Chapter 200: The Reclusive Genius Hacker and the Kid

Yu Mo sat curled up in an oversized chair, the pale glow of data streams flickering across his face from the light screen behind him.

Years without sunlight, irregular meals and sleep—he looked like a Phantom born of darkness.

And being stared down by such a Phantom, cold and intense, would be enough to make any child burst into tears.

But the little girl sitting across from him—with big eyes and fair skin—was clearly not just any child.

From the moment she stepped through the door, she made herself right at home, curiously inspecting every corner of the cramped room.

Under Yu Mo’s gaze, she moved like a cat surveying her territory, checking every nook and cranny before plopping herself down on the only sofa.

Without the slightest hesitation, she shoved aside the pile of clutter on it with both hands to make space for herself.

She was small and short, but her swagger and ease made her seem more like the owner of the place than Yu Mo himself.

This little girl, swinging her legs in someone else’s home like she owned it, was none other than Qian.

Not long ago, the magical girl, cultivation prodigy, and System-chosen Qian had taken advantage of summer break to use the System devoured by the Divine Artifact Dice and traced it back to its main System Space—then snuck in.

And then she pulled off something big.

She liberated several worlds that had been invaded and controlled by rogue Systems—including the one where Aberrant Mama lived.

She utterly destroyed the Survival System there, which meant that world was no longer under System control. Humans no longer had to complete mandatory survival tasks, and the eerie domains would now coexist with humanity.

Qian had a blast causing chaos in the System’s heavenly palace, but of course, she’d pissed off the enemy. Her escape had been nothing short of a disaster.

To avoid being tracked down by the System, she had to fall back on old tricks—slipping into another world, hiding her real body, and disguising herself as someone’s daughter.

She was an old hand at playing the kid role.

This time, she picked a person with strong fate but little time left to live.

Preferably someone well-versed in System tech.

That last part was especially important—her previous lack of understanding of future tech had cost her dearly in the System Space.

Determined to learn from her mistakes, Qian decided to find a guardian who was a tech expert. Maybe she could pick up some knowledge, and next time she stormed the System’s lair, she’d be even more unstoppable.

And so, in this futuristic world, the unfortunate winner of her selection was Yu Mo—the legendary hacker known online as “Phantom.”

Just like that, he suddenly found himself with a three-year-old daughter.

Qian, of course, knew full well she was the reason behind this sudden “daughter,” but Yu Mo was clearly not so quick to catch on.

For Yu Mo, this was the most incomprehensible day of his life.

That day, like always, he’d been sitting in front of his light-brain, immersed in the digital world, living a life with no concept of day or night.

An orphan raised in a federal orphanage, with no family or friends, and a reclusive personality, he rarely left his tiny apartment—maybe once a month, at most.

Online, he was the fearsome and mysterious “Phantom.” Offline, he was the messy, good-for-nothing weirdo the neighbors gossiped about.

His genius in cyberspace was matched only by his cluelessness in real life.

No one ever contacted him outside the net. So when someone knocked violently on his door that morning, it was a shock.

The star region police delivered a three-year-old girl to him and warned him that abandoning a child and neglecting his parental duties would result in criminal charges and fines.

Barefoot at the door, Yu Mo awkwardly avoided the officers’ stern gazes.

Truth was, he had no idea what they were talking about. Just before they knocked, he’d wrapped up a two-day data war online, defeating a veteran hacker and claiming the top spot on the X-Net Hacker Rankings.

And now, dazed and confused, he’d been lectured, handed a “daughter,” and watched her walk into his home—while he shrank back into his oversized chair and stared at her.

Finally, the 19-year-old genius hacker Yu Mo pieced it together.

He had a daughter.

He didn’t remember having one, but in this era of massive genetic databases, everyone’s DNA was on file. If this little girl had been sent to him, then their genes must have shown a parent-child match.

Data doesn’t lie.

So the one who must be wrong… was him.

Yu Mo stared at the unsolvable problem before him, scratching anxiously at his knees until he tore a hole in his well-worn pants.

In his domain of expertise, there was no problem he couldn’t crack. But outside of it, when faced with something he couldn’t solve, Yu Mo’s usual response was to avoid it.

And so, after a long while, still unable to make sense of it, Yu Mo spun his chair back around and resumed his work on the light-brain—pretending the child didn’t exist.

But pretending didn’t make her disappear.

Just as Yu Mo was starting to forget she was even there, he felt a tug on his shirt.

The sudden pull startled him. He’d forgotten there was a living being in the room.

Qian, utterly unfazed by his reaction, looked up and tugged his shirt again, her voice crisp and clear: “I’m hungry. I want food!”

Yu Mo’s long fingers twitched. He stared at her for a moment, then stood up and walked to the corner of the room, opening the storage cooler to retrieve the food he usually ate.

Instant energy bars and nutrient fluid.

The nutrient fluid was flavorless. The vegetarian energy bar had a faint aroma, but it was rock-hard—impossible for a three-year-old to chew.

After gnawing at it for a while and barely managing a bite, Qian threw the bar down like a stone.

“I don’t want to eat rocks! I want real food! I’m starving—about to die!”

Yu Mo clearly didn’t catch the exaggeration. His body visibly stiffened, and he looked at Qian with a hint of panic, as if he truly believed she was on the verge of death.

In this house, the only food available was nutrient fluid and energy bars—and now both had been rejected.

His apartment was in an old, soon-to-be-demolished district with no food delivery service. To feed the child, he had no choice but to take her out, despite her wailing protests.

The moment Qian stepped outside, she turned into a cheerful little bird, brimming with curiosity about everything around her.

Her current face was cute and delicate—clearly inherited from Yu Mo, and they looked quite alike.

But while Yu Mo had a handsome face, walking down the street he looked like a shady criminal with a guilty conscience.

He wore a dark hoodie, the hood pulled tightly over his head, long hair covering his eyes and face. He kept his head down, avoided all eye contact, and walked close to the walls.

If Qian hadn’t insisted on holding his hand, Yu Mo would’ve stuffed both hands into his pockets.

“I want that one!” Qian sniffed the air and dragged Yu Mo toward a food stall.

It was a lively stall, packed with people laughing and chatting loudly.

The vendor looked like a real talker, constantly chatting with customers.

In short, it was the kind of place Yu Mo would never willingly approach.

He tried to leave, but Qian refused to budge. In the midst of their tug-of-war, it was finally their turn.

The vendor grinned and asked what they wanted to eat.

With the vendor asking questions in front and other customers urging from behind, Yu Mo opened his mouth but then closed it again, unable to say a word. His palms were slick with sweat.

Qian grew anxious. She clung to the edge of the stall, stretching on tiptoe to poke her head up.

“I want this one! And that one too! What’s that over there? I can’t see!”

The vendor laughed heartily and said to Yu Mo, “Come on, pick the kid up so she can see better. Uncle’s stall has all kinds of delicious stuff—let me tell you all about it!”

Yu Mo gestured awkwardly at Qian a couple of times, then stiffly grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up.

Listening to her chatter with the vendor, the two of them going back and forth, they managed to place a lively and cheerful order.

They bought a lot. Qian immediately grabbed a pancake and started munching, her face full of delight.

Yu Mo pulled her away from the bustling stall, and the two of them squatted in a quiet corner of the street, sharing the steaming food.

It had been a long time since Yu Mo had eaten anything hot. The first bite seemed to awaken his stomach from hibernation.

“Let’s go home,” he said quietly after they finished eating, clutching his stomach a little awkwardly.

“No!” Qian tugged on his hand, pointing at the massive mall in the distance. “I want to go there!”

Another place Yu Mo didn’t like—crowded, brightly lit, full of people and conversation. Everything he avoided.

“Daddy, do you have money? I want to buy something!”

It was the first time anyone had called him “Daddy.” The word hit differently. He had never imagined himself as someone’s father.

In short, being called “Daddy” stunned him. By the time he snapped out of it, the kid had already marched into the mall.

Under the mall’s harsh, glaring lights, Yu Mo yanked his hood down as far as it would go.

The kid seemed pretty well-behaved. Every time she wanted something, she’d pick it up and ask sweetly, “Daddy, can I buy this?”

No matter what she asked for, Yu Mo didn’t even look—just kept his head down and nodded.

His evasive manner caught the attention of a sales assistant. She walked over with a polite smile and asked, “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

Yu Mo said nothing.

The sales assistant didn’t change expression. She leaned down and whispered to Qian, “Who is that man to you, sweetheart? Do you need help?”

Qian whispered back, “He’s not a weirdo. He’s my daddy.”

The sales assistant glanced again at Yu Mo. “…Alright, got it.”

By the time they finally made it home, arms full of bags, Yu Mo was staggering from exhaustion.

As soon as the door closed, he dropped everything and rushed to his usual spot in front of the neural terminal.

Sinking into the wide, cushy chair, he let out a long breath, like someone who’d just been revived.

His fingers found the virtual keys, and he dove straight into the digital world.

Qian sprawled on the carpet in front of the couch, tearing open her new toys and snacks, happily lounging while watching an interstellar comedy show.

Yu Mo gradually forgot all about the kid.

Late into the night, he stood up from the terminal and opened the fridge, looking for his favorite drink—Happy Water.

Aside from the nutrient fluids and energy bars he needed to survive, Happy Water was the only beverage he ever drank. He always made sure to restock whenever he went out.

But this time, he’d forgotten. There should’ve been one bottle left in the fridge—but it was gone.

In what was supposed to be his private space, there were signs of someone else. Yu Mo shuffled over to the couch and saw the child asleep there.

She had fallen asleep with a tablet still playing a show. Snacks were scattered everywhere. Most importantly, his Happy Water was now an empty bottle lying by her feet.

Yu Mo stood there for a moment, then turned and went back to his seat.

The X-Net was still buzzing with excitement over “Phantom” defeating the Old God and claiming the top spot. People were scrambling to uncover his identity, and countless fans were singing his praises. Hackers flooded his inbox, all wanting to be friends.

Yu Mo ignored them all. He didn’t like talking to people.

A user named Fat Cat sent him a message—congratulations, followed by a job offer. The payout was higher than before.

Fat Cat was one of the few people Yu Mo regularly interacted with online. They weren’t friends, not even close.

Yu Mo only dealt with him for business. Fat Cat was an excellent middleman—working with him meant Yu Mo could avoid unnecessary conversations and just focus on the job.

Normally, Fat Cat didn’t say much. He knew “Phantom” wasn’t the chatty type. But today, he was excited and couldn’t help rambling a bit.

He tried to convince Phantom to take a new job—big project, great pay. As the broker, Fat Cat stood to make a nice commission.

But soon, Fat Cat realized something was off. Phantom wasn’t in a good mood. No matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t bite.

“Phantom, what’s wrong? You’re number one now. Aren’t you happy?”

After a long pause, he finally got a reply: “I don’t like kids.”

And that was the last message.

Yu Mo didn’t understand why, after going out yesterday, he had to go out again today.

His suddenly-acquired daughter was hungry again, tugging at him to take her out for food.

Yu Mo pointed at the pile of snacks they’d bought yesterday. “You can eat those.”

“No, I want real food! Hot and yummy!” Qian refused.

Seeing that he wasn’t moving—was even turning his chair away—Qian threw herself on the floor and wailed, “I’m starving! I want food, waaaah!”

Not long after, the door opened. Qian ran out, and Yu Mo, once again hooded, trudged after her, reluctant and heavy-footed.

After feeding her, Yu Mo restocked his Happy Water. That lifted his mood a little.

He hadn’t had a proper rest in days. His face was pale as a ghost.

Back home, Qian flopped onto the couch to watch her shows while Yu Mo slipped into the bathroom.

His apartment was tiny, and the bathroom even smaller. Just a sink, a toilet, and a cramped little tub. He had to hug his knees to sit in it.

But Yu Mo liked tight spaces. They made him feel safe. Even though he had enough money to buy a mansion with a garden, he chose to stay here.

Those speculating about Phantom’s identity online would never believe he lived in a place like this.

Yu Mo sat in the tub, burying his face in his knees, completely zoning out. His mind went blank, like a computer powering down.

After a long while, he slowly lifted his head—and saw a small child leaning over the edge of the tub.

She’d bumped her head on the rim and was peering at him curiously. “Daddy, did you fall asleep in here?”

Yu Mo: “!!”

His sanctuary had been invaded by an unreasonable little intruder. Yu Mo instantly felt like his whole body was glitching—like his neural terminal had been hit by a virus.

The kid bounced on the edge of the tub. “I didn’t take a bath yesterday either. I want to soak too!”

Dripping wet, Yu Mo fled the bathroom, leaving his territory to the child.

He had no idea how much help a kid this size needed with washing up. Luckily, Qian wasn’t completely helpless. Though her mind had regressed due to her body, her self-care skills were surprisingly sharp.

After all, she’d been a kid more than once—she was getting good at it.

She washed up, got dressed, brushed her teeth, and even put on some scented lotion in front of the mirror—far more put-together than her new dad.

The only thing she couldn’t manage was drying her hair. After rubbing at it until her arms were sore, she gave up and ran over to Yu Mo with the towel.

“Dry my hair!”

Yu Mo shifted his gaze from the light screen to Qian’s head. She nudged her dripping, messy hair toward him, and he stiffly took the towel and began drying her hair.

His own hair, long overdue for a trim, was still dripping water.

Qian’s hair was soon a tangled bird’s nest. Looking up and seeing that his collar was soaked, she raised the towel and volunteered enthusiastically, “I’ll dry your hair too!”

As she spoke, she started climbing onto Yu Mo’s chair.

There was a kind of relentless determination about her that Yu Mo found especially hard to deal with. In the end, she managed to scramble up onto the chair.

Yu Mo’s chair was oversized—he often curled up or leaned in it to nap instead of using the nearby bed. As a result, it was cluttered with pillows, blankets, and other miscellaneous items.

Qian climbed up, kicked aside the clutter, and boldly draped her little towel over Yu Mo’s head, then launched into a vigorous, haphazard rubdown.

Her technique was just as clumsy as Yu Mo’s had been.

So the next day, both of them ended up with hair so tangled it looked like bird nests—impossible to comb through.

In the month since the child had entered his life, Yu Mo had gone out more times than he had in the past three years combined.

His already cramped apartment was now overflowing with toys, clothes, snacks, drinks, and even a random kiddie ride.

The spaceship-shaped kiddie ride, which should’ve been sitting in a shopping mall somewhere, now stood in his living room—because a certain child had begged for it, and Yu Mo had given in.

From then on, he watched her every day, squealing with delight as she piloted her “spaceship” to the tune of cheerful music.

Even the bed had become her territory. Qian, who had claimed an entire bed for herself, would roll around on it practicing martial arts.

Ever since the bed had been covered in colorful, adorable plush toys, Yu Mo avoided it like it was some kind of terrifying trap.

The bathroom had fallen too.

After the child used his old, shedding toothbrush to stir toilet water, he was forced to switch to a cute children’s dental cleaner.

The first time he tried to take a bath and got stared at, he was so startled he fled. But now, Yu Mo could sit in the tub with a blank expression, hugging his knees, tuning out everything around him.

Even when Qian, sitting behind him, kept patting his back, he remained motionless—pretending to be a rock.

Qian sat nearby splashing water, like a little witch from a fairy tale concocting potions, tossing all sorts of bath bombs, scented oils, and shampoo into his bathwater.

Yu Mo smelled better every day, which was a problem—because whenever he went outside, people would give him a second look.

Still, he clung to the last corner of the house that was truly his: the area around his lightbrain and his chair.

“What are you doing?”

“……”

“Is that fun?”

“……”

“Are you playing a game? I want to play too.”

“……”

Even though Yu Mo didn’t respond, Qian didn’t give up. After circling around him once, she squeezed into the space in front of him.

Yu Mo looked down at the small head pressing against him and met a pair of wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, I want to play too,” she said.

Qian successfully climbed onto Yu Mo’s chair, sitting right in front of him, eyes full of wonder as she stared at the hundreds of glowing keys on the screen.

Yu Mo’s fingers danced across them, ten digits tapping so fast they left afterimages.

But this wasn’t his usual speed. The warm, squishy child nestled in front of him, occasionally brushing against his knees, was a major distraction.

“I want to play too!” She had no idea what he was “playing,” but Yu Mo, unable to shake her off, opened a separate window and let her play with red and green blocks.

He had just taken a job to hack into an organization’s internal firewall and destroy their database—he was already more than halfway through.

The “game interface” displayed in front of Qian was actually the compromised internal database. Every time she tapped a green block, a chunk of data was deleted.

She seemed to find the explosion sound effects hilarious and kept giggling as she tapped away.

So Yu Mo sped up his hacking. Occasionally, when Qian accidentally tapped a red block, he had to reroute and tackle that section first.

Meanwhile, inside the organization, chaos reigned.

They were an illegal group conducting experiments banned by federal law. Their database contained critical research data—every loss meant a massive financial hit.

Groups like theirs couldn’t report a cyberattack to the authorities, so they had to swallow the loss. That’s why they’d paid a fortune to hire the legendary hacker “Scorpio” to build their firewall.

Scorpio had even helped construct the federal SkyNet firewall. They’d gone so far as to break him out of prison for this.

But now, under attack, the famed Scorpio was drenched in sweat, his hands cramping over the keyboard.

“Who the hell is this?!” the leader, face twisted in rage, shouted as they watched their defenses crumble.

Scorpio looked grim. “At first I thought it was ‘Phantom.’ Their breach pattern was methodical. But this one—there’s no logic, it’s completely chaotic. It doesn’t feel like Phantom’s style. I’m not sure anymore.”

All the green blocks vanished. The screen turned red, then morphed into a swirling starfield.

Qian turned to Yu Mo, still eager. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“So I won?”

“You won.”

“Yay! I want to play again!”

But there weren’t that many databases left for her to blow up. Yu Mo found her a real children’s game instead.

From then on, a child-sized chair appeared next to Yu Mo’s.

While he worked, Qian sat beside him playing games.

At last, even his final stronghold had fallen.

Yu Mo’s only remaining rule was that Qian couldn’t randomly mash his keys while he was working.

As for the unlucky organization whose database had been destroyed, Yu Mo didn’t give it another thought. It was just another job, and he was confident no one could trace his digital footprint back to him.

But the unexpected still happened.

While his mischievous daughter had drained all his soda and was now fast asleep on the bed, four armed strangers broke into his apartment.

“‘Phantom,’ right? Heard you’re the number one intranet hacker in Sector X? Didn’t expect you to be so young.” The woman in charge, long-haired and toying with a gun, nudged aside the yogurt bottle Qian had left on the table and smiled.

“Wondering how we found you? It wasn’t easy. Your fat cat friend gave us a little help.”

Yu Mo was pinned to his chair, unable to move, forced to listen as the woman continued, “Relax. We’re not here to hurt you. We just need a favor.”

“We heard you breached LifeTech’s firewall and wiped their database. Their system was said to be a mini-SkyNet. So you should be able to crack the real SkyNet too, right?”

Yu Mo finally spoke. “That would violate federal law.”

The woman suddenly laughed. “If you don’t want to break federal law, your only other option is death.”

She said this as she walked toward the bed with her hands behind her back, feigning surprise. “Oh? What’s this—a child?”

When she lightly rested her gun against the sleeping child’s head, Yu Mo struggled and blurted out, “I’ll do it!”

The woman holstered her gun and whistled. “Good daddy.”

When Qian woke up, she found herself in a large room, cradled in her father’s arms, her head covered by the hood of his coat.

She pushed the hood aside, scratched her head in confusion, and looked up to ask, “Daddy, did we move?”

“That’s right. You’ll be staying here for a while. Do you like big houses like this, little one?” a woman’s voice came from behind.

Qian felt her father hold her just a little tighter.

“Don’t be nervous. As long as you behave and do your part, we won’t do anything to a child.”

The woman, gripping Yu Mo’s tense shoulder, turned to Qian and said, “My name is Wu Nuo. Come play with me, okay? Don’t bother your dad while he’s working.”

There were quite a few people living in this remote mansion, but aside from Wu Nuo, the rest were tall, burly men who seemed to follow her orders. While keeping an eye on Yu Mo, they were also engaged in some secretive activities.

Most of the time, Qian was taken along by Wu Nuo to play. She often saw the men moving strange-looking crates.

Because she was just a child, no one paid her much attention. Wu Nuo and her associates didn’t bother to hide their conversations around her.

Only at night was she allowed to return to Yu Mo’s side and sleep with him.

They hadn’t given him a proper chair, so Yu Mo could only sleep on the bed.

Qian would lie beside him, her head poking out from under the covers, chattering about where Wu Nuo had taken her that day.

Yu Mo held her hand under the blanket, listening quietly.

A surveillance camera mounted on the ceiling blinked with a faint red light, watching their every move.

Yu Mo was unusually cooperative, spending each day trying to hack the Federal Skynet. But after seven days with no results, Wu Nuo grew impatient. She pressed a gun to his forehead and snapped, “Are you playing me? How could it take this long?”

Yu Mo lowered his head to avoid her glare and muttered, “Skynet is hard to crack. They’ve got a whole team defending and tracking. I’m just one person.”

Wu Nuo didn’t fully understand the technicalities, but the guy didn’t seem particularly brave—probably too scared to lie to her.

“You’d better not be stalling! Don’t think the Federal Police are coming to save you. Wasting time won’t help. Got it? I’m giving you three more days. If there’s still no progress, I’ll start with your daughter.”

After she left, Yu Mo stared at the light screen, his eyes dull, letting out a silent sigh.

Wu Nuo had guessed right—he hadn’t been giving it his all. He’d been slacking off.

But not to buy time for a rescue. He just… liked the way things were now, and wanted to stretch it out a bit longer.

In the week since they’d been captured, Yu Mo felt like he’d gone back in time—back to the days before he had a child.

He could sit alone in front of his terminal, doing what he was good at, without a kid constantly interrupting him or pestering him for fancy meals three times a day.

The criminals holding him hostage were surprisingly good with kids. Yu Mo had even considered letting Wu Nuo keep taking care of Qian.

To prolong this rare peace, he’d been patching together a solution to Skynet he could’ve cracked days ago.

But that peace was clearly coming to an end.

Yu Mo grew anxious, absently picking at the frayed edge of his sweater, until he finally made up his mind.

The next day, Qian, who was supposed to be out playing, suddenly burst into the room and tugged on his sleeve.

Yu Mo looked at her blankly, his mind still tangled in Skynet’s vulnerabilities, when the child suddenly leaned in and whispered, “Daddy, are we being held by bad guys?”

You’re just figuring that out now? You’ve been having a great time playing with the bad guys all week.

Yu Mo tapped a few keys to temporarily disable the room’s surveillance, then said to her, “Don’t be afraid.”

He looked at her expression—she didn’t look scared at all. In fact, she looked kind of excited. Still, he went on, “Someone will come to rescue us soon.”

He had used his hacking attempts to send out a distress signal. At the latest, they’d be found by tomorrow.

Qian blinked, gave a casual “Oh,” and ran off to play again.

She wasn’t scared at all. Sure, those people were part of a terrorist group, and they were moving weapons and explosives—but she was tougher than that. She had magic!

Besides, she’d come here to be the daughter of the hooded, mute dad for one reason: to save him.

That night, chaos erupted outside. Gunfire echoed through the air as Wu Nuo yanked Yu Mo roughly out of bed.

“Well done,” she sneered. “You sent a distress signal to the Federal Police and exposed our location. Happy now? They’ll be here any minute.”

“Too bad they’ll only be able to retrieve your corpse. Since you didn’t take the chance I gave you, you can die.”

She pressed the gun to his temple, eyes murderous. “And your daughter—she’ll be joining you soon.”

Yu Mo’s pupils shrank. He saw his child rubbing her eyes as she sat up. Wu Nuo suddenly changed her mind, shifting the gun toward Qian to kill her first.

“Don’t hurt her! I can help you—I’ll help you crack Skynet!” he blurted out hoarsely.

Wu Nuo was unmoved. She coldly pulled the trigger aimed at Qian’s head.

Yu Mo shut his eyes tightly. His breath came in ragged gasps as a vivid image of his daughter’s shattered skull flashed through his mind. It felt so real he instinctively grabbed at his clothes, trying to cover his head.

But even with his face hidden like he used to do, he still couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was suffocating.

Then, a pair of soft, warm little hands yanked his clothes away from his face. A curious voice asked, “Daddy, what are you doing?”

Yu Mo snapped out of his daze. He reached out and touched her head—no wound.

Wu Nuo lay unconscious beside the bed.

He didn’t know what had happened, but he quickly scooped Qian into his arms and hurried out.

They moved through the dark hallway. Outside, there were sounds of footsteps and gunfire.

Yu Mo was tense, stopping and starting, afraid of running into any of their captors.

Qian, nestled in his arms, felt the sweat on his forehead and whispered, “Daddy, are we escaping?”

Yu Mo nodded vaguely. He heard people approaching, calling Wu Nuo’s name. He frantically looked for a place to hide.

Then, in the next instant, a wave of dizziness hit him—and the world around them changed.

They were no longer in that labyrinthine building, but standing on the roadside outside a forest.

The child in his arms threw up her hands and cheered, “Yay! Escape successful!”

The die hanging from her neck was glowing blue, then slowly dimmed.

Yu Mo stood there, dazed, the night wind scattering his thoughts.

Wait… how did they get here? He rubbed the seam of his pants, unable to figure it out.

“You… just now…” he started to ask her, but was cut off by a group of people suddenly rushing out.

“Who’s there?!”

They were surrounded by armed soldiers in combat gear. Yu Mo saw the insignia of the police on their uniforms.

The soldiers recognized him too, murmuring in surprise.

“Isn’t this the guy we’re supposed to rescue?”

“But Team One just broke through—they haven’t even reached the inside yet. How did he already get out?”

“Quick, get them back to base!”

And just like that, Yu Mo, still holding Qian, was escorted to the nearest police station.

Qian had already fallen asleep on the way, drooling as she slept, leaving him alone to face a steady stream of police officers and agents from the Federal Security Bureau.

“We’ve reviewed your record. You’re incredibly talented—the kind of person we’re looking to recruit. We hope you’ll consider joining the Security Bureau…”

As they spoke, Yu Mo just sat there, staring off into space.

He didn’t want to join any organization—he just wanted to stay in his room.

Because of his refusal to cooperate, several different people had come to talk to him.

A stern-looking man tried to threaten him: “Even if you were coerced by a terrorist organization, attacking Skynet is still a criminal offense. If you join the Security Bureau, we can issue you an immunity agreement. But if you refuse, you’ll be facing a massive fine and at least three years in prison!”

Yu Mo remained unmoved.

Then a soft-spoken woman took over. She glanced at the child in Yu Mo’s arms and said, “Is this your daughter? What an adorable little girl. Don’t you want her to have a bright and smooth future?”

Yu Mo looked up at her briefly, then quickly lowered his head again.

Seeing this, the woman thought she had found a way in and continued, “If you’re convicted, she’ll be sent to a welfare institution. It’ll affect her future job prospects, and she might even face discrimination. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen.”

She spoke for quite a while, but Yu Mo showed no further reaction.

“If you join the Security Bureau, we’ll guarantee the safety of you and your family. Nothing like this will ever happen again.”

“Our senior employees receive family placement benefits. If you agree, we can enroll your child in an elite academy. From age three to eighteen, she’ll be cared for by professionals. You won’t have to worry about a thing…”

Yu Mo finally reacted. His eyes lit up with hope. “You mean… she’ll live at the school and won’t be with me anymore?”

The woman was momentarily stunned. “If you’re not comfortable with that, she can stay with you—”

Before she could finish, Yu Mo quickly agreed. “No need. Let her live at the school.”

“So… you’re agreeing to join us?”

Yu Mo nodded without hesitation.

Just the thought that the Security Bureau would help take care of the child brought him a sense of relief.

To be honest, back when Wu Nuo was so good with kids, he had even considered joining their organization just for that.

The woman gave him a warm smile. “You’re a good father. Willing to work with us for your child’s future.”

Yu Mo: “…”

By the time Qian woke up, Yu Mo had already signed the employment papers. He was about to move into the Security Bureau’s internal dorms for classified work.

And Qian was going to be taken to a special school.

Like a bolt from the blue, Qian nearly burst into tears. She clung to Yu Mo’s pants and refused to let go. “School again? I don’t wanna go to school!”

“Daddy, can we just go home?”

Yu Mo avoided her pleading gaze. Watching her cry and be taken away to school, he felt a twinge of guilt and unease… but mostly, he felt joy.

Even if it meant adjusting to a strange new dorm, he could live with that.

Per his request, his new home was also small, but fully equipped, spotless, with meal delivery and top-notch security. He could even work from his room.

On his first day of work, just before evening, he received a message from his liaison: the child had gone missing from the school.

Yu Mo gripped the communicator, lips pressed into a tight line, fingers hovering over the light-key.

He wanted to use his internal clearance to access Skynet surveillance to find her. It wasn’t allowed, but he was ready to do it anyway.

Just as he was about to act, the door opened.

The supposedly missing child strolled in like nothing had happened, tossed her backpack aside, ran to the fridge, pulled out his favorite soda, and chugged the whole can.

Yu Mo curled up in his chair, watching her. “…”

“Ugh.” Qian flopped onto the couch like a grumpy old man and sighed dramatically. “I really hate school!”

“How did you get back here?” Yu Mo asked.

Qian waved her arms and giggled. “I used magic! Poof! And I was here!”

Yu Mo was now certain—it really had been this child who helped them escape the terrorist group.

Not long after, her teacher and the liaison came to the door and dragged the truant child back to school.

Qian screamed the whole way, like a wild cat being captured by humans.

Yu Mo watched them leave, but a strange sense of foreboding lingered in his heart.

Sure enough, that night, as he sat in front of his light-brain eating the employee meal, a voice suddenly spoke beside him.

“What are you eating? I want some too.”

She had appeared without a sound. In the dim glow of the screen, her pale little face looked downright ghostly.

Yu Mo nearly choked to death, flashing back to horror films he’d seen as a kid about creepy little girl ghosts.

And so it went for a while.

One day, Qian suddenly said, “I’m leaving. I’ll come visit you again in a bit.”

Yu Mo froze, halting his work.

He watched her pull on her socks and shoes, finally stepping off the chair and walking slowly to the door. She opened it and waved goodbye.

After the door closed, Yu Mo finally voiced the question he’d been holding in.

“Where are you going?” he asked the empty hallway.

The door suddenly opened again. Qian poked her head back in and answered, “I’m going home to see my mom.”

Yu Mo looked down awkwardly. “Your mom… who is she?”

Qian asked, “Which mom are you talking about?”

Yu Mo: “…”

After that, Qian didn’t show up for a long time. She wasn’t at school, and she didn’t come to see him.

Yu Mo continued his isolated, room-bound life—but now, he started eating hot meals.

A year later, curled up asleep on his bed, he was woken by noise in the room.

He pulled down the blanket and saw Qian rummaging around like a little burglar.

“I’m starving, starving!” she shouted. “Dad, is there anything to eat in here?”

After that, she started dropping by every now and then. Sometimes she’d sprawl on the couch watching shows and eating snacks. Other times, she’d be doing some weird homework.

She looked absolutely miserable about the endless assignments and pitifully looked up at him. “Dad, can you help me with my homework?”

Yu Mo refused. He didn’t like homework either—especially essays.

After she forced him to help once, Qian gave up the idea entirely.

Not because he wouldn’t help—but because his handwriting was even worse than a feral dad’s. Her teacher took one look and scolded her, saying it looked like she had a grade-schooler do it.

The teacher’s exact words were: “I know you’ve been getting others to do your homework. That summer workbook had seven or eight different handwritings—what are you, collecting stamps? The one who did your reading comprehension had pretty nice handwriting. Just have her do the whole thing next time. And who wrote that essay? Did you get a first grader to do it?”

After that scolding, Qian solemnly gave up mooching off others for homework.

As she got a bit older, Qian suddenly announced she wanted to learn hacking and pestered Yu Mo to teach her.

After just one day of lessons, both father and daughter were on the verge of a breakdown.

Yu Mo gave up his chair and locked himself in the bathroom, refusing to come out.

Qian banged on the door from outside, swearing she’d stop learning and leave immediately. Only then did Yu Mo finally emerge.

Though she gave up learning his skills, it wasn’t long before she started bringing problems to him directly.

“Dad, take a look—can you crack this firewall?” she asked, cupping her face like a sunflower, eyes full of hope.

Yu Mo saw it was a completely new System. It wasn’t even a firewall, but he didn’t explain. He just dove into the research.

Qian didn’t rush him. She just waited patiently until he finally told her, “It’s crackable.”

She sat beside him, watching intently for a long time before finally saying, “I don’t get it. What is this stuff?”

Yu Mo could only show her the results of his work, pulling up a section and pointing at it. “Copy, paste.”

Qian lit up. “I get it now!”

Every time she showed up, she brought him some bizarre new problem. For Yu Mo, it was like playing a brand-new game—each of Qian’s challenges opened the door to a whole new world.

As Qian grew older, every one of her appearances began to feel like a rebellious child coming to collect a debt.

The door beeped. Yu Mo, buried in his work, heard footsteps behind him and someone flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “I’m exhausted! Almost got caught again—thank goodness I can run fast. I nearly died out there!”

It sounded like she’d just done something shady and was being chased for it.

Then, his debt-collecting daughter said, “Dad, got any money? Lend me some.”

Hearing that from a kid who looked no older than a few years was… truly bizarre.

Yu Mo: “……”

He pulled out his salary card and placed it on the edge of the table.

“Thanks, Daddy! You’re the best! Can I use up all the money on this card?” she asked, clinging to the back of his chair.

Yu Mo turned to look at this little money-burning machine.

She burst out laughing at his expression. “Just kidding! I couldn’t possibly spend that much, hahaha!”

“My dearest Daddy, I was thinking—your birthday’s coming up! Let’s go out for a fancy meal to celebrate!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Dad, what kind of gift do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“Got it. I know exactly what you want!”

Yu Mo had never really celebrated his birthday. Well, technically, back at the orphanage, he had once. Some wealthy benefactor came to sponsor them, and the orphanage held a charity event. They handed out little cakes and had the kids pose for photos.

But that day wasn’t actually his birthday. He’d just been chosen to “celebrate” one.

He had no desire to go out for his birthday, so as usual, he planned to “forget” about it. But Qian didn’t forget.

Before he could get strangled to death in his chair by his overly enthusiastic daughter, Yu Mo was forced to agree to go out.

“Dad, don’t be nervous! It’s just a simple birthday celebration—just a gift and a nice meal!”

Even hearing that, Yu Mo didn’t relax. Knowing Qian, he doubted it would be that simple.

At the Rubik’s Cube Tower restaurant, in a semi-private booth, with delicious food, they had a quiet meal.

Just as Yu Mo finally began to let his guard down, Qian cleared her throat and stood up.

A dozen burly men followed by a group of young, beautiful women strode in with great fanfare.

With a dramatic flourish, they unfurled a large red banner: “Happy 25th Birthday to Daddy Yu Mo!”

Yu Mo choked on his soda.

“Do you like it? I asked Mom to help me write the banner!” Qian beamed.

Yu Mo: …Which mom are you talking about?

And it wasn’t just the banner—they brought out a lavish six-tiered cake.

Two pretty girls stood to the side, shaking tambourines and drums to liven up the atmosphere.

Qian pulled out a microphone from who-knows-where, climbed onto a chair, and declared, “Today is my dad’s birthday, so I’m going to sing him a birthday song to thank him for all his hard work over the years!”

The burly men clapped thunderously.

Yu Mo sat stiffly, feeling the weight of all the eyes on him. His gaze darted around, desperate to find a place to hide—but there wasn’t even a crack in the floor to crawl into.

“Before I sing, I have a gift for Dad,” Qian said confidently. “I’m sure you’ll love it—it’s exactly what you want most right now!”

Under her relentless insistence, Yu Mo slunk into a corner and reluctantly opened the gift box.

Inside was a panda head costume—big enough to completely cover his face. It was the only thing in the room that could offer him any form of escape.

It really was exactly what he wanted most right now.

In that moment, she actually seemed like a thoughtful daughter.

He didn’t have a “most wanted” gift, so she created the perfect atmosphere to make one. She really understood the art of gift-giving.

Yu Mo put on the panda head, let out a long sigh, and in every sense of the word, everything went black. He listened as Qian finished singing the birthday song.

He thought that was the end of it—but Qian, still riding the high, sang two more songs. The cheer squad she’d somehow assembled kept the energy going strong. The whole place was on fire—except for him.

Yu Mo kept wondering—wasn’t this supposed to be a classy, upscale restaurant? Where was the staff? Why wasn’t anyone stopping this madness?

Why weren’t they being kicked out for being so loud?

Only when they were leaving did he realize the truth. The group of men and women stood at the door, smiling and waving.

“Dear guests, we hope you enjoyed our service. Please visit Rubik’s Cube Restaurant again!”

That’s when Yu Mo finally understood—they were the restaurant staff.

He swore he would never set foot in that place again.

Outside, Yu Mo held the panda head and asked, “Can we go home now?”

“Dad, don’t be in such a rush!”

“I want to go home.”

“Dad! Look over there!” Qian suddenly exclaimed.

Yu Mo’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up and saw colorful beams of light from the building across the street.

On the giant LED screen of the tower, bold words flashed: “Happy Birthday, Mr. Yu Mo.” The letters were so big they could be seen from miles away.

“There was supposed to be a photo of you too—the one where you cut your hair and showed your forehead,” Qian said.

Yu Mo stared at her in horror, already plotting how to hack the building’s system and delete the photo.

Qian laughed and tugged his arm. “But I figured you might not like that, so I didn’t include the photo.”

Yu Mo felt like he’d just dodged a bullet. He was even a little grateful she hadn’t actually put the photo up.

“Dad, aren’t I super thoughtful?”

Yu Mo’s chest rose and fell twice. He stared at her for a long while, then asked, “When’s your birthday?”

Qian tilted her head. “Oh? Are you planning a surprise for me too?”

Yu Mo didn’t know if it would be a surprise, but one thing was certain—he was going to get revenge on this wicked daughter!

So one day, everyone logging into the StarNet saw giant floating data-formed words in the sky:

“Happy Birthday, Qian.”

The orbital transit ads also looped the same message: “Happy Birthday, Qian.”

Every building, every billboard, from the digital world to the physical one, displayed those same words. It was practically psychological warfare.

Even when the federal SkyNet firewall came under attack, the words somehow got embedded into the intruders’ neural interfaces, playing on repeat like a virus.

Yu Mo, who orchestrated the whole thing, looked at Qian expectantly. Surely she couldn’t handle this level of embarrassment, right?

But Qian just giggled and sighed, “Dad, you love me *way* too much!”

Yu Mo: “?”

And to top it off, his boss called him in for a scolding.

“How could you be so flashy? But… since it’s to make up for your kid, we’ll let it slide this time. You never struck me as the high-profile type. Sigh, you’re really a good father.”

Yu Mo: “?”

Yu Mo decided then and there—he never wanted to celebrate another birthday again.

But for many years after, he was still forced to endure one raucous birthday after another.

His strange daughter was like a little asteroid, crashing into his life from time to time—always with impact.

(The End)