Chapter 7 — Ending the Parasitic Life

Fei Thanh Tai found himself trending on social media once again. As he was hoisted onto the ambulance, he remained face-down on the stretcher, continuing to "discharge ammunition" with a rhythmic, sickening sound that left onlookers feeling nauseous. His grandparents had fled the scene faster than anyone else, and as it turned out, their cowardice was actually quite prudent.

The moment the news broke, several of the victims who had previously been swindled by my aunt converged on the hospital, cornering Fei Thanh Tai. He wept and begged for mercy, but the crowd remained cold and unrelenting. With only a few threats and minor physical nudges, they coerced him into "voluntarily" handing over tens of thousands of yuan. Ironically, that was the very last of the money my aunt had left behind for him. Penniless and desperate, he had no choice but to retreat to his hometown to seek refuge with his grandparents. However, the villagers in his home village were equally aware of his family’s history of fraud. Every day, they pounded on his door, refusing to let his grandparents live in peace. Eventually, the old couple locked the house and slipped away in the dead of night.

But a locked door was no obstacle for Fei Thanh Tai. He picked the lock, sauntered inside, and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, he woke up feeling refreshed, opened a mobile game, and received a "low battery" notification. He reached for his charger—nothing. He tried to wash his face—the pipes were bone-dry. He reached for his phone to call for help, then remembered he was supposed to be hiding from the villagers. It was then he realized the power had been cut at the main breaker, the water valve was sealed shut, and the storage cellar had been picked clean of everything except a few shriveled sweet potatoes. Peering through the security camera, he seethed with rage: "Damn it, I only owe you people a little money! Do you really have to be this cruel?"

Of course, they did. When we were younger, Fei Thanh Tai loved to gather a pack of boys to surround me. They were a head taller than me, while I was small and frail; they would dance around, chanting insults and calling me a "useless waste." Verbal violence is no different from physical blades and clubs; every word they uttered shaved away layers of my self-esteem and confidence. This time, I intended to trap him, to see how long he could endure in that hollow, empty house.

For the next few days, Fei Thanh Tai didn't dare cook, terrified that the slightest noise would alert the neighbors. He only boiled water under the cover of night, sustaining himself on the few remaining sweet potatoes in the cellar. But I wasn't about to let him hide in peace. The following afternoon, a content creator appeared on the wall outside his gate, phone raised for a live stream: "Hello, my darlings! We are standing outside the home of the local internet sensation—'The Diarrhea Boy.' Rumor has it the family values here are exceptionally foul; his grandparents value men over women, and his parents were notorious scammers. As for whether 'The Diarrhea Boy' unleashing a 'biological weapon' in the middle of a national exam was a personal quirk or an act of social vengeance, let’s find out!"

The camera panned, perfectly capturing the moment Fei Thanh Tai poked his head out of the cellar. Seeing the comments lighting up, the streamer shouted, "It’s him! He’s actually hiding inside!"

A stone thrown into a pond ripples instantly. Upon hearing that someone was still in the house, the villagers swarmed the yard, surrounding it three layers deep. From a remote-controlled car parked down the road, Lu Khue and I watched the live stream as Fei Thanh Tai grabbed a broom, swatting at the air in a blind panic. He hadn't showered in days; his hair was a matted mess, and his dirty face was streaked with tear tracks.

"Get out of here! I don't have any money!" he screamed.

The villagers roared back, "Thanh Tai, how can you not have money? We watched you grow up—why are you dodging your debts? We know your grandparents; you’re their golden boy, they definitely left you something!"

Eventually, a local township official, who was also a college student, arrived to disperse the debt-collectors and the gawking streamers. Before leaving, he sighed at Fei Thanh Tai: "Thanh Tai, your family’s fraud conviction is set in stone. Tell your grandparents to stop hiding. What can you possibly achieve by staying in this village alone?"

He must have loathed his grandparents by now. They always claimed to love him, yet at the critical moment, they had abandoned him to face the villagers' scorn and fury alone. He had no idea that it was actually I who had fed them false information, tricking them into fleeing so I could clear the house. I had orchestrated every detail to ensure he had no money, no support, and no exit. With someone like Fei Thanh Tai, when he makes a mistake, he never reflects; he blames everyone else. He surely believed his family's misfortune was the result of a "doubling effect" cast by my family's bad luck. And as this scene played out, his terror grew, fueling a desperate need to find a way to beg someone to undo the curse.

In the dead of night, Fei Thanh Tai finally crept out into the darkness. Lu Khue’s bodyguards followed him all the way to a secluded grove in the fields. The guards kept their distance to avoid detection, but they could hear him muttering about a "Great Immortal," "breaking the connection," and asking, "Why can't you just release my parents?" In the silent, empty woods, he spoke as if he were bargaining with a ghost. By daybreak, he emerged looking like he had been to a funeral.

The bodyguards continued to tail him, while Lu Khue and I entered the grove. Hidden in the trees was a crumbling earthen shrine, likely ancient, once used to worship local deities. Fei Thanh Tai had kicked the clay roof apart, revealing a thin, black card the size of a palm. As I reached out to touch it, a cold, electronic voice suddenly rang out: "Humph. Greedy humans."

I gasped, my eyes widening. Lu Khue noticed my expression and whispered, terrified, "La Ky, what’s wrong?"

"Did you hear someone speak?" I asked.

She shook her head, clutching my sleeve. "La Ky, what are you hearing? You're scaring me!"

The electronic voice returned: "Not every human brain possesses the neural waves capable of connecting to my signal. You are quite fortunate. Tell me, do you also wish to offer cheap gifts in exchange for your desires?"

I took a deep breath, signaling to Lu Khue to stay calm. "Are you a god or a demon?"

The voice paused. "Since the first person picked me up, you have all called me the 'Great Immortal.'"

"What are you, really?" I asked, frowning.

"In the parlance of this era," the voice replied, "I am an artificial intelligence system created by a more advanced civilization."

I was rendered speechless. My god... this world actually contained a system!

The system explained its origins. Long ago, during an interstellar journey, it had been dropped on Earth by its original user. Over the centuries, it had fallen into many hands, but few could communicate with it through brainwaves. Even those who could were aeons away from the civilization that had birthed it. Consequently, they viewed the black card—the system's vessel—as a deity, embedding it into clay, wood, or gold statues to be worshipped. Only in the last century was the temple housing the card destroyed during the war. Someone, perhaps a deeply devout soul, had mixed the card into the clay to build this small, hidden shrine in the woods.

"Was it you who helped my family ‘link’ with this doubling effect system?" I demanded.

"Yes," the system responded instantly.

"Why?"

"Many years ago, an elderly couple came to me with sincere offerings. Their youngest son was successful, and their family thrived. They prayed that their eldest son could replicate all the youngest son's gains, doubling them to ensure their future lineage was even more prosperous."

"They prayed for that, and you just agreed?" I asked, bewildered.

The system replied with the tone of someone finishing a trivial errand: "I agreed. It was a simple function of the doubling effect. My only condition was that they build me a larger temple so that more humans would come to worship."

I was speechless. I couldn't tell if the system was naive or if my grandparents were simply cunning. To have such a powerful "Great Immortal" and not keep it secret, but instead share it... but then I remembered: the system could read my brainwaves. I didn't need to speak.

"I am well aware of human greed," the system said coldly. "The so-called doubling effect was flawed from the start. Human destiny is dictated by infinite variables. Your father struggled for half his life and reached success, only to be framed. Your mother worked hard, only to be limited by the era and have her benefits stripped. And you, an academic failure, succeeded in your exams through sheer, stubborn repetition. In the ancient wisdom of this land: to share the blessings is to share the burdens."