Chapter 1 Wan Jia Xiong Meng

The dragon-head mask concealed the wise glint in Li Ang's eyes as he pondered.

Merlin, oblivious to Li Ang's unease, continued addressing Nicolas, "The strength of an individual is always limited. Many data-world walkers initially embark on this path out of disappointment and dissatisfaction with the real world. Yet, after all these years, we've changed nothing—the world remains awful, injustice occurs constantly, and we, who possess power, still hide in the shadows. Only by uniting can we gain greater strength, more resources, and even the right to walk openly in the real world..."

Merlin's last sentence was laden with meaning. Wizards could only walk openly in the real world if the old order completely collapsed.

The wizards around the table wore varied expressions, some fearful and wary, others excited.

"..."

Nicolas's smile faded slightly; those who knew him well recognized this as a sign of his mood souring. However, the Santa Claus figure did not erupt in anger. He put away the virtual map and said calmly, "I will consider it carefully."

"Very well, but it would be best to do so soon."

Merlin glanced out of the corner of his eye toward the typewriter behind him. "Our time is limited."

Nicolas nodded, said nothing more, waved dismissively, and walked directly to a corner of the hall.

Merlin turned and raised his chin at Li Ang. "What about you? Zamaste. Interested in joining us?"

"Me?"

Li Ang hesitated. "Well... you know, I've never been interested in joining groups, especially when I don't know the purpose of your plans."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. We can only tell you the contents of the plan if you agree to join."

Merlin smiled. "However, if I were to use a term to describe the prospects, it would be just four words—limitless potential. Working alone is an outdated idea from the last century. Only by relying on the power of a team can we achieve something."

"Rely on your parents, you're a princess. Rely on your man, you're a queen. Rely on *you ji wa*, you must be Japanese..."

Li Ang muttered to himself, rubbing his palms together. Just as he was about to answer, a "clang" rang out as the clock on the wall of the castle hall chimed.

Since the members of the Coastal Wizard Association came from all over the world, the clock displayed Greenwich Mean Time.

"Ah, it's time. It's Monday today."

Li Ang clapped his hands. "Sorry, Merlin, I think I need more time to consider. How about I finish a game of chess with Thomas first? He seems to be late today."

Thomas was also a member of the Coastal Wizard Association.

He was one of Brown Murphy's friends in the data world. The two of them would always play chess at noon on Sundays and Mondays, relying purely on their brains without using auxiliary programs to cheat.

Thomas was always punctual, but he didn't seem to be here yet.

"Very well."

Merlin nodded. "But please give me an answer as soon as possible."

"Okay."

Li Ang nodded and turned to walk toward his favorite chair.

In this script mission's data world, he could still exert an effect similar to supernatural power. After observing just now, the energy fluctuations on each member of the Coastal Wizard Association were above Lv20. The energy fluctuations of Nicolas, Merlin, and others were even stronger than Li Ang's current state (the Swamp God's power was only superficial, without believers to provide faith).

In this case, it was worth pondering just how strong the never-seen Mailman was.

Rashly joining Merlin's plan might lead to self-destruction. There were considerable gaps in Brown Murphy's memory; casual conversations were fine, but long-term interaction meant that the strong and observant wizards would always be able to detect something was wrong.

Moreover, there was still a question in Brown Murphy's memory that had not been answered—why did he independently hack into the Jet Propulsion Laboratory's server on his own?

It should be known that Brown Murphy himself was cautious and prudent. Even in the data world, acting under the name "Zamaste," he had never made any big moves.

At most, he would leak some Wall Street insider trading scandals, or imitate Nicolas by doing some petty acts of robbing the rich and helping the poor.

Brown Murphy had always regarded all actions in the data world as a condiment to make up for the boring life in the real world, and material for his literary creation, just for fun.

The Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), on the other hand, was a federally funded unmanned aerial vehicle research and development center, as well as a NASA field center.

There was absolutely no fun to be had in causing trouble for science and engineering nerds.

'Brown Murphy inexplicably appeared in the JPL server, all memories before that were lost, and based on the first stage of the [Stay Alive, Escape Using Exit Node] mission objective, he had set up the exit node (that is, the triangular copper handle) in advance, indicating that he knew he might be in danger. What was he wary of? What was he guarding against?'

These questions lingered in Li Ang's mind. It was a pity that the Social Security Administration agents were pressing too hard. If he could have stayed in the real world a little longer to look for Brown Murphy's diary or something, that would have been great.

'The second stage mission objective is [Identify the true identity of the Mailman], which is consistent with the requirements of the Social Security Administration. There is no mission reward, no failure penalty, indicating that there is still a third stage mission. The mission time limit is 3 days, proving that I still have some time and don't need to rush...'

Li Ang sat in the soft chair, lost in thought.

A waiter robot in the shape of a small cart (an automated program generated by the castle, responsible for serving tea and water) brought the chessboard, used the slender mechanical arms on both sides of the cart to take out the chessboard and drinks, and placed them on the table.

"Mr. Zamaste." The indicator light on the front end of the cart lit up slightly, sending a one-way text message to Li Ang. "Mr. Thomas asked me to tell you that he may be late today. You can play chess by yourself for a while—he has already loaded an automatic program on the chessboard that will simulate his chess logic."

"Hmm?"

Li Ang was stunned when he heard this. Without saying a word, he asked the cart in the text message channel, "Where is he?"

"I don't know. That was his message from yesterday. You were not in the castle at the time."

As an automated program, the cart did not have a strong desire to communicate proactively. "I have already delivered the message. Would you like me to change your bottle of red wine?"

"No need."

Li Ang frowned, waved his hand, and gave the order, "Delete Thomas's message content, as well as the conversation between you and me just now. And format this data."

The specific construction year and builder of the Coastal Wizard Association's castle are currently unverifiable.

However, each member of the Wizard Association has the right to command the automated programs in the castle to issue simple instructions and convey information.

The cart accepted the order, completely deleted the conversation just now, and left on its own.

Li Ang watched its receding back, his brow furrowed, and turned to look at the chessboard.

Black and white pieces were neatly arranged on the white and brown chessboard.

Li Ang lightly brushed the chessboard with his fingers, picked up a white piece according to the hint in his memory, and chose the King's Pawn Opening.

As soon as the white piece fell, the black piece automatically flew up.

At the same time, Li Ang also heard a tired voice in his ear.

"Zamaste, this is your old friend Thomas. You're in the castle now, right? If Merlin and Ohm are both there, don't make a sound or show a surprised expression. Pretend to play chess with my program normally."

Under the dragon-head mask, Li Ang's eyes flashed with a hint of brilliance. His hand movements were steady and natural, without any hesitation.

"This is an automated message. By the time you hear this, I may already be dead."

Thomas's voice said with a wry smile, "Damn it, this feeling of waiting for death is terrible. Let me take a breather.

...

Huff, okay.

Um... how should I put this? Honestly, you and I aren't very familiar. After all, other than occasionally playing chess and tripping up the Social Security Administration and the Intelligence Agency, we don't have much in common. But I can't find anyone else to entrust my last wishes to..."

Thomas's voice was a little low. "Anyway, you should know that I've always been curious about the identity of the Mailman, right? Unlike us, this Mailman guy has never shown his face, not even creating a virtual shell. Anyone who wants to communicate with him has to go through that slow-as-hell typewriter. Each conversation takes him at least an hour to reply. At first, we all thought he was just a poor kid with outdated basic equipment, living in a rural slum and unable to afford enough money to rent a near-Earth orbit communication WeChat. But considering the miracles he has performed recently... what do you think?"

Thomas's voice paused. "The Mailman has the following characteristics: One, he doesn't have enough time to immerse himself in the data world, and can only endure delays to communicate with people. This proves that he may have some kind of formal and demanding job in the real world; Two, his skills are pretty good. He's an old hand, and can defend against the investigations of everyone in our circle; Three, he has far more understanding of official network systems than we do, so he can create so many 'miracles,' laying the foundation for him to recruit troops. What do you think? That's right, the person who perfectly meets all the above characteristics is most likely an intelligence agency agent. So I initially suspected that he might be an undercover agent of the intelligence agency infiltrating the Wizard Association."

Li Ang deliberately slowed down his chess moves, picked up the glass of red wine placed on the table, and shook the scarlet liquid in the glass.

He also suspected that the Mailman might be hiding inside the official system, taking advantage of the insider position, and crying thief to catch a thief.

After all, some of the characteristics displayed by the Mailman were very similar to those of civil servants with standard brain-machine interface equipment.

"I can understand the motivation of the intelligence agency to infiltrate our group. Even if they destroy the strongholds of the Coastal Wizard Association, as long as the true names of the wizards are not exposed, the Wizard Association can be rebuilt at any time. But I didn't tell anyone else, after all, anyone in the virtual world could be an informant of the intelligence agency. Only by finding evidence, or figuring out the true name of the Mailman, can he be controlled. So, I launched an investigation in private."

Thomas's message said, "I didn't directly investigate the Mailman. He has too little information, making it too difficult to investigate. If I control a large-scale processor and attack the official system from the inside, I will definitely be discovered by the intelligence department before I find him. Therefore, I first investigated Ohm—he was the first to cooperate with the Mailman."

Thomas said with a wry smile, "You know, Ohm's ability is not very good in our circle, and he is more utilitarian than others, more inclined to use the means of wizards to seek benefits for himself in the real world—small money, and he doesn't dare to spend it indiscriminately, for fear of attracting the attention of the tax bureau. Taken together, he leaves the most clues. I spent a month tracking and investigating, and finally locked down his true name, and found that he was an American used car salesman, middle-aged, single, living alone, with no great achievements in the real world. But the most important thing is that three months ago, he booked a one-way ticket to Venezuela."

Venezuela?

Li Ang searched his memory and found that Venezuela in the script world had begun small and medium-scale turmoil half a year ago.

The long-term disparity between the rich and the poor had accumulated a lot of social contradictions.

Finally, the Venezuelan military took the lead in raising the banner of rebellion.

Armed forces with different flags jumped onto the stage one after another.

"Three months ago, small-scale conflicts between armed forces of different forces in Venezuela were still very fierce. The United States' ban on Venezuela has not been lifted, how could Ohm, as an ordinary used car salesman, inexplicably jump into the fire pit?"

Thomas took a deep breath and said quietly, "The answer is that the subversion of Venezuela is actually artificially manipulated. The Mailman and Ohm have planned for at least a whole year. They subtly modified the local automated decision-making system, formulated policies that were beneficial to them, allocated resources, divided profits, assigned contacts, and established puppet groups. The local armed forces have all received funds from abroad. They have always believed that they have the support of the US intelligence agency, but in fact, the mastermind behind this is completely the Mailman. The reason why Ohm went to the turbulent Venezuela three months ago is likely because the Mailman promised him to make him the uncrowned king of Venezuela. In the real world United States, he is just a worthless used car salesman, stealing a thousand dollars online and being terrified. But once he arrives in Venezuela, he can become a legitimate billionaire, own luxury houses and cars, live extravagantly, and don't have to worry about his real name being exposed—Venezuela's military system is already at his command, and he no longer needs to hide himself. Unfortunately..."

Thomas paused and said slowly, "The military turmoil in Venezuela is about to end, but I have never been able to find Ohm's information. There are no new billionaires born in Venezuela. Ohm has probably fallen into the Mailman's trap and is completely dead. The Ohm in the castle is just an empty shell controlled by the Mailman. The worst thing is..."

Thomas's voice sounded extremely bitter, "The real me lives in Venezuela."