounding the entire internet cafe.

     

    “Nobody move!”

     

    In the computer area, the crowd grew restless. It was their first time seeing so many security officers raiding a black-market internet cafe!

     

    The middle-aged man stammered, “Officer, we’re just a small business—”

     

    Tian Bin stepped forward. “We’ve received reports that you allow minors to access the internet and use fake IDs! Show us your business license!”

     

    The owner tearfully produced the license. “How could we allow minors?!” The internet’s been down!

     

    Tian Bin glared at him. Surprisingly, the cafe’s credentials weren’t too problematic. He then said, “I suspect you’re organizing indecent activities!”

     

    The owner looked at Fei Shilan behind Tian Bin, on the verge of tears. “Buddy, I treated you sincerely. Why are you entrapping me?”

     

    Tian Bin, “Enough! Show us the surveillance footage!”

     

    The owner pulled up the footage, and the information security team immediately got to work. They weren’t checking the private rooms but looking for someone.

     

    Soon, they located Song Jiayang in the footage.

     

    He was wearing headphones, playing a game, with a chat icon blinking in the bottom right corner of the screen.

     

    Strangely, Song Jiayang seemed completely unaware.

     

    Even when playing games, people usually check their messages during breaks, right?

     

    Fei Shilan soon found the reason.

     

    The guy wasn’t checking his messages because his attention was entirely on the person sitting next to him!

     

    Fei Shilan watched in disbelief as Song Jiayang hesitantly greeted the young man beside him, his eyes constantly darting over, completely oblivious to the chat notifications on his computer.

     

    “That anomaly impersonated this guy to send him messages,” Tian Bin said, clicking his tongue. “It’s a blind spot in the surveillance. We can’t see the guy’s face clearly.”

     

    Tian Bin checked the machine number. “Machine 79.”

     

    The information security team immediately isolated the machine physically, surrounding it.

     

    Meanwhile, the investigation team, under Lu Ying’s direction, began the cleanup. “Level I memory wipe.”

     

    The girl with black-framed glasses, wearing a white uniform with two large pockets filled with spray cans, went around spraying.

     

    The internet cafe owner watched in shock as the patrons, as if drugged, sat dazed in their chairs.

     

    A minute later, they woke up, pale-faced, and left the cafe, muttering, “Never coming to a black-market internet cafe again…”

     

    The owner’s voice was hoarse. “I wasn’t involved in anything, right…”

     

    Lu Ying put her hands on her hips. “You used fake IDs.”

     

    “Those were IDs we found…”

     

    “You allowed minors in.”

     

    “What could I do? They brought their parents’ IDs! These minors are taller than me!”

     

    “You organized indecent activities,” Lu Ying said, pursing her lips.

     

    The owner hung his head in defeat. He shouldn’t have said anything.

     

    “We’ve verified the user information for machines 72 to 79 after 6 PM on the 18th. Between 6 and 6:30 PM, everyone who logged in received a friend request on their phones. Regardless of whether they accepted, everyone except Song Jiayang died of suffocation. This is the earliest contamination we’ve found. We can basically confirm that the anomaly initiated the first wave of contamination during this period. After the carriers died, the information spread rapidly through their friend lists, triggering subsequent events.”

     

    It was clear that the source of the anomaly was this internet cafe.

     

    At a certain point, the computers in this row all received message notifications. Whether they clicked on them or not, the moment they were selected, they became “lucky winners.”

     

    This was the first time the Anomaly Investigation Bureau had traced the source of a network contamination. It laid the foundation for containing similar anomalies in the future, marking a historic achievement.

     

    Fei Shilan’s phone kept buzzing with messages.

     

    Tian Bin flipped through the documents. “However, the face of the person sitting next to Song Jiayang isn’t clear. It’s strange. That angle shouldn’t be so blurry.”

     

    Fei Shilan stopped typing. “Check other cameras. Enhance the footage.”

     

    Tian Bin, “It might take some time. I’ll ask.” He glanced at the internet cafe owner. If they had registered IDs, this wouldn’t have been a problem.

     

    The owner remained silent.

     

    Fei Shilan nodded. “Let’s leave it at that for now.”

     

    Tian Bin sighed. Even if they found that person, what could they do? They were probably dead, like the others.

     

    The technicians connected to the devices and began processing them.

     

    They had never traced this type of network code before, but based on headquarters’ experience and speculation, containing the original code would render the anomaly non-contagious. They could then clear the remaining contamination, and even the original code. The spawned sub-codes would also disappear.

     

    Xinhai might make history.

     

    Fei Shilan stared intently at the computers.

     

    They had mutated. When the technicians opened the machines, the internal components had melted and fused together, like a burnt pot. Yet, just moments ago, these computers had been running smoothly.

     

    The technicians, fully equipped, carefully disassembled the machines.

     

    The components had fused together, as if they had gained some form of life. The intricate wires inside the mainframe quietly extended tendrils, colorful and ready to wrap around the technicians’ wrists.

     

    A pair of white-gloved hands pinched the thin wires.

     

    “Eek~!!!!” The thing let out a shrill scream.

     

    The technicians were startled.

     

    “The carrier has mutated. It’s fine. Keep going.”

     

    Fei Shilan’s fingertips formed ice crystals, which crept up the wires. The wires struggled before falling still.

     

    The ice crystals dissipated, and the humidity in the air rose, condensing on the technicians’ foreheads into beads of sweat.

     

    Strangely, despite the water, there was no electrical leakage.

     

    The technicians rarely encountered anomalies directly or saw Anomaly Investigation Bureau officers in action. They were all amazed.

     

    Is this what supernatural abilities look like?

     

    Under the tense atmosphere, the technicians worked faster.

     

    About half an hour later, they looked troubled. “Captain Fei, we didn’t find it.”

     

    Fei Shilan’s expression darkened.

     

    “What do you mean, you didn’t find it?”

     

    “The anomaly transferred the original code.” If the host wasn’t dead, the original code might not feel safe here and had moved itself elsewhere.

     

    Fei Shilan, “It’s not a virus! How can it transfer?!”

     

    “It’s more troublesome than a virus.”

     

    “Can we still find it?”

     

    “Very difficult.”

     

    “Extremely difficult?”

     

    “If the last host is still alive, the code is likely in their phone.”

     

    “What if they’re dead?”

     

    The technician wiped his sweat. “Then it could be anywhere.”

     

    Fei Shilan sighed deeply. “Contact the imaging department…”

     

    “Beep—”

     

    Fei Shilan answered the phone. “Hello, Director—”

     

    “Shilan! Great job! I think you’re getting a promotion!”

     

    Fei Shilan’s voice faltered. “What did I do?”

     

    The director seemed to be showing off to someone, speaking loudly. “Didn’t you eliminate the original code?!”

     

    Fei Shilan was stunned. “Since when?”


    Half a day earlier, Ruan Zhou’s phone had no internet, and he hadn’t been paying attention to the news or media. He didn’t know what was happening but noticed that there were fewer people outside, and those who were out seemed hurried and tense.

     

    The entire city seemed shrouded in gloom, with ambulances and security vehicles frequently passing by. It was clear that some major public incident had occurred.

     

    Zhong Renbao had emphasized staying indoors as much as possible.

     

    But Ruan Zhou couldn’t stay cooped up, and he didn’t have the energy to focus on external events.

     

    Too much had happened in the past two days, and he needed some peace and quiet.

     

    The constant complaints from guests about the internet at the hotel had driven Ruan Zhou to leave and disconnect entirely.

     

    Avoiding the bustling parts of the city, he found a bench to sit on. The spring breeze was refreshing, and the ducks swimming in the park’s lake added to the serene atmosphere.

     

    In his previous world, it had been years since he’d experienced such tranquility. His mood naturally calmed.

     

    He considered himself lucky. Even after crossing worlds, he had met Zhong Renbao. But even though Zhong Renbao had offered him a place to stay, Ruan Zhou felt guilty.

     

    Helping in an emergency was one thing, but relying on someone long-term was another. Plus, he felt responsible for Zhong Renbao’s uncle ending up in the hospital.

     

    There weren’t many jobs in Xinhai that provided room and board, but there were some. He decided to look around.

     

    Clutching the little money he had left, Ruan Zhou felt the weight of his situation.

     

    He was broke.

     

    Zhong Renbao had lent him the kitchen, but the groceries he’d bought a few days ago were almost gone.

     

    The fish was still untouched, still being kept.

     

    Zhong Renbao had suggested releasing it and even bought fish food for it.

     

    Ruan Zhou couldn’t bear to dampen the boy’s enthusiasm, so he let it be.

     

    As he walked, Ruan Zhou couldn’t help but notice how similar this world was to his previous one.

     

    The architectural style, language, culture, and even aesthetics were almost identical. If it weren’t for the different history and slightly lower technological level, he might have thought he hadn’t crossed worlds at all.

     

    He took out his phone to check the time and noticed that the contact labeled “Boss” was still messaging him on WeChat.

     

    [If you don’t reply, I’ll fire you!]

     

    [You have the guts to reply, but not to watch the video I sent? Don’t you believe me?]

     

    Ruan Zhou put down his bottle of water and picked up his phone.

     

    [Who are you, really?]

     

    [Open the video and see if I’m your boss!]

     

    This thing on his phone was probably a virus.

     

    Like those AI chat programs online that pretend to be attractive people, but are actually just bots.

     

    After all, if crossing worlds was possible, having a smart program on his phone wasn’t that shocking.

     

    [I’m busy looking for a job. I’ll watch it later.]

     

    The constant messages were annoying. Ruan Zhou was about to delete the contact when the other party sent another message:

     

    [You’ll have time to watch it after you find a job?]

     

    After some thought, Ruan Zhou replied: [Yes.]

     

    The “Boss” sent a location and a job posting.

     

    [Alright, go try this one.]

     

    Ruan Zhou was stunned.

     

    [174 Freedom Road.]

     

    Was this program so advanced that it could even help him find a job?

     

    Ruan Zhou got off the bus and looked around at the desolate surroundings. He realized he must be desperate for work to have come here.

     

    Maybe it was just a hacker’s prank? What if they had lured him here for some other purpose?

     

    But then again, with such hacking skills, why target an ordinary person like him?

     

    The row of buildings along the road looked abandoned. Ruan Zhou circled the area a few times before finally finding the address.

     

    At the entrance stood a life-sized cutout of a man with slicked-back hair, smiling brightly. He even had a name tag that read “Li Wu.”

     

    It was the job posting.

     

    They were actually hiring, and it included room and board!

     

    Ruan Zhou saw the recruitment ad outside the convenience store and felt a spark of hope.

     

    “Ding dong!” He pushed the door open and was greeted by the sweet smile of a clerk. “Welcome to Fuqiang Convenience Store.”

     

    A faint scent of perfume lifted his spirits. The store was surprisingly spacious, with ample room between shelves. The back of the store seemed unused, as if waiting for something to fill it.

     

    The clean, tidy environment, the well-stocked shelves, and the gleaming floor made the store live up to its name.

     

    The only downside was the lack of customers.

     

    “I’m here for the job interview,” Ruan Zhou said with a smile.

     

    The clerk’s expression didn’t change. “Of course, please follow me.”

     

    The clerk, Li Juan, was also the store manager. After asking Ruan Zhou a few questions, she approved his application without even asking for his ID. The process was unusually smooth.

     

    “Since you don’t have relevant work experience, the starting salary is 3,000,” she added. “If you perform well, there’s room for raises.”

     

    The store provided accommodation, which solved a lot of problems. Ruan Zhou was satisfied.

     

    Li Juan, “You can start tomorrow. Let me show you the living quarters. You’ll likely work night shifts initially, as all new hires do. After a month, you can switch between day and night shifts.”

     

    Ruan Zhou agreed. “I’ll go get my luggage and come back tonight.”

     

    Li Juan’s smile deepened. “No problem.”

     

    After securing the job, Ruan Zhou hurried back to the hotel to explain the situation to Zhong Renbao.

     

    Zhong Renbao was reluctant. He hadn’t yet released the carp with Ruan Zhou or repaid him for saving his life.

     

    Ruan Zhou said seriously, “You can’t use your uncle’s assets to repay me.”

     

    Zhong Renbao fell silent.

     

    “I’ll keep in touch once my phone is fixed,” Ruan Zhou said, patting Zhong Renbao’s shoulder.

     

    Zhong Renbao’s dyed hair fluttered in the wind as he tearfully bid Ruan Zhou farewell. “Bro, I’ll make something of myself! I’ll repay your kindness!”

     

    Ruan Zhou carried his carp in a plastic bag with a few belongings and returned to the convenience store.

     

    The employee dormitory was on the third floor.

     

    The first floor was the store, the second floor was the warehouse, and the third floor was the living area.

     

    It was rare to find such a generous boss who rented three floors and decorated them so lavishly. It felt more like a shell company than a convenience store.

     

    The dormitory was clean. Li Juan lived in the girls’ dorm next door, while Ruan Zhou’s room was for male employees. He heard there was another male colleague, but the room showed no signs of being lived in.

     

    Two bunk beds faced each other, bare and empty. Further in was the bathroom, where the sink was dry, with only faint water stains.

     

    Ruan Zhou dampened a towel and thoroughly cleaned the beds, tables, and cabinets. He then took out his newly bought red basin and placed Xiao Hei inside.

     

    Xiao Hei was the name Ruan Zhou had given to the carp.

     

    He had temporarily given up on eating the fish. As the only living thing from this world that he had with him, he had grown somewhat attached to it after a few days.

     

    He took out the bag of fish food Zhong Renbao had given him and sprinkled some into the basin.

     

    Xiao Hei’s tail wagged excitedly as it swallowed the food, not minding being back in a confined space. Its diet had been good lately, and its scales had darkened so much that it almost looked like a black fish.

     

    In the afternoon, Li Juan brought him a quilt: a soft, blue comforter with small daisies, smelling of sunshine.

     

    What a kind person!

     

    Ruan Zhou thought.

     

    [Congratulations on the new job.] The “Boss” eagerly sent him a message.

     

    [Now can you watch the video?!]

     

    Seeing how persistent the other party was, Ruan Zhou felt a bit guilty. He kicked off his disposable slippers, sat cross-legged on the dormitory bed, and clicked on the gray 10-second video.

     

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