The excitement lasted less than a minute before the cold water of reality poured down on me.
Whoosh—
A cold wind blew past the back of my neck, carrying the unique rotting stench of the wasteland.
I whipped my head around.
The wooden door, which had a large hole torn open by the zombie, was now gaping open helplessly like a mouth missing a tooth.
The gray fog outside was still thick, churning at the doorway as if it were alive. Through the hole, I could hear rustling sounds coming from deep within the fog.
Those were footsteps. And more than one. Clearly, the commotion here just now had attracted more "Data Waste" to approach.
"No, I have to block it up quickly."
I glanced at the countdown on my phone. The defense shield had completely failed. Right now, this hotel was like a naked beauty standing in the middle of a group of thugs—completely defenseless.
I quickly tapped open the [Facility Maintenance] interface on the terminal.
If I could use the system to repair the door, that would be best. After all, system products are always high quality.
However, when I saw the rows of grayed-out options, my heart turned cold.
[Item: Repair Door Physical Structure] [Status: Damaged (Data_Loss)] [Repair Price: 50 CP.]
[Item: Reboot Absolute Defense Shield] [Recharge Price: 100 CP / Day.]
"50 points?! 100 points?!"
I couldn't help but roar at the phone. "This is robbery! I risked my life to kill one monster and only earned 5 points, and you want 50 points just to fix a broken wooden door? Is this door made of gold?!"
I looked at the pitiful balance of 5 points in my account and felt suffocated.
Poor. Too poor.
This was simply a Hell Difficulty start.
However, this wasn't even the most despairing part. Just as I was freaking out about not being able to afford the door repair, a blood-red warning box popped up on the phone screen, accompanied by an ear-piercing alarm.
[WARNING: Debt Default Risk Alert] [Respected Heir, it is detected that the "100 Million Points" historical debt under your name has not yet been repaid.] [According to the Main God Space's "High-Risk Asset Management Regulations," the first day's interest (0.001%) will be automatically deducted tomorrow at 12:00 PM.] [Estimated Deduction: 1000 Points.] [If the balance is insufficient, your Life Points or Soul Fragments will be forcibly deducted.]
"One... One thousand points?!"
Looking at that number, my hand shook, and I nearly dropped the phone.
One thousand points just for one day's interest? I only earn 5 points for killing a zombie. That means I have to kill 200 zombies every day just to barely pay off the interest?
"Great-Uncle, you didn't leave me an inheritance; you brought me here to serve your prison sentence!"
Leaning against the cold counter, I felt my future was pitch black.
But complaining wouldn't get the work done. Since I couldn't pay the interest, I definitely couldn't die now. If I didn't block the door, let alone tomorrow's interest, I wouldn't even see tonight's moon.
"No money... there are ways to play without money."
I looked at the few disintegrated solid wood chairs in the corner of the lobby, then at the rusty hammer and box of iron nails in the counter drawer. A thought of "Primitive Method" popped up.
On the code level, the status of this door is Open (Enabled/Damaged). But what if I block it physically?
This is like a programmer encountering a Bug that can't be fixed. I don't fix the underlying logic; I just write an if (error) { return; } to suppress the error window! What do you call this? This is called "Spaghetti Code"!
As long as it runs, it's good code!
No sooner said than done.
I picked up the fire axe, rushed to the pile of broken chairs, and chopped them into wooden planks with a few bang bang sounds. Then I grabbed the hammer and nails and rushed to the main door.
The rotting stench was pouring in through the hole, stimulating my nerves.
"Don't come in... Don't come in..."
Muttering to myself, I placed the first plank across the hole.
Just as I raised the hammer to nail it down, by the weak light of the phone, I suddenly noticed something wrong with the fracture of the doorframe.
That wasn't ordinary wood. Inside the grain of the doorframe, there were tiny, wire-like lines mixed in. And at the break near the lock, a few faintly glowing symbols remained.
Those symbols looked like ancient magic runes, but also like high-tech integrated circuit patterns.
"This door... actually has circuits?"
I paused for a moment and instinctively reached out to touch those runes.
Zzzt—
A slight tingling sensation came from my fingertips. Those originally dim runes actually lit up slightly upon contact, flickering with a faint blue light.
[Residual Defense Spell Code (Damaged) detected.] [Attempt to link?]
A small line of text popped up on the phone.
My heart stirred. If I could reconnect these broken lines, could I restore part of the defense function?
I tried picking up an iron nail and carefully nailed it between two broken runes, attempting to use the metal nail as a conductor to "bridge" the circuit.
"Connect... for me!"
I smashed down with the hammer.
Zap!
Sparks flew. That iron nail instantly turned red hot and then melted. Not only did the two runes not connect, but they also went out completely, turning into a scorched black mark.
[Repair Failed.] [Insufficient operation precision. Required: Lv.1 Material Modification Authority or Professional Repair Tools.]
"...Fine."
I looked at the scorch mark, the corner of my mouth twitching. Sure enough, trying to use physical means to repair magic (or code) was too naive. I was just a caveman with a hammer facing a broken supercomputer; I knew nothing but smashing.
"Since I can't do the delicate stuff, let's go with the brute force method!"
I completely gave up on the idea of repairing the runes and turned back to continue my "Grand Door-Sealing Mission."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I nailed planks across the hole in a haphazard manner. Horizontal, vertical, diagonal. Who cares about aesthetics? Who cares about structure? As long as it blocks the hole!
Ten minutes later.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I looked at the wooden door before me, covered in patches and ugly as a monster.
The original big hole had been sealed tight by my messy planks, airtight. Although it might still be broken in the system code, under physical rules, it was blocked.
Unless someone outside brought a chainsaw, ordinary zombies wouldn't be able to squeeze in easily.
This is a "Physical Patch."
Safe for now.
Ding!
Just as I threw down the hammer and prepared to collapse on the floor, the phone suddenly beeped.
I picked it up and almost laughed out of anger.
[Administrator active facility maintenance detected.] [Evaluation: Although the craftsmanship is extremely rough, the aesthetics are worrying, completely non-compliant with the architectural aesthetics of the Main God Space, and simply an insult to data... it effectively solved the physical intrusion hazard.] [Achievement Unlocked: Spaghetti Code Engineer.] [Reward: Computation Points +2.]
"Spaghetti Code Engineer..."
I looked at these words, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "Fine, as long as you pay me, you can call me a Garbage Man for all I care."
The balance turned to 7 Points.
I looked at the phone screen, then at the dim and dilapidated lobby around me.
The wind had stopped. The crisis of imminent invasion had lessened slightly.
But I knew this was just the calm before the storm. I had money now. Although only 7 points. But these 7 points must be spent where it counts.
If I didn't figure out how many hidden dangers this hotel still had, and didn't figure out what Bugs I could exploit, I might die from some invisible trap before the sun rose tomorrow.
My gaze turned to the icon in the store that had been attracting me all along.
[Basic Function: Code Vision (Single Trial Version)] [Price: 5 Points]
"Investing in intelligence... is never a loss."