Reality Programming Association

Chapter 132: Chapter 54: ”Rumor Protocol

”If this is a university-organized evacuation, why is only the School of Physics moving? Even if the rumors are targeting physics experiments, once chaos breaks out, who would care about those specifics? Don’t the key first-floor laboratories of other severely damaged schools need to be relocated as well?” Yu Xian asked several questions in a row, leaving Shi Zuozhou temporarily speechless.

”True... For a single research group, the core equipment usually consists of just a few precision instruments, plus maybe a few servers and some documentation.” Shi Zuozhou looked at the scene downstairs. Four or five heavy box trucks were lined up in a row, with more vehicles queuing up behind them waiting to enter. He swallowed hard. ”How is this just one research group? They’re probably close to emptying out both the main building and the laboratory building of the School of Physics, aren’t they?”

”Yeah,” Yu Xian murmured. ”Why is there so much to move? Where did all this equipment come from?”

Unless... the team evacuating was absolutely not just Professor Shu’s.

Professor Gao Jiguo’s dying words on the blackboard floated into his mind: ”I am guilty. I have failed all of humanity.” Professor Gao was dead. Now, Professor Shu—who was in the same field and the same research institute—was hastily evacuating on the first working afternoon after the torrential rain had slightly subsided?

The most logical conclusion was that they knew something. They knew what was about to happen here, or rather, they knew that something much deeper was approaching. Something that even these people, who possessed humanity’s most cutting-edge technology, could not withstand.

So they had abandoned this place. It was like a sinking leviathan where the captain and first mate quietly lowered the lifeboats, taking the nautical charts and compasses with them, yet leaving the rest of the crew on deck to maintain a facade of peace and prosperity.

”Old Yu?” Shi Zuozhou patted him on the shoulder.

”I’m fine.” Yu Xian snapped back to reality, took a deep breath, and suppressed those thoughts.

Shi Zuozhou suddenly spoke in a mysterious tone. ”I get it. Could this be...”

”Be what?” Yu Xian looked at him.

”The JCU Leather Factory has gone bankrupt, and Professor Shu has run off with his sister-in-law!” Shi Zuozhou looked immensely proud of himself, clearly satisfied with his terrible joke. ”Don’t overthink it, Old Yu. If the sky falls, the tall guys will hold it up.”

Yu Xian chuckled along with him. ”Alright, let’s go. Time to eat.”

Outside the laboratory building, a fine drizzle was falling. As they reached a fork in the road, Yu Xian suddenly stopped in his tracks. ”Old Shi, go ahead and grab me a portion of food too. I’ll eat back at the dorm later.”

”What’s wrong?” Shi Zuozhou took the meal card, looking a bit confused.

”I just remembered I left something in my dorm locker. I need it for tonight, so I have to go back and get it,” Yu Xian gave a vague excuse.

”Sure, what do you want to eat?”

”Just pick any two dishes. I’m not picky.”

Only after watching Shi Zuozhou leisurely stroll toward the cafeteria with his umbrella did Yu Xian turn around and enter the dormitory building. Pushing open the door to his room, he walked straight to his locker, took out his key, and unlocked it.

The space was stuffed with miscellaneous items and books. He rummaged for a while before finding a black wireless mouse. He had bought it when he first enrolled as a freshman—a basic Logitech model with crisp, loud clicks. Back then, he frequently studied with Xia Li. Whenever he pulled out this mouse, she would clap and laugh.

”And now, please welcome our classmate Yu Xian, who will perform a clapper talk for us!”

After that, this ”clapper” mouse had been relegated to the back of his locker, where it had lain dormant until now. He took a deep breath and shoved the mouse into a compartment of his backpack.

Just then, the screen of the phone resting on his desk lit up. A pixelated kitten avatar, the Uncertainty Robot, Wen Xiao. She had sent over the installation image file for the Rabbit Hole, telling Yu Xian to copy it onto a flash drive for Shi Zuozhou to burn and use.

”That fast?” Yu Xian paused in surprise before replying. ”Didn’t you say developing the Rabbit Hole would take half a month?”

”This is just the node package used to establish the network. Later, once the official functional version is fully developed, it can be updated remotely!” Wen Xiao replied instantly.

Yu Xian furrowed his brows as he realized a problem. ”If it’s updated remotely, doesn’t that mean we have to set up a server? If there’s a server, no matter how deeply it’s hidden, wouldn’t they be able to reverse-track us through packet sniffing?”

Under this dark Forest-like situation, any active signal transmission could invite a devastating strike. As long as there was interaction, there would be traces.

”I’ve considered that problem too. A conventional ’update server’ setup would definitely be a sitting duck. The solution I’m using is called the Gossip Protocol.”

”Can that solve the tracking issue?” Yu Xian asked, puzzled.

”Yes. Think about it—how does gossip spread throughout a school? It’s certainly not the principal shouting through a megaphone. Instead, Person A tells Person B, B tells C and D, C tells E... one person tells ten, ten tell a hundred. Given enough time, everyone will know.”

Wen Xiao sent a voice message to explain directly, ”Our Rabbit Hole nodes work the same way. Every computer installed with the node network will randomly ’whisper’ to other connected nodes nearby.” Her voice was like cotton candy, soft and sweet. ”They’ll ask each other, ’Do you have the new version?’ If the other node’s version is higher, it will automatically pull the update package, upgrade itself, and then proceed to infect nodes running older versions.”

”Then what if someone forges a malicious update package? Wouldn’t that also spread like a virus?” Yu Xian spotted a loophole.

”It won’t. Built into the underlying code of the program is a ’public key’ that acts as an authenticator. Before a node pulls an update package, it will first use the public key to verify the signature. If the signature is incorrect, it won’t be accepted, no matter how high the version number is.” Wen Xiao had apparently anticipated every possible risk.

Yu Xian listened intently, marveling, ”Is this... the art of technology?”

She had transformed complex cybersecurity defense and offense into the most primitive and fundamental logic of communication. The source couldn’t be traced, nor could the data be forged.

It was like a drop of ink diffusing into the ocean. This drop of ink would rapidly spread, dilute, and blend into the seawater. All the nodes would drink water tinged with black, but no one would know where that drop of ink had originally been added. Because at that moment, I am the ocean, and the ocean is me.

”Fresh water flows freely from its source.” In this system, the moment every node finished downloading the update, it became a new source. It was completely untraceable—unless every single node in the entire network was severed.

Wen Xiao sent a ”praise me” kitten sticker.

Yu Xian replied with an ”awesome” thumbs-up emoji. He then dug out an idle USB flash drive from his drawer, plugged it into his computer, and began burning the image.

The dormitory door was suddenly pushed open. Shi Zuozhou closed his umbrella and slapped two plastic containers onto the desk. ”Spicy thousand-layer tofu! Your Majesty, dinner is served!”

”Thanks.” Yu Xian didn’t stand on ceremony. He opened the container. The stir-fried sauce coated the tender white slices of tofu, which indeed looked quite appetizing. He picked up his chopsticks and took a few large bites.

As he hastily scarfed down his food, the flash drive’s burning progress bar hit 100%. He unplugged the drive and slid it across the desk toward Shi Zuozhou. ”It’s done.”

”This is the ’You Naughty Boy’ program? It’s... already done?” Shi Zuozhou wiped his hands and carefully pinched the USB drive.

”Yeah, the image is burned onto it. According to Wen Xiao, all you have to do is plug it into a computer, wait five minutes, and then unplug it. You can test it out on your own laptop first,” Yu Xian instructed in a low voice.

”Orders received! I’ll take a stroll around after class tonight!” Shi Zuozhou said excitedly.

”You must be careful. Even though the source can’t be traced on a software level, we’re in a sensitive period physically. If you’re caught and treated as an accomplice to saboteurs, we’ll be in massive trouble.” Yu Xian was still somewhat worried about Shi Zuozhou’s personal safety.

”Understood, understood.” Shi Zuozhou chuckled. ”This isn’t my first rodeo. My counter-reconnaissance awareness is off the charts.”

Yu Xian shook his head helplessly, hoping this idiot could complete the mission safely.

The two of them hurriedly finished their meal. Glancing at the time, there wasn’t much left before their evening class started.

”Let’s go, we’re going to be late.” Yu Xian tossed his empty container into the trash can and shouldered his backpack.

There was only a forty-minute gap between the last afternoon class and the evening session anyway; factoring in walking and eating, there was practically no time left to spare.

”Ugh, this garbage weather. Having to go to evening class in this is pure torture.” Complaining, Shi Zuozhou grabbed his umbrella and followed.

RUSTLE RUSTLE. The rain fell, sounding like countless whispering voices.

This ivory tower, which seemed to have regained its tranquility, was reflected in the waterlogged pavement—only to be trampled and shattered by the passing footsteps.