"How did he even do it?"
Ji Jia didn't have to wait long. The computer she'd set back into standby mode sprang to life once more.
And this time, the hacker clearly wasn't entering through the boot password—he had directly seized the superuser's privileges through some method she didn't even understand.
Normally, hacking attempts revolved around two core elements: passwords and privileges.
Having the password allowed remote login into the targeted system, while gaining privileges granted free access to alter any file within.
There were plenty of ways to crack a password, but the simplest and crudest was a brute-force method.
Assuming the attacker had a reliable way to recognize the correct combination, they'd systematically test every possible password sequence until the right one appeared.
Typically, this brute-force approach required specialized software, extensive password libraries, and robust computing power.
Especially in Chen Ze's previous, far-future society, dynamic encryption meant passwords changed so frequently that unless billions of attempts could be made in mere seconds, success was practically impossible.
Which led directly to another cracking method—exactly the one Chen Ze had just employed—"physical intrusion."
Just as the name implied, this method exploited physical defects or backdoors deliberately left in systems by their developers.
Hackers mastering this approach could entirely bypass password cracking steps, directly taking the highest administrative privileges and leaving the victim helplessly watching their computer slip out of control.
Just like Ji Jia was doing now…
"How is this even possible!?"
Utter disbelief filled her eyes; what she witnessed had completely surpassed Ji Jia's existing "knowledge base."
Just how had that mysterious hacker managed to remotely seize control when the computer's privileges had already been entirely locked down?
"A developer's bug?!"
Fortunately, Ji Jia truly was a top student at the University of Tokyo. After a brief pause, she'd already guessed a highly plausible scenario.
As everyone knew, so-called "operating systems" were essentially platforms built upon artificially written programs.
Anything manually created inevitably had loopholes to exploit.
Beyond basic logic flaws, developers often deliberately left behind "backdoors" during the testing phase, allowing themselves emergency access if something went wrong.
These vulnerabilities—known as "malicious loopholes" or "developer backdoors"—existed inevitably in all human-designed systems.
Usually, for a mature commercial system like this, developers would remove such backdoors once testing ended, protecting their company's reputation.
But exceptions always existed.
Whether the intent was secretly collecting user data, or just negligence on the developers' part…
The computer in this convenience store obviously hadn't had its superuser backdoor removed, and thus had been conveniently exploited by that mysterious hacker.
"Looks like I've got yet another issue to bring up with the boss."
Surprisingly, Ji Jia wasn't nearly as frustrated as expected. Facing the mysterious hacker's breach, she even found herself calmly roasting her unreliable store manager once again.
...
"No more counterattacks from the other side?"
Though Renamon didn't entirely understand what had happened, seeing Chen Ze's visibly pleased expression, she timely voiced the question.
Renamon had spent a considerable time inside Chen Ze's computer, absorbing some rudimentary hacking knowledge. Yet, she wasn't anywhere near a truly competent hacker.
Just as Chen Ze had guessed, Renamon could freely navigate the digital realm purely due to her innate digital lifeform instincts, not because of advanced hacking skills.
However, after witnessing Chen Ze breaking into a vending machine and invading a convenience store computer, Renamon became increasingly curious about the mysterious craft known as "hacking."
The Digital World certainly had entities powerful enough to intrude into and manipulate data.
However, among Digimon, such prowess belonged exclusively to the strongest beings, often called "magic"—an ability to rewrite or manipulate solidified data to manifest what humans might call "miracles."
"I directly disabled their keyboard. Naturally, they can't counterattack now."
In hacker battles, seizing keyboard control was equivalent to defeating your opponent.
In fact, this was precisely why Ji Jia decisively stopped fighting Chen Ze directly, instead opting to grumble about her clueless store manager.
"The only way they can stop my intrusion now is to physically disconnect the cable."
"But even then, I've got other ways to break in—it'd just be a little more complicated, that's all."
Chen Ze's smugness was unmistakable; anyone could see it, let alone the intelligent Renamon.
"Actually…I think you could have shown a little mercy."
Hearing Renamon's sudden words, Chen Ze immediately spun around, his face a living question mark.
"Because the person you're hacking is actually a girl. And not just any girl—the pretty 'big-sister' type you're so fond of."
Renamon's expression remained as elegant and indifferent as always, yet Chen Ze swore he could hear a faint smile hidden beneath her calm words.
"But now I finally understand why your parents kept saying you'd be forever alone."
Too startled even to ponder how Renamon knew he liked mature, beautiful women—or how she knew about his parents' teasing—Chen Ze stared blankly for a long moment, finally turning his head slowly toward the convenience store.
Exactly as Renamon described, a refined-looking young woman was indeed sitting inside, staring at the computer with a deeply frustrated expression.
"..."
"In a hacker's eyes, skill alone is the standard by which everything is measured. Gender or appearance means absolutely nothing."
"..."
"And besides, I'm not some cheesy urban romance protagonist—I wouldn't go easy just because the opponent is a woman."
It was painfully obvious Chen Ze was merely rationalizing, but Renamon just smiled faintly, not bothering to refute him.
After all, as a standard Digimon, Renamon technically had no biological gender—at most, just a psychological gender inclination.
Her earlier remark was made mostly because she figured Chen Ze's parents would definitely mock him if they saw this situation unfolding now.
Rather than Chen Ze's current father's frequent emphasis on "gentlemanliness," Renamon—from the Digital World—actually agreed more with Chen Ze's last statement.
"You're right. True respect comes from strength of character, not from biological differences."
---
T/N: huehuehueh