Chapter 496: The Computer's Secret

My friend arrived at two in the afternoon. I told him that my uncle needed his help checking a computer, and the fee was a hundred thousand. The guy was short on cash, so he got up at five and caught a plane over. I said I had my own things to do and wouldn't come to meet him, and that he should just make this money honestly.

This guy was a classmate of mine, good with computers. Last time I looked into that website, he helped me out too. I laid out my requirements to him, and he understood right away, didn't ask why, and started working immediately.

But as soon as he lifted the whole computer and took a look, he let out a "Huh?"

I asked what was wrong, and he said, "This computer of yours isn't connected to the network."

"Not connected to the network?"

"Look, there's no network cable."

I bent down to look and was stunned too. Sure enough, the back of the computer was bare—even someone like me with little computer knowledge could tell it definitely wasn't connected to a network cable, because it only had a power cord plugged into the socket.

"Wireless network?"

"Impossible. There's no wireless network driver installed in the computer."

"Then what's going on?" I asked in confusion.

Damn. This is GHOSTNET, I thought to myself. I'd seen a TV show before where a computer could connect to another computer in another world through some kind of spiritual power, and the people in it called that kind of network a "ghost net."

I didn't know how it worked, but it definitely wasn't a ghost net. I suddenly realized this was crucial. I sat back down in front of the computer, calmed myself, and then he said, "I need to open it up and look inside to figure out what's going on. Otherwise, you're just talking to yourself."

"I don't understand. Explain it in more detail."

"In theory, it's possible. A single computer can have two accounts set up, and they can communicate with each other within the same machine."

"No network needed?"

"No. But did your emails have actual content?"

I nodded. "Of course they did."

"Then that can't be the case. I think there must be something fishy inside the case," he said.

I asked if it would damage the machine, and he shook his head, saying absolutely not.

He worked quickly—clearly used to assembling computers at a computer mall—and soon took off the case of the main unit. Inside were circuit boards I couldn't understand. He tapped around inside with tweezers, and after checking, his face turned pale. He said to me, "Bro, this is really damn weird. There's no network card in here."

I didn't understand how serious that was. Seeing my puzzled expression, he said, "On a computer level, this violates the laws of physics. Without a network card, there's absolutely no way to receive any external emails. Impossible. This email you received can only have come from this computer itself."

"What do you mean?"

"Either you're emailing yourself, or this computer is emailing you on its own."

I shook my head. That was absolutely impossible. "Absolutely impossible. Look more carefully," I said. Suddenly I remembered the last email from yesterday. Damn, could it be that this computer was sentient, and inside this room it saw me go out to smoke, rather than watching my balcony from somewhere else? A chill ran through me. If that was the case, were we basically raping it right now? No, dissecting it.

I quickly dismissed that ridiculous thought. There had to be something fishy. My classmate kept studying the inside of the case, and then suddenly let out another "Huh?" He shone a flashlight on a very thin white wire and said, "So that's how it is."

"What's the reason?" I asked impatiently. He said, "Not sure yet, but there's a strange wire here." He fiddled with the thin white wire, tracing it all the way to its source—it connected into the computer's power supply. He immediately started dismantling the power supply, and after taking it apart, he used a screwdriver to pull out that white wire and found it attached to a tiny electronic component.

I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I watched my classmate stroke his chin. He thought for a long time, then said, "I can't believe what I'm seeing. I never thought I'd see something like this in this day and age. You probably won't understand what I'm about to say: this is a very primitive network card that uses the ground wire to transmit signals. It's a point-to-point network. The other computer is only connected to yours. It's basically a Morse code decoder."

"Then where is it?" I didn't want to know how it worked at all.

"I don't know. It uses the power supply's ground wire—a dedicated line. Do you have the circuit diagram for this house? If you do, I can help you find it."

I shook my head. Not only did I not know where that thing was, even if such a thing had existed before, my third uncle would have destroyed it. Being as cautious as he was, he wouldn't have left any possibility of that line being exposed.

He said, "Then the only way is to pull out this line. One end is here. The other end—we just need to follow the line to find it." He pointed at the socket embedded in the floor. "That's the starting point. We'll have to pry up all the floorboards and find where this line goes. The other computer must also be connected to this line."

I thought about it and told him not to act rashly. I needed to figure things out. Making too much noise would definitely get us caught; we had to handle this lightly. He said, "This kind of dedicated network has a very short range, and it can't be too far from this house, otherwise it would involve street transformers. So its location can't be too far from here—definitely within a few hundred meters. We'll find it quickly."

"How long do you think it'll take at most?"

"At most three hours to find it."

I patted him on the shoulder and said, "Alright, take a break first, and we'll do it after dark tonight. Put the computer back together for now."

The situation continues to change; we must wait until midnight.

This was the email I sent, telling the person to wait a bit longer. That way, this person would definitely be waiting by the computer at midnight. If we could find it, I could break in and catch them in the act.

The other party never replied. I waited until the sky was completely dark, then told my classmate to wrap a cloth around the flashlight and start working.

Third Uncle's house was actually a converted old farmhouse. All the wiring was exposed, but for safety, Third Uncle had added an extra layer to the floor. My friend carefully pried up the floorboards, broke off the protective casing around the wire, and pulled the line out.

I ran up to the second floor to see which external wire on the roof was being tugged.

Then, searching along, I found that this wire was directly connected to outside the house. I pulled out all the rivets securing this wire and had my classmate continue pulling.

Going down to the first floor, we followed the wire all the way into the courtyard. Then we saw the wire running straight down into the ground.

I found it strange—Third Uncle's courtyard wasn't big, only about six or seven square meters. That bundle of four or five wires all ran along the eaves of the wall, but only this one wire went underground.

The ground was piled with messy potted plants, over a dozen of them. My friend and I carefully moved them aside one by one, and I was surprised to see a manhole cover:

The wire went straight down, actually leading into this manhole.

I never knew Third Uncle's house had such a thing. The manhole cover had a handle. I went up and tried to lift it, found it could be moved. Inside was pitch black, and my heart was in my throat.

There's a way in.

I took a breath and said to my classmate, "Alright, that's enough here." After sending him off, I immediately went into the house, grabbed a flashlight, returned to the manhole cover, took a deep breath, pulled it open, and shone the light down.