Reality Programming Association

Chapter 108: Chapter 45: The Gunsmoke of ”Civil War

The stone pot fish was still BUBBLING, its milky-white broth churning, pushing tender slices of fish to the surface before pulling them back under.

Shi Zuozhou had finished his horror story about the ”Midnight Bus,” and Yu Xian had gotten the gist of it.

It was basically the ”scientific explanation” version of that night’s events: Shi Zuozhou mooching Wi-Fi, returning to the dorm, copying the audio file from the optoelectronics major’s room next door, and just falling asleep when Yu Xian pulled him up.

What Yu Xian hadn’t expected, however, was that Old Shi had actually gone and reported it to the police afterward. The police said they had received similar reports from others and were already investigating and escalating the matter. But the local authorities hadn’t received any related notices. Given that they had to act in accordance with the law, there was currently nothing they could do about an audio file that seemed completely harmless and broke no laws.

Shi Zuozhou explained the legal basics his uncle had shared with them. For a criminal case to be opened, there must be evidence of a crime, the need to pursue criminal liability, and it must fall under police jurisdiction. This audio file lacked any illegality or social harm. It was merely the mass distribution of harmless content. With no evidence that it could cause serious consequences, it couldn’t be classified as a ”dangerous method,” and thus, couldn’t trigger criminal proceedings.

Shi Zuozhou said he’d asked his uncle at the time, wasn’t this stuff pornographic?

His uncle told him that under the current legal framework, ”pornographic” has a clear legal definition; it can’t be determined based on personal feelings.

He brought up two objective points: First, the audio contained no suggestive or explicit content, only a few segments of white noise. Second, the lucid dream it guided you to construct only provided a setting, with no specific plot or sexual suggestion. A bus, after all, is a ”common public setting from daily life.”

In short, a listener’s subjective associations can’t be used to retroactively prove the audio itself is obscene, and the law doesn’t make judgments based on subjective feelings.

So, Shi Zuozhou had no choice but to drop it.

Then, after getting Yu Xian’s consent and with Shao Yiyi’s repeated assurances, Shi Zuozhou also told Shao Yiyi about the suicides and the ”substitute” incident.

Of course, Yu Xian didn’t mention the ”smiling” and ”lethargy.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Shi Zuozhou and Shao Yiyi. The main reason was that it also involved his cousin and Dr. Wen Yu, plus the way he had learned about it wasn’t exactly ”conventional.”

Across the table, Shao Yiyi’s mouth was hanging open, her chopsticks frozen in mid-air, her entire body seemingly locked in place.

”So...” Shao Yiyi swallowed hard and lowered her voice.

”You two suspect that the bus audio caused those people to be unable to distinguish between dreams and reality, to the point that they... committed suicide? Something about that doesn’t seem to add up.”

”I haven’t been able to figure it out either.”

Shi Zuozhou picked up a plump piece of fish with his chopsticks, dunked it thoroughly in the dipping sauce, and popped it into his mouth with satisfaction, mumbling indistinctly,

”After Old Yu told me about it last time, I’ve been racking my brains, how could that even work? If it makes people unable to tell dreams from reality, and everyone acts lawlessly in their dreams, then shouldn’t they wake up and go on murder sprees or rob banks?”

He swallowed the fish in his mouth and turned to Yu Xian.

”So why would they commit suicide instead? It can’t be that some ghost in a dream yells ’Go die!’ at you, and you actually go and die, right?”

Shi Zuozhou paused, staring intently into Yu Xian’s eyes.

”And another thing, Old Yu, how do you know all this in such detail?”

The atmosphere at the table froze for a moment. Wen Xiao lowered his head and sipped his tea, pretending not to have heard.

Yu Xian was silent for a few seconds. He picked up the serving chopsticks and placed a piece of fish in everyone’s bowl, thinking all the while.

He hadn’t wanted to tell Shi Zuozhou before because, after experiencing the suffering of the TDI dream, he was afraid his friend would recklessly try it himself. Now that the dangers had been made clear, there was nothing left to hide.

”Because I’ve tried it.” Yu Xian put down his chopsticks, his voice soft.

”That audio... I’ve tried the original version.”

Shi Zuozhou’s eyes went wide as saucers. He broke into a grin and said,

”The original version? Old Yu, you’ve been hogging it all to yourself, huh? And here you were telling me not to listen to it!”

Yu Xian didn’t laugh or speak. Shi Zuozhou’s smile froze on his face.

”Because it’s not some pleasant dream,” Yu Xian said, looking at him coldly.

”The original TDI isn’t set on a bus. It’s a pure white room. No doors, no windows, no time, no space. Nothing.”

In the corner of the restaurant, Yu Xian’s voice was completely at odds with the steamy, lively atmosphere.

He briefly recounted how he had bought an invite code to participate in MIT’s TDI project and his experience of being trapped in that white hell of a dream, including the ”TDI Dream Net Protocol” that he could now recite forwards and backwards.

”I spent ten days and ten nights in that dream, without food, water, or sleep, and I couldn’t wake up. My only task was to recite the user agreement inside ten thousand times, like a broken record. I only woke up after I completed the task.”

Shi Zuozhou stared, his mouth hanging open, not closing it for a long time.

”So that’s... the ’training’? Then the people who committed suicide might have gone through similar torture? This is basically a cyber-prison... How dare they create something like this? Aren’t they afraid of driving people insane?”

”Because, in the original TDI, a normal person forgets the dream’s content.”

Yu Xian looked at Shi Zuozhou. Feeling the atmosphere was too heavy, he tried to lighten it with a joke.

”You know about Meng Po Soup, right? Mine must have been watered down. Something went wrong, and I didn’t forget.”