Chapter 80 - 33: The "Patch" in the Audio

Chapter 80: Chapter 33: The "Patch" in the Audio

She pulled up a long string of transcoded code on the screen. Although it was full of garbled text, some English words within it could already be parsed:

"They probably used a ’scripting language’ for this part to make it easier to update the content at any time. The security isn’t that high, so I managed to crack a small portion and convert it into readable text..."

Yu Xian sensed a hint of worry and... sympathy in her eyes as she looked at him.

Scene: White Room, Asset Call: Null, Lighting: Global Ambient Light.

Yu Xian stared fixedly at the English words in those few lines of code.

The despair that had tormented him in his dreams for ten days and ten nights, the red countdown that had once made him want to vomit and end his own life.

There they were, lying quietly within the audio’s code.

It was just like a game with preset rules.

And he was just an insignificant NPC trapped inside.

"It really is... a script," Yu Xian murmured. "The seller understood it perfectly."

"Seller?"

Yu Xian didn’t answer, instead pointing to the "Asset Call: Null" line and asking:

"What does this mean?"

"My guess is that this audio file didn’t ’call’ any assets from your brain. The code only specified ’it is white.’ As for the size, the wall material, the quality of the light—your brain rendered all of that by filling in the blanks itself."

Wen Xiao turned to look at Yu Xian. She seemed to want to comfort him but didn’t know what to say.

"He’s programming our brains," Yu Xian said, his voice hoarse.

He suppressed the overwhelming feeling of suffocation and picked up his phone.

’If this logic holds, then the code for the ’Midnight Bus’ file from the Black Market must contain a similar script.’

"Wen Xiao, I bought an audio file from a forum today. Its function might be the same as the TDI login key, but with one difference: it lets people remember what happened in their dreams after they wake up. Can you help me see... what’s inside this file?"

Wen Xiao took the phone, imported the file to her computer, and glanced at the pink power bank dangling from it.

Outside the glass-walled room, rain poured down in sheets.

Inside, a pair of slender hands flew across the keyboard.

"Here it is..."

The screen flickered as a new spectrogram appeared. Wen Xiao chewed on her fingernail.

"This file is very similar to the original TDI audio, but... it looks like the structure has changed a little."

"How so?" Yu Xian leaned closer.

"It seems to... have an extra section?"

Wen Xiao pointed to the segmented color blocks on the screen:

"The first part is still a piano piece, but it’s not Schoenberg’s Op. 25 anymore. I just ran it through a song identifier, and it’s Anton Webern’s *Piano Variations, Op. 27*."

"Why... did it change?" Yu Xian asked, surprised.

"Webern was Schoenberg’s student and a successor of the Twelve-tone Technique."

’The Twelve-tone Technique... Looks like I’ll have to do some serious research on this composition method.’

Wen Xiao pointed to two other waveform diagrams on the screen:

"This time, the ’black box’ has two parts. Just like the last one, I can’t open them at all. If, as you said, this audio lets people remember their dreams, then I suspect this extra part is what’s responsible for that function."

Yu Xian nodded. He had suspected the same thing.

"The extra part is probably meant to counteract the brain’s dream amnesia mechanism. The audio suppresses the activity and function of a neuron called ’MCH’."

Wen Xiao moved the mouse, pointing to the end of the file:

"This last section is much longer than the one in the previous audio file, taking up over 40% of the total file size. I haven’t decompiled it into readable text yet, so I don’t know what’s in it."

"Can you compare the waveforms of the second and third parts with the ’black box’ from the previous audio file?" Yu Xian asked, an idea striking him.

Wen Xiao glanced at Yu Xian, a little surprised.

"That’s smart. I didn’t even think of that. Let me see..."

With a few keystrokes, she pulled up a comparison chart. She stared at it for a moment, then ran it through a spectrogram analysis software.

"The second part of both audio files is almost identical. This is probably the foundational engine for constructing the dream."

"Almost? So that means there are still some differences?"

Wen Xiao showed Yu Xian the analysis results, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Right. The waveforms are 99% identical, but a few of the sample points are different. I wonder why..."

"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you—this audio file isn’t device-locked. Any device can play it. Could that be the difference?"

"That must be it," Wen Xiao said, realization dawning.

"It seems the TDI login key is just the source file with a few minor details altered based on a device’s audio fingerprint. That’s what locks it so only the bound device can produce the original effect when playing it."

Yu Xian nodded.

"Then what about the third part? Why didn’t the previous login key have it?"

She frowned.

"The third part... looks like it was added later. Its encryption method is different from the earlier sections. It’s like a patch... that was forcefully tacked on."

"Forcefully tacked on? You mean..." Yu Xian seized on the phrase. "Are you saying it’s like a game hack?"

"Exactly. If the official TDI version is a precision instrument, then this part is like a functional module that was crudely welded onto it."

Wen Xiao zoomed in on the seam in the waveform.

"Look here. The waveform’s transition is very unnatural; there’s even a sharp jump. This means whoever wrote this part of the audio didn’t have the source code for the ’black box.’ They brute-forced their own code into it."

’Just as Wen Xiao said. It was exactly as he’d guessed: someone had taken the TDI audio file and added a "crack patch" to it.’

"Since it’s a black box, we can’t tell if there’s any malicious code inside, right...?"

"Correct. The data format of these two segments is completely unknown. It’s like trying to read an English article with only a Chinese dictionary. Even if we could break down the structure, we wouldn’t know what any of the symbols mean."

She sighed.

"I’m flying blind here. I don’t have any reference materials or comparison samples. I have no idea where to even begin."

"Comparison samples... If I could get my hands on other experimental audio files used to suppress the dream amnesia mechanism, would that help you crack this?" Yu Xian asked, thinking of Senior Sister Yiyi’s research.

"Yes. If I could get a similar unencrypted raw audio file, or even just the relevant algorithmic logic, I might be able to reverse-engineer this section’s encryption scheme."

’Unencrypted raw audio...’

’Senior Sister Yiyi’s lab has audio files used for transcranial electrical stimulation, along with the frequency parameters for suppressing MCH neurons.’

"I’ll figure something out," Yu Xian said, getting to his feet.

Wen Xiao froze for a second, unsure what he meant by "something."

Yu Xian checked the time. It was late.

He put the laptop back in his bag, put on his raincoat, and prepared to say goodbye to Wen Xiao and head back to the South District Dormitory.

"Yu Xian," Wen Xiao suddenly called out.

"That TDI login key audio from before... you really experienced it, didn’t you?"

Yu Xian frowned. That was something he had no desire to recall.

’Why is Wen Xiao asking about this?’

’That login key was a gateway to that white hell. He didn’t want anyone close to him to ever go through that kind of suffering.’

’But then again,’ he thought, ’the audio is device-locked. It won’t have any effect if she plays it on her own equipment.’

’Still, he couldn’t let her take that risk.’

"I’m warning you, don’t even think about listening to that audio. Even if you’d most likely forget the dream’s contents in the real world, the suffering you’d experience inside the dream is very real."

"Don’t worry, I won’t," Wen Xiao said with a reassuring smile.

Yu Xian gave her a suspicious look and warned her a few more times before finally saying goodbye and stepping back out into the raging storm.