Reality Programming Association

Chapter 73: Chapter 30: ”Ragtag Army

Yu Xian was stunned. He subconsciously glanced at the system time.

’Had it even been thirty seconds since the post appeared and he clicked on it?’

’It was only a few seconds. Ten at most.’

In ten seconds, a brand-new post had been instantly deleted right before his eyes.

’Was it a system keyword filter?’

’I didn’t get to see the body of the post, so I don’t know what it said. But in the title, was it ”audio” or ”erotic dream” that was the blocked keyword?’

Undeterred, he quickly swiped down to refresh. ’If there’s a system-wide filter, then there must be more than one person posting this stuff.’

Sure enough, just thirty seconds later, another similar post popped up.

This time, the title was more cryptic, clearly trying to evade censorship with a string of abbreviations: ”Selling hookup tracks, 100 a pop, custom orders welcome.”

He clicked on it. As expected, it wasn’t deleted instantly this time. The body of the post was just a single image.

The image loaded, revealing a list of a few folders. The folder names were things like ”Private Tutor” and ”Public Bus.”

The last folder was named ”Latest Cracked Audio Tracks,” followed by a satellite emoji and a string of numbers.

Yu Xian instantly took a screenshot. The satellite was obviously a stand-in for a chat app; this forum was clearly just a channel for the seller to funnel customers.

He closed the image, intending to check for comments from other users, but when he refreshed the page, the post had once again changed to ”Deleted.”

Ignoring the post, he quickly switched back to his chat app, searched for the user, and sent a friend request.

As he waited for the request to be accepted, Yu Xian’s heart began to race. If these so-called ”cracked audio tracks” were really related to the TDI project, it would mean two things:

’First, has the device-binding technology, which I thought was some kind of black magic, already been cracked by some underground expert?’

’Second, has the TDI project, with its increasingly expensive invite codes, already become a mass-produced, cheap, and even replicable entertainment product circulating on the Black Market?’

A chat bubble popped up. The friend request had been accepted. The user’s nickname was ”Old Driver Give Me a Lift,” and their avatar was a tacky landscape photo.

Before Yu Xian could even type, the other person sent a voice message.

It was a clip of heavily accented, non-standard Mandarin, spoken with an unplaceable accent and punctuated by intermittent static.

”No chitchat, no free trials. Payment first, then you get the goods. 100 a track. Which series ya want?”

Yu Xian chose his words carefully and replied:

”This is my first time buying. Does this really work? How exactly do you use it?”

The ”Old Driver” seemed very impatient with such a newbie question:

”Are you just trying to waste my time? You want it or not?” After saying this, he sent a video that was a few dozen seconds long.

Yu Xian opened it. It was an AI-generated explainer video about the ”lucid dream” experience.

He watched it with forced patience, then typed:

”I already know about that. I’m asking what your audio files have to do with lucid dreaming.”

The other person replied instantly: ”Put on your headphones, listen to it following my instructions, and you’ll enter a super-realistic lucid dream. You can do whatever you want in there. Get it, bro?”

Yu Xian stared at the words on the screen, a cold sweat breaking out on his back. ’Listen to an audio file... a realistic dream... Isn’t that exactly what the TDI project is?’

’But... why isn’t an invite code needed?’

Yu Xian asked:

”Don’t you need to register an account for this? Or enter an invite code or something?”

The other person sent a sweating-face emoji:

”Bro, this isn’t some sketchy website. It’s just an MP3 file. What do you need an account for? If you wanna buy, transfer the money. I’ll send you the file, you listen, and that’s it. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

Yu Xian stared at the text, his mind in turmoil.

’No invite code?’

’You can just listen to it directly?’

’Then what about the ”audio-fingerprint binding technology” Wen Xiao figured out last night? That mechanism that required the local device’s MAC address to work... had it been rendered useless by this 100-yuan knockoff?’

’How could that be possible?’

’Was the TDI project’s encryption just a paper tiger?’

Seeing that he still hadn’t replied, the seller added:

”So, you want it or not? Let me tell you, my ’Public Bus’ version is the latest one. You can even see the headlights of the cars outside the window, and you can hear the horns perfectly clearly.”

Something clicked in Yu Xian’s head. He felt like he had missed something. His fingers trembled as he typed:

”When you wake up from the dream... do you still remember what happened in it?”

The other person quickly replied with a voice message, his tone tinged with mockery:

”I’m tellin’ ya, bro, are you stupid or something? If you forget everything when it’s over, what’s the point of buying it? Wouldn’t that just be throwing your 100 yuan down the drain? Don’t worry. You’ll remember every last detail. I guarantee you’ll be savoring the memory for days!”