No. 97 Those Prisoners Who Wander
My stepbrother, Mo Ziyang, aside from being an anime enthusiast, was also a dedicated gamer.
It was rare to find a university student, especially a male one, who didn’t play video games. Those who abstained were rarer than pandas. Even those who had never touched a game before often felt pressured to learn, driven by social expectations.
It was similar to drinking. Many people initially loathed the taste of alcohol, but societal pressures often forced them to conform.
Company gatherings, toasts with colleagues, celebrations with friends—refusing a drink was often perceived as a sign of disrespect or aloofness.
In university, gaming was a social currency. Those who didn’t participate were often ostracized, their lack of gaming knowledge a barrier to forming friendships and networking opportunities. To fit in, to avoid being labeled as a social outcast, they had to learn.
Similarly, a girl who disliked shopping, if placed in a dormitory with shopaholic roommates, would likely succumb to peer pressure, either embracing the joys of retail therapy or accepting the label of a social recluse.
I intended to exploit my stepbrother’s gaming habits by planting a little “surprise” on his computer.
Wang Cai had already installed a backdoor on his computer, so I didn’t need to hack into it again. But to prevent him from reformatting his hard drive in a fit of rage, I had obtained his QQ number, ensuring future access.
As I checked my email, I noticed a message from Zhui Feng, its subject line alarming.
“Urgent! Invitation from the Kennel! This concerns the fate of humanity!”
The Upper Capital City branch of the Queen Bee hacker alliance was known as the “Kennel” because all its members used dog-themed aliases.
Zhui Feng (Chasing Wind), Jing Lei (Thunderbolt), Shan Dian (Lightning), Gou Zi (Puppy), Wang Cai (Lucky Dog).
They claimed to have chosen those names because they were unassuming, easily overlooked, and less likely to attract unwanted attention.
My alias, “Little Bee,” had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
I had initially assumed Zhui Feng’s email was a technical query, but to my surprise, it contained information about the Gathering Hall.
“Urgent. Regarding the investigation of the criminal organization you requested, Little Bee, we’ve uncovered something disturbing.”
The email seemed to be a mass message, not addressed specifically to me.
Zhui Feng described a heavily encrypted file he had extracted from the Gathering Hall’s server.
“It’s a highly contagious virus that can transform ordinary people into zombie-like creatures. It’s transmitted through bodily fluids, and there’s no known cure or vaccine. The Gathering Hall plans to release it into Upper Capital City’s main water supply, infecting the entire population.”
“The report suggests a release date in August, giving us less than two months to stop them. But we haven’t been able to locate their research facility.”
“This email has been forwarded to all core members of major hacker alliances. If they’ve truly developed a zombie virus, as the report suggests, it could be a global catastrophe.”
“We urge all hackers to unite. This is no longer a simple criminal matter. It concerns the fate of humanity. Please set aside your current projects and focus on investigating this threat. A new crusade is upon us.”
“Crusade” was the term hackers used for coordinated cyberattacks, usually in response to national security threats or patriotic causes.
“A zombie virus?”
Xiaodie, who had been reading over my shoulder, stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Yi Yao… Is this real?”
I nodded grimly. “Yes.”
Upper Capital City had indeed experienced a zombie outbreak in my previous life.
It had occurred during my first summer vacation in high school. The virus had spread rapidly, infecting the entire city within a week.
Ironically, the virus itself wasn’t particularly harmful.
Dizziness, fever, mild hallucinations, and skin discoloration were the main symptoms. Infected individuals experienced a sense of disorientation and blurred vision, but their cognitive abilities remained intact. However, the prevalence of zombie movies had created a widespread panic, convincing many citizens that this was a genuine zombie apocalypse.
And some individuals, either out of malice or a desire for chaos, had exploited the situation, intentionally biting uninfected people, spreading fear and misinformation, embracing the apocalyptic narrative.
The city had descended into chaos, with infected individuals looting and rioting, celebrating their perceived freedom from societal constraints.
“No way… Yi Yao, don’t scare me! Is the world ending?”
Xiaodie trembled, clutching my arm. “This is fake, right? Zombies don’t exist…”
“Well…”
I opened my sent items folder.
“I tried to warn the authorities, but they refused to believe me. They’re convinced that Shadow has been eradicated.”
I had attempted to raise the alarm months ago, but my warnings had fallen on deaf ears. A sixteen-year-old middle school girl’s concerns were easily dismissed.
Even Ouyang Dati and Pai Ge had thought I was delusional.
I’m from ten years in the future. I’ve experienced this—those words would only invite ridicule.
So all I could do was prepare for the inevitable, to protect my family and myself.
That was why I had asked Zhui Feng and his team to investigate the Gathering Hall. A warning from a reputable hacker alliance would carry more weight than the ramblings of a teenager.
But I hadn’t expected the threat to materialize so soon.
“Don’t worry, the virus isn’t fatal,” I said, trying to reassure her.
Like a common cold, the so-called zombie virus had a limited lifespan within the human body. The immune system would eventually eliminate it within two weeks. And with the rapid development of a vaccine a month later, the outbreak had been contained before it could spread beyond Upper Capital City.
But while the virus itself wasn’t deadly, its consequences were devastating.
Countless people had lost their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of security. The once-thriving city had become a ghost town, a breeding ground for violence and despair.
Over a thousand people had died indirectly from the outbreak, mostly from fighting and a few from suicide.
“We’ll just stock up on supplies and stay home for two weeks,” I said, my voice calm.
The virus had come and gone quickly. After the first person recovered, more and more people realized it wasn’t fatal. Combined with the government’s effective containment measures, the city had returned to normalcy within a month.
“Are you… sure?”
Xiaodie’s voice was laced with doubt.
“Do you believe in zombies?” I asked, gently knocking on her forehead. “Of course not! They defy the laws of physics. How can a creature run and bite without eating or drinking for years? It’s as impossible as a perpetual motion machine.”
Although, I did believe in the existence of phenomena that science couldn’t explain.
“Pai Ge is already investigating the Gathering Hall. We’re just kids. Let the adults handle it. They’ll take care of it.”
“But… zombie girls are cute, aren’t they?” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. “I’m not… afraid…”
“You will be.”
Everyone would be.
Even with a mortality rate of less than one percent, the mere mention of a virus triggered a primal fear, a biological imperative for self-preservation.
I knew that no matter what I said, no one would believe me when the time came.
Even the scientists who had studied the virus and declared it non-lethal had been met with skepticism and fear.
If I couldn’t control the situation, I would focus on protecting those I cared about.
“I’m not afraid. You’ll protect me, right, Yi Yao?”
“Of course. But you have to promise to listen to me and stay home.”
I closed my email and opened the backdoor program Gou Zi had provided.
The monitoring window showed my “onii-chan,” back in his dormitory, launching League of Legends and joining a ranked match with his roommates.
I connected to their voice chat, and as expected, he was bragging about his “little sister.”
“You guys wouldn’t believe it. My new stepsister is so adorable! She’s beautiful, nothing like her online persona. And she’s so sweet and caring. It’s like a dream come true. I can’t believe such a perfect little sister actually exists.”
“Gross, dude. You’re creepy. You’re attracted to your own sister?” a gruff voice responded.
“Hey, you don’t understand. I’ve never had a sister before. I’m starting to think I won’t be able to tolerate a girlfriend who’s less perfect than her.”
“First, you need to get a girlfriend.”
“Can we not talk about that?”
They laughed, their banter a symphony of youthful camaraderie, then entered the game.
“I’ll support.”
“I’ll carry.”
I watched the monitoring screen, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. I uploaded the virus I had created.
His computer had three games installed: League of Legends, Dungeon Fighter Online, and Dragon Nest.
The virus was designed to trigger specific events in each game. In League of Legends, if he achieved a double kill or higher, there was a chance his internet connection would be severed. A quadra kill would guarantee a disconnection.
In Dungeon Fighter Online, obtaining an epic item would trigger a disconnection. And in Dragon Nest, there was a chance his computer would shut down randomly.
“That’s what you get for entering my room without permission,” I muttered, closing the monitoring window. I leaned over and kissed Xiaodie’s cheek.
“Want to go out?”
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