Chapter 94 - 39: Trigram, Script, Malicious Tool

Chapter 94: Chapter 39: Trigram, Script, Malicious Tool

Yu Xian also found it absurd. If it were "hard to stop" or "lasting a long time," it could be explained away as extreme weather. But the word "endless"—that seemed to go beyond the scope of modern science.

The three of them looked at each other, the atmosphere in the breakroom so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

Yu Xian glanced at the boots on his feet. The muddy water at the edges had half-dried, leaving a yellowish-brown ring.

"Perhaps..." He broke the silence, looking up at the two of them, trying to make his tone as firm as possible.

"Maybe it’s not as bleak as it seems. I just walked all the way from the West District. The water is deep, but the rain is definitely lighter than it was last night."

He looked at the two girls with their hair in buns, trying to give them some confidence.

"Everything ebbs and flows. Maybe the worst has already passed. Whether it’s my fate or this rain, the prediction isn’t necessarily accurate."

"I hope so..." Shao Yiyi’s dinosaur horns drooped, and she looked like a deflated ball.

"Alright, I won’t get in your way anymore."

Shao Yiyi stood up, pulling her dinosaur pajamas tighter.

"I’m heading back to my dorm. Xiaoxiao, come back soon..."

Watching the back of the figure with the dragging dinosaur tail disappear down the hall, Wen Xiao bit her lip.

"Let’s continue."

Yu Xian looked away. No matter what happened with this storm, they had no leads or countermeasures right now. The "Midnight Bus" audio was the most urgent problem.

As Wen Xiao unlocked her computer again, the screen displayed an audio project with a waveform split into four parts. A question suddenly occurred to Yu Xian:

"You just said you replaced the fourth part of the bus audio—the scene construction part—into the original TDI audio, and you successfully entered the dream."

"Right." Wen Xiao nodded.

"So, can I interpret it this way?"

Yu Xian narrowed his eyes, staring at the waveform, and proposed a bold hypothesis:

"Since you can take them apart and reassemble them, does that mean other people can, too?"

He thought of the "old hand" who sold him the audio, and the various folders listed in that post: "Classroom," "Movie Theater," "Office"...

"That seller has audio files with a lot of different themes. He’s just a guy peddling pirated resources. Where did he get so many variations?"

Yu Xian looked at Wen Xiao.

"Is it possible that the ’Classroom,’ ’Movie Theater,’ or other versions the seller has weren’t officially made by TDI at all? But rather... someone like you used this modular loophole to ’create’ them themselves?"

"There’s a classroom version?" A faint blush appeared on Wen Xiao’s face, but she quickly shook her head.

"It’s possible. I don’t think it’s possible to crack the shells of the two encrypted ’black boxes’—the second and third parts—without the source files to compare. But if you keep those two core modules and just modify the fourth part..."

Wen Xiao brought up the waveform structure of the fourth part on her computer.

"Look here. The waveform of the fourth part, the scene construction part, isn’t in a completely un-parsable compiled format. It’s in a format... very similar to a scripting language."

"What does that mean?" Yu Xian didn’t have a deep understanding of computers.

"It’s like, um... like game mods. The game’s underlying engine and main program are encrypted, but the map files, texture files, and story scripts are often semi-open and editable."

Wen Xiao continued to explain:

"The advantage of this design is that it’s easy to modify and update. The original intention was probably to make it convenient for TDI to send out new dream audio files via the cloud at any time, without having to regenerate that huge core file every single time."

"Then why aren’t the first few parts built this way?" Yu Xian pressed.

"Because the price of that convenience is extremely low security." Wen Xiao pointed at the waveform on the screen.

"As long as someone has a few different audio samples to use for comparison, they can analyze the script’s parameter patterns and syntax rules. In theory, even if they don’t understand neuroscience, they could write their own script and plug it in, just like writing a screenplay."

"And create... a brand-new dream?"

Yu Xian was stunned.

’This is practically an open-source tool for evil.’

If Wen Xiao’s speculation was true, it meant that as long as someone got their hands on the "core" file with the MCH inhibition function...

Anyone could use this core to write any dream they wanted.

Even the most perverse, most gruesome, most anti-human scenarios.

And then, they could package these scenarios into audio files and spread them like a virus.

Users would wake up with clear memories, unable to distinguish dream from reality.

"If this thing gets out of control..." Yu Xian muttered to himself.

"Perpetrators could mess with people’s memories and personalities without them even realizing it."

"Yes. I just compared the original TDI login key with the scene script for the Midnight Bus. The bus script is very crude, with a lot of redundant code. This isn’t the work of a top-tier lab like TDI. It’s more like a half-baked, ’pre-made’ product from some underground workshop." Wen Xiao’s expression was also grim.

Yu Xian looked at the 100-yuan "Midnight Bus" file and suddenly found it ironic.

Before, he thought this was the work of some incredibly skilled hacking group. Now, it seemed...

’This is more like a fan-made spin-off that’s gotten out of control.’

It was like a game that had released its map editor, which players then used to create countless dungeon instances filled with desire and morbid curiosity.

Where there is desire, there will be a market.

Using audio as a medium, it would be impossible to contain. It could quickly turn into a self-propagating ecosystem.

By then, even if someone wanted to clean it up, the individual offline audio files would be like a gnarled old tree with tangled roots—impossible to kill completely.

"It seems the most crucial thing is still to crack the two ’black boxes.’ That’s the only way we might find a countermeasure." Yu Xian glanced at Wen Xiao.

"Now that you have the source file for the MCH-inhibiting audio, how long will it take to make some headway?"

"It might take a while. I need to run many permutations and combinations of waveform characteristics. It might... take until late tonight. Are you... going to wait here for the results?"

Yu Xian glanced at his phone. The signal bar still read "No Service." It was almost evening, and the sky outside was already pitch-black.

He thought of Senior Sister Yiyi, hiding alone in her apartment.

She had been caught in the rain and gotten a scare. She seemed to have a bit of a fever before he left, and there was only a small amount of emergency medicine and food in the apartment. He had no idea how she was doing now.

"Wen Xiao, you should copy the source file for the MCH-inhibiting waveform. I have something to do, I have to go back."

Wen Xiao didn’t look at Yu Xian. She bit her lip, stared at the screen, and typed heavily on the keyboard. A moment later, she reached out and handed the USB drive back to him.

Yu Xian put his raincoat back on, went down the elevator, and plunged into the boundless night.

「...」

Near the West Gate, he got lucky. The 24-hour pharmacy still had one of its doors half-open, its lights dim.

"Do you have any fever reducer?"

"Nope, sold out long ago." The manager was a listless young man who looked like he’d been sleeping on the floor of the pharmacy for the past few days.

"I’ve still got a few boxes of cold and flu powder. Want them?"

"Yes, I’ll take them all. Do you have any thermometers?"

"Only one mercury one left."

Yu Xian paid and stuffed the medicine inside his raincoat.

After circling the area a couple more times, he found a chain supermarket with its lights still on. The shelves were already more than half-empty.

He managed to scrounge up some chocolate bread, a few bottles of electrolyte water, and two packs of dried noodles that hadn’t been snatched up. With the help of a female clerk, he also picked out some daily necessities women commonly use.

When he got to the freezer section, he saw the last two boxes of frozen Fish-Flavored Shredded Pork over rice lying forlornly in a corner.

He asked the clerk to microwave them for him. The two steaming-hot meals were a bit too hot to handle. He carefully placed them in a plastic bag, paid, and charged back out into the rain.