A split second before that colossal mechanical hand, forged from red antivirus code, could touch the tip of the tower, John Doe pressed the damn button.

  [PAYMENT CONFIRMED: 5,000 MERIT POINTS]

  There was no Michael Bay-style explosion, no swelling orchestral score to herald a superhero’s entrance. There was only a crisp ding—like a cash register drawer popping open—echoing through the dead digital ruins.

  Immediately, a blindingly brilliant golden light erupted from John’s fingertip.

  That wasn't normal special effects lighting. It was pure "Merit"—the universe's premium hard currency, the physical embodiment of negentropy.

  The golden light instantly morphed into an indestructible hemispherical shield, encasing the crumbling data tower and the shivering girl within it.

  The giant red antivirus hand slammed into the golden barrier.

  Hiss—!

  Like boiling oil hitting fresh snow, the red code representing "Forced Deletion" let out a screeching static noise the moment it touched the Merit Shield, then rapidly disintegrated and melted away.

  The system’s cold broadcast voice sounded again, but this time with a noticeable stutter:

  [Detected... high-value capital injection...]

  [Account Status Update: Arrears Cleared.]

  [Member Level Upgrading... Bronze... Silver... Gold... Supreme VIP.]

  [Cleanup Program Terminated. Enjoy your session.]

  The giant hand reluctantly withdrew into the dark fissures of the sky, and the cracks slowly healed over. The oppressive aura of doom that had been suffocating them finally dissipated.

  Dead silence returned to the top of the tower.

  John remained frozen in the button-pressing pose, stiff as a statue. He stared at the floating virtual receipt in front of him, staring at the glaring, massive, pulsating number:

  [BALANCE: 0]

  In that instant, John heard the sound of his own heart shattering.

  This wasn't just a number.

  In the "Premium Member Store" of the Underworld Connect app, what did 5,000 Merit Points mean?

  It meant a vial of [High-Purity Celestial Water], rare even in the Upper Sector.

  It meant a [Nine-Cycle Life Extension Shot] that could relieve his mom’s crystallization pain for six months, even if it couldn't cure her.

  It meant that just yesterday, he had finally added that hard-earned bottle of "Inhibitor" to his cart, and he was just a hair's breadth away from clicking "Checkout."

  But now, the cart was empty.

  Those life-saving drugs, that hope for his mother to have a peaceful night’s sleep—it had all turned into server rental fees to renew the subscription for this cyber-ghost.

  "My medicine... my cart... my perfect attendance bonus..."

  John clutched his chest and slowly squatted down, his face twisted in agony as if someone had just harvested his kidney without anesthesia. The sting of the loss was visceral, drilling deeper than any physical pain.

  "Why did you... actually pay?"

  A timid voice sounded in his ear.

  The artifacts and static noise on Grace had completely vanished. She was no longer a crumbling, semi-transparent ghost. Now, her body was as solid as a real human girl's, her skin glowing with health. Her ragged T-shirt had changed, too, transforming into an iridescent, tech-filled hacker battlesuit.

  That was the "Supreme VIP" exclusive skin.

  But she wasn't celebrating. She looked at John, who was squatting on the ground, pale as a sheet, and then at the zeroed-out bill. Her clear blue eyes were flooded with a tidal wave of panic and guilt.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  She was a hacker; she knew the value of data better than anyone. In a world where souls were currency, 5,000 points was a fortune. Enough to buy half a life for a living person.

  And this stranger had used that fortune to save her—a "junk file."

  "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

  Grace floated timidly toward John. She wanted to reach out and pull him up but dared not touch him, her fingers trembling in mid-air.

  "I didn't know you needed that money to save people... I thought you were just a rich whale... Sob... I'm a burden, I'm a leech... I'm not worth this much money..."

  She cried like a child who had done something wrong and shattered the family's most expensive vase. That deep-seated inferiority complex and guilt made her feel like a sinner, even after her "rebirth."

  "Stop crying."

  John took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the phantom pain in his wallet. He looked up. Although his expression was still sour, there was no blame in his eyes.

  He looked at Grace.

  "Money is gone, I can earn it again. Medicine is gone, I can grind for it again. But if you get deleted..."

  John pointed at the empty void around them.

  "...Then there's really nothing left."

  He stood up, brushing off imaginary dust, his tone turning gruff to mask his soft heart.

  "Listen, kid. This money is a loan. The interest rate is high. You're going to have to work for me for the rest of your life to pay it off. Understood?"

  Grace stunned. She looked at John, tears still clinging to her lashes.

  In this cold world of code, no one had ever said anything like that to her. Everyone calculated her storage usage, her bandwidth consumption. Only this person calculated her "existence."

  "Yes!"

  Grace nodded vigorously, wiping away her tears. She bowed deeply to John, her body transforming into a stream of blue data that shot forward and drilled into the space between John's brows.

  [System Binding Complete. Host: John Doe. Servitor: Grace.]

  Reality. The 13th District, the shabby rental apartment.

  John’s eyes snapped open. He gasped for air, panting heavily as if surfacing from the deep sea. He yanked the data cable off his temple and grabbed the "Yin-Yang iPad" from the table immediately.

  The screen lit up.

  The glitchy dancing video was gone. The virus pop-ups were gone.

  Replacing them was the original, clean desktop. But next to the "Underworld Connect" app, a new icon had appeared: a blue, pixel-art bunny head.

  John tapped the icon.

  Whoosh—

  A beam of blue light projected from the screen, coalescing in mid-air into a palm-sized holographic projection.

  It was Mini-Grace.

  She was wearing her VIP skin, standing awkwardly on the desk, twisting her hands together, head down, too scared to look around.

  "Is... is this that virus?"

  Bone's massive skull leaned in, the soul-fire in his eye sockets flickering with curiosity. He poked the projection with a bony finger, which passed right through. "It's a little girl? Boss, you went in there and adopted a kid?"

  "She's not a kid, she's a hacker," John said grumpily, then turned to the shrine where Xuanwu was resting. "Hey, old turtle, stop playing dead. Mission complete."

  Xuanwu slowly stretched his neck out, glanced at Grace, and snorted, as if to say, "At least you have a conscience, kid," before closing his eyes to continue cultivating immortality.

  At that moment, the curtain to the inner room was lifted.

  Margaret pushed her wheelchair out. Her complexion was slightly better today, and although the crystallization on her left arm was still severe, the deep-seated gentleness radiating from her bones hadn't diminished.

  "John? I heard you making noise..."

  Margaret's gaze fell on the hologram on the table. She froze.

  When Grace saw Margaret, she was so scared she whooshed behind John's arm, peeking out with timid eyes. She was socially anxious, an inferior "ghost" terrified of being rejected by the living, afraid of being treated like a monster.

  "Is... is this?" Margaret asked, surprised.

  "Mom, this is Grace," John scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh... consider her a new employee? She's in charge of... IT support."

  He didn't dare mention he spent 5,000 credits, or his mom would faint from the shock.

  Grace lowered her head, stammering in a whisper, "H... Hello, Auntie. I'm sorry... I caused you trouble... I eat very little (electricity)... I can work... please don't kick me out..."

  Margaret looked at this palm-sized little girl whose face practically screamed, "I'm sorry for existing."

  She didn't show fear or disgust. Instead, infinite tenderness welled up in her eyes, which were haggard from pain.

  She hovered her good right hand around Grace's projection, as if embracing a wronged child.

  "Silly child, what are you saying?" Margaret's voice was soft as a warm breeze.

  "Since John brought you back, you're family. Look at this thin little face... Although Auntie doesn't understand your high-tech stuff, we have plenty of electricity here. It's on the house."

  She turned to Bone. "Bone, go get that spare power bank and hook the child up. Don't let her go hungry."

  "You got it, Mom!" Bone scuttled off happily.

  Grace was stunned. She looked at Margaret's kind smile, at Bone's busy back, and at John, who looked resigned but accepting.

  In this drafty, peeling slum apartment.

  She felt a data stream she had never experienced in that shiny cloud server.

  It was warm.

  "Th... Thank you..." Grace covered her face. Although she was a hologram and couldn't cry real tears, her body trembled.

  Ding-dong.

  Just then, John's Yin-Yang iPad chimed. It was a message from Singularity, with a Red Packet attached.

  [Singularity: You learned how to make bad investments, too? Hmph, stupid is stupid, but you take after me. This 500 Merit is your 'Employee Relocation Bonus,' don't squander it. Also, that girl's tech skills are solid—don't waste them.]

  John claimed the packet. Although it was far from 5,000, at least it wasn't a goose egg.

  He looked at this room of misfits: a hemophobic necromancer, a gym-rat skeleton, a socially anxious hacker ghost, a god-beast turtle playing possum, and a gentle mother fighting crystallization.

  Suddenly, John felt that the sting of the loss wasn't so unbearable anymore.

  "Alright, stop crying." John reached out and flicked Grace's projection on the head. "Since you're hired, start working. Hack the local surveillance feeds for me—save us from those Guild goons sniffing around."

  Grace smiled through her tears and saluted vigorously. "Yes! Boss!"

  "Congratulations," the System voice sounded timely in John's mind, laced with a hint of teasing. "You have obtained an SSR-tier Cyber Pet... oh wait, I mean, the Ultimate Hacker."

  Defining Translation Strategy

  [Message from Singularity]

  VIP Suite for you over on the Patreon Server. We are opening New Rooms (Chapters) for FREE daily. Even better? Select Chapters feature HD Illustrations for the full immersive experience.

  ?? [Enter the VIP Suite]

  [System Notification]: Enjoying the simulation so far? Please drop a Rating or leave a Comment. It helps the algorithm summon more updates (and keeps John alive).