Online Game: My Decay Drives the Entire Server Crazy

Chapter 107 The Elite School Board of Directors’ Revenge Turns into a Financial Fate Turn that Ends in ZeroGhost’s red marker had been blinking on the screen for three full days. On the morning of the fourth day, what was bound to happen finally arrived.

Lin Ye was eating breakfast on the first floor of the studio. The soup dumplings and soy milk Fatty Wang had bought from outside took up half the coffee table. Su Qinghan was beside him auditing this week’s orders on her computer when she suddenly received a call from Old Sun, the property manager. Old Sun’s voice was kept very low, as if he were hiding in a corner to make a secret call: ”Brother Ye, don’t open your windows upstairs for now. Two groups of people just arrived downstairs. One group is wearing market regulation uniforms, and the other is from tax. There are also a few men in black suits standing across the street without moving. They look like some big boss’s private bodyguards to me.”

Lin Ye bit into a soup dumpling, and the juice splashed onto his chin. He wiped it with a tissue, stood up, and walked to the window to take a look. Three enforcement vehicles were parked in front of the main entrance of the Unscrupulous Business Center. Five uniformed people were gathered at the front desk talking to the receptionist, their expressions as serious as if they were investigating a major international case. Inside the black Mercedes business van across the street sat several burly men in black suits. The windows were tinted dark, but Ghost’s surveillance probes had long since penetrated that film to capture the interior—four bodyguards, one driver, and a middle-aged man sitting in the back row looking down at his phone. It was precisely Board Member Li of the city’s Yinghua International School.

”Ghost, check who authorized today’s raid.” Lin Ye pulled the curtains halfway shut and walked back to the coffee table to continue eating his dumplings.

Ghost’s fingers tapped on the keyboard for a few seconds, and the internal task distribution records of the market regulation and tax departments were pulled up. The dispatchers for both inspection tasks were at the same level—a deputy official in charge at the district level. The reason for the task was a real-name report from the public, alleging that a certain internet consulting company within the Unscrupulous Business Center was suspected of operating beyond its scope and committing tax evasion. The whistleblower’s name was hidden in the system, but Ghost followed the task number up three levels of approval nodes and found the landline call records of that deputy official’s office. Within the last week, there had been six calls between this landline and the principal’s office of Yinghua International School, all during working hours and for significant durations.

”The source has been found. The connection at Yinghua goes directly to the secretary of the deputy official in charge, bypassing normal procedures to dispatch a raid. That Board Member Li has deeper connections in the city’s officialdom than in his real estate circles; his brother-in-law is the vice chairman of the Municipal Federation of Industry and Commerce.”

Lin Ye stuffed the last dumpling into his mouth and stood up after wiping his hands. ”Let them check. Su Qinghan, take out all the industrial and commercial tax licenses and arrange them in order. Ghost, print out all the tax payment certificates, social security payment records, software copyright certificates, and anti-fraud app cooperation agreements from all of last year and the first half of this year and stack them on the table. If they want to check, let them check their fill all at once.”

Five minutes later, the five uniformed people were led by the receptionist into the meeting room on the first floor of Que De Studio. The leader was a market regulation section chief named Cui. Holding a stack of inspection checklists, he scanned the room upon entering. The walls were covered with silk banners and letters of thanks; the yellow banners with red lettering were dazzling under the fluorescent lights. The signature on every banner featured a real name and phone number—some were sent by individuals, some by community neighborhood committees, and several were from police stations and sub-district offices. Section Chief Cui flipped through a few banners and saw the dates on the back—the earliest was from three months ago, and the latest was from three days ago. The timeline was consistent, the sources were clear, and there were no signs of forgery.

Su Qinghan laid all the licenses on the table. The duplicate business license, the value-added telecommunications business license, the network culture business license, and the software copyright registration certificates—each was neatly laminated and arranged by category. The photocopies were bound into four stacks, each more than a finger thick. Beside her, Ghost spread out the tax payment certificates and social security records, with all data being cross-referenced in real-time with the electronic tax bureau page on a mobile phone, without the slightest discrepancy.

After finishing with the licenses and checking the account books, Section Chief Cui took off his glasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead, whispering a few words to the tax official next to him. The tax official pulled up all the billing records from the past six months and reviewed them. Every transaction had clear project notes and corresponding tax vouchers. All income sources for Que De Studio were crystal clear—game boosting service fees, internet security consulting fees, and anti-fraud technical cooperation service fees. Every item was within the scope of their business license, and every item was fully taxed.

”Mr. Lin, no problems were found with your licenses or accounts.” Section Chief Cui closed the inspection checklist and stuffed it into his briefcase, his tone shifting from the official business-like manner at the door to a slightly embarrassed politeness. ”This was a routine verification based on a report. Since everything is in compliance, we won’t disturb you further. If you need assistance in the future, you can contact us at any time.”

Lin Ye smiled as he saw the group to the door, never mentioning Yinghua International School once throughout the process. After the enforcement vehicles had all driven away, he closed the door and turned to look at Ghost’s screen—the black Mercedes across the street was still there. Ghost had already pulled up the identity information of everyone in the car. The four bodyguards were all veterans employed by a security firm registered as a property management company under Board Member Li’s name. The middle-aged man looking at his phone, Board Member Li, was currently frowning and sending a WeChat message. Ghost intercepted a real-time image of his phone screen; the person he was chatting with was none other than Section Chief Cui, who had just left dejectedly.

The chat record was very short. Li sent ”The result?”, and Section Chief Cui replied with ”Everything compliant.” Li did not reply again.

”His first step was to have the industrial, commercial, and tax authorities check us. Since they couldn’t find anything, he’s preparing for step two.” Lin Ye walked to the window and looked down through a gap in the curtains. ”Ghost, check the real-time status of all companies and assets under Li’s name, including those he controls, those held by proxies, and those registered under his relatives’ names.”

Ghost was already prepared. He projected Li’s asset structure map onto the TV wall, listing dozens of companies covering real estate, education, property management, catering, and retail. The largest entity was a large commercial complex in the city’s suburbs, which accounted for the bulk of his personal assets. Ghost pulled up all the recent operating data for these companies and found that the lease renewal rate for the main shops in the commercial complex had been only sixty percent in recent months. Three core catering brands had already moved out, and the average transaction value at the supermarket was also declining. The overall operation was on the verge of a slight loss. The reason Li cared so much about his son being unrestrained at school was largely because his assets were no longer sufficient for him to squander connections as freely as he had in previous years.

”Perfect, I don’t even need to work hard to create a breakthrough. His commercial entity is already on a downward slope; I just need to give it a push.” Lin Ye took out his phone and opened the Cross-Dimensional Energy Sync Control Program, locking the target onto Board Member Li himself and the capital flow nodes of all his associated enterprises. He clicked on the Fortune Zeroing skill template—when this template was last used on President Fan of Dingsheng Group, the energy consumption records showed that the effect on targets with personal assets exceeding ten billion would be discounted, requiring supplementary chain lawsuits and regulatory intervention to fully suppress. However, Li’s asset scale was far inferior to President Fan’s, so he didn’t need to go through all that trouble.

Skill parameters popped up page by page. The trigger condition was set to be associated with malicious business competition, power interference in administrative law enforcement, or retaliatory hiring of thugs—this way, if Li simply operated normally without any retaliatory actions, Fortune Zeroing would not trigger. But once he used bodyguards or continued to use connections to exert pressure, the skill would automatically take effect. The effect was set as the withdrawal of funds from all investment projects, the termination of contracts by partners, and bank loans being called in early by risk control systems. The method to deactivate it was for Board Member Li himself to take the initiative to come to Que De Studio to apologize in person and compensate the injured party for all losses.

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”Add an associated protection clause.” Lin Ye wrote in the remarks column, ”Any legal rights of Auntie Liu and her son Xiaoming—including employment, school enrollment, and personal safety—if infringed upon in any form by Board Member Li or his affiliates, the Decay rate of Fortune Zeroing will double.”

Ghost reviewed the task configuration, confirmed the logical links were all closed-loop, and then pushed the confirmation page to Su Qinghan. Su Qinghan carefully checked the parameters from beginning to end and signed her name in the signature field. Lin Ye clicked confirm, and a green prompt popped up on the screen: Fortune Zeroing is now active, with thirty-seven affected nodes.

He had just put down his phone when the door of the Mercedes van across the street suddenly opened.

Four bodyguards climbed out of the car. One of them opened the rear door, and Board Member Li stepped out. He hesitated on the spot for a moment, looked up at the third-floor window of the Unscrupulous Business Center that was half-covered by curtains, and then said a few words to the bodyguards. The four bodyguards split into two groups; one remained across the street, while the other three dispersed and walked into the passages on either side of the pedestrian street, blocking both exits of the Unscrupulous Business Center. They were not carrying weapons—at least none were visible to the naked eye—but their stance and positioning were professional, clearly executing some form of intimidation order. Board Member Li did not go upstairs himself; he sat back in the car, the windows were tightly shut, and the Mercedes engine was still running.

Standing behind the curtains, Lin Ye saw this scene clearly. Ghost switched a surveillance feed into the internal system of a certain commercial real estate project and pulled up a set of synchronized data—at the exact moment the bodyguards took their positions, the WeChat group for the investment promotion department of a certain commercial complex exploded. The managers of three anchor stores simultaneously sent messages requesting early termination of their contracts, citing a six-month decline in mall traffic and an inability to reach an agreement on lease renewal terms. Loan officers from four banks replied in the group, stating that their risk control departments had notified them to re-evaluate the commercial complex’s operating status, and the disbursement of new loans would be temporarily frozen until the evaluation was complete.

Board Member Li’s phone in the Mercedes started ringing incessantly. First, the Investment Promotion Director called, then the Vice President of Finance, followed by a long message from the Office Director. Ghost intercepted his phone screen; the message list was full of red exclamation marks—bank risk control notifications, merchant termination letters, and project cooperation termination agreements. He opened and read them one by one, his fingers beginning to tremble.

He picked up his phone and called Section Chief Cui, but no one answered. He then called his brother-in-law at the Federation of Industry and Commerce. The other party answered, but his tone was subtle, saying, ”There is nothing I can do if the bank won’t release loans for your project. The risk control system is a hard rule that no one can bypass.” Board Member Li asked if he could find the branch president for a special approval, but his brother-in-law was silent for several seconds before saying, ”I used up all the connections I could lend you last time. It’s not about whether I’m willing to help now; it’s that the bank seems to be targeted by something—someone is reporting your companies for suspected illegal extraction of operating loans.”

After hanging up, Board Member Li leaned over from the back seat and called the four bodyguards, telling them to retreat immediately. The bodyguards ran back across the street, the Mercedes door closed, the tires made a muffled sound on the asphalt, and it accelerated away.

That evening, while organizing the backend logs, Su Qinghan discovered new data. Board Member Li’s assets had shrunk by more than forty percent in the past eight hours. The lease renewal rate for anchor stores in the commercial complex had dropped directly from sixty percent to less than thirty percent. All four partner banks had issued loan collection notices, and the collateral for one of the matured development loans had already been frozen by the bank. Ghost went through his bank transactions and found that the liquid funds under his personal name had almost hit zero, and even the payroll account for his bodyguard company had been automatically deducted for overdue loan interest.

”He only has one last breath left now,” Ghost said, projecting the data summary table onto the screen. ”The semester revenue from Yinghua International School hasn’t arrived yet. Tuition is collected every six months; he has to hold on until next semester to get the cash flow. But his commercial complex can’t last that long.”

Lin Ye said they wouldn’t have to wait that long.

The next afternoon, Board Member Li appeared in the lobby on the first floor of the Unscrupulous Business Center. He was still wearing the same custom suit, but the collar was loose, his face was ashen, and he had dark circles under his eyes—a completely different person from the high-and-mighty figure sitting in the back of the Mercedes last time. Behind him followed his son—the school bully who had been sanctioned by the behavioral constraint skill. The boy kept his head down, not daring to look at anyone. His school uniform sleeves were pulled long, covering half of his hands, and the expression on his face was no longer arrogant, but fearful.

Board Member Li stood in front of Lin Ye for a long time before finally bowing. When he spoke, his voice was very soft, no longer like the real estate developer who had slammed the table demanding a medical examination previously: ”Mr. Lin, I brought my son here today, firstly to apologize on his behalf to Xiaoming and all the classmates he has bullied, and secondly, I personally apologize to you and your studio. I should not have used my connections to audit your accounts, and even less should I have hired people to block your door. I accept all compensation conditions.”

He took a document out of his briefcase and placed it on the coffee table. One was a donation commitment letter to build an on-campus basketball court and an anti-bullying monitoring system for the No. 3 Middle School where Xiaoming attended, with an amount of one million. The other was a settlement agreement, promising to personally fund the establishment of an anti-school bullying public welfare fund, with an initial capital injection of one million, to help students and their families who have been harmed by school bullying.

Lin Ye was in no rush to sign. He handed the two documents to Su Qinghan to review item by item, while simultaneously calling Xiaoming’s mother and putting it on speakerphone. ”Auntie Liu, the school bully who previously bullied Xiaoming and his father are here with me now. They are willing to apologize publicly and are also willing to donate a basketball court and an anti-bullying fund to the school. Do you think these terms are acceptable?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for three seconds. Auntie Liu’s voice was much steadier than during their last call: ”Mr. Lin, the school will decide on the basketball court and the fund. I only want one thing—make that child say sorry to my son in front of the whole school. Not just for my son’s sake, but so that in the future, no other child will have to pretend to be sick and be afraid to go to school like my son.”

Lin Ye agreed, hung up the phone, and turned his gaze toward the boy who had been keeping his head down the whole time. ”You heard that. Your apology is not reading a script, and it’s not something your parents forced you to say. You need to stand in front of the whole school and say it with your own mouth.”

The boy’s shoulders trembled, and a few seconds later, he nodded vigorously. When he looked up, his eyes were very red, but his voice did not tremble: ”I will. I want to go.”

That evening, Xiaoming sent Lin Ye a voice message. He said that during the flag-raising ceremony on Monday, three students stood under the national flag and said ”sorry” to the whole school over the microphone. He said that at that moment, standing in the class line, his fists, which he had been clenching for months, could finally relax.

After listening to the voice message, Lin Ye placed his phone on the table, leaned back in his chair, and stretched. Su Qinghan was flipping through the order statistics for the week nearby, saying that the new orders received by the school anti-bullying hotline were sixty percent lower than last week, but the consultation volume for another business segment of the studio—workplace bullying rectification—had tripled.

”Orders are already booked until next month.” She handed over the tablet and chuckled softly, ”Brother Ye, this protection money business of yours is almost becoming a nationwide chain.”

Before Lin Ye could answer, Ghost suddenly stood up from the corner. He projected a new screen onto the TV wall, displaying cracked text from a series of encrypted communications. The sender was from a long-term suite in a high-end hotel in the city, and the recipient was an overseas encrypted email address. He pointed to one of the messages for Lin Ye to see—the person sending the message claimed to know the situation of Lin Ye’s studio like the back of their hand and was willing to trade intelligence for cooperation with the Black Crow Consortium.

Ghost filled in a note in red font in the IP ownership column of the sender: This entity shares the same internal network firewall with a commercial sector under Su Qinghan’s family.