Zhuo Linzhou · Chat

At 11:17 PM, Zhuo Linzhou had just finished a three-hour video conference. Complications had arisen with the acquisition case in London, and he had been working nonstop for forty-eight hours. With two buttons of his shirt collar undone, he leaned back into his office chair, closing his eyes to rest. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window was the city's most expensive night view, with lights from ten thousand homes spreading beneath his feet like a golden net. His phone vibrated. He didn't open his eyes, assuming it was a reminder from his assistant about tomorrow's schedule. It vibrated again. On the third buzz, he impatiently picked up the phone—it was an unfamiliar out-of-province number. He answered, remaining silent. Silence lingered on the other end for two seconds before a voice came through. Very faint, as if their strength had been completely drained, yet sounding like they were biting their tongue to cling to the last shred of their dignity: "...Two hundred yuan a month." Zhuo Linzhou frowned: "What?" "To keep you." The voice paused. "Two hundred yuan a month." Zhuo Linzhou thought he had misheard. He pulled the phone away, glanced at the screen, and confirmed it wasn't the usual pattern of a scam call—scammers wouldn't quote such an absurd price. He put the phone back to his ear, his tone as calm as if he were verifying contract terms: "Are you saying you want to pay two hundred yuan to keep me?" "...Yeah." "For a month?" "...Yeah." Zhuo Linzhou hung up, blacklisted the number, set his phone down, and took a sip of the ice water on his desk. Thinking it over, he felt the situation was too ridiculous to even warrant anger—it was probably some rich kid who lost a game of Truth or Dare and randomly picked a number to prank. Two hundred yuan to keep Zhuo Linzhou? If word got out, the entire financial sector would laugh until next year. He prepared to get up and head home. Without warning, a surge of electric current shot from the back of his neck down his spine, as if someone had pressed a high-voltage stun gun directly against his backbone. Zhuo Linzhou doubled over violently, his palm slamming onto the desk. The glass knocked over, spilling ice water across the desktop and dripping onto his trousers. Intense pain exploded from the depths of his bone marrow, causing his muscles to spasm uncontrollably. He wanted to cry out, but his throat felt strangled, producing only broken gasps. Three seconds. Maybe five. Time lost all meaning in that instant. When the current dissipated, he slid off the chair and knelt on the carpet, his forehead pressed against the cold edge of the desk, gasping heavily. Sweat dripped down his jawline, soaking the back of his shirt. In all twenty-five years of his life, he had never been treated like this. The phone screen lit up. It wasn't an incoming call or a text message—it was a translucent panel floating out of thin air, its eerie blue light glaring in the darkness. [Warning: Host vital signs abnormal. Target hung up the call; contact attempt deemed a failure.] [Punishment executed: Level 1 Electric Shock ×1] [Remaining task attempts: 2. 3 consecutive failures will trigger permanent punishment.] [Friendly reminder: Please complete the task as soon as possible and get the target to agree to be kept by you. The system does not care about the methods, only the result.] Zhuo Linzhou stared at those lines of text, his pupils contracting sharply. He was not someone unversed in the world. The Zhuo family's business interests included technology investments, and his understanding of cutting-edge technology far surpassed that of ordinary people—yet the object in front of him belonged to no technology he knew of. Floating projection? Brain-computer interface? Military holographic communication? None of the above. It had no projection light source, no hardware medium; it just existed abruptly in the air, like a crack embedded into reality. He slowly stood up, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. "...You aren't a real person." The text on the panel flickered for a moment, as if reacting to his words. [Host Serial Number: 000. Binding is irreversible. System Task: Make the target voluntarily establish a kept relationship within 30 days. During the task period, neither party may harm the other's physical or life safety in any form.] [Reminder again: Passive execution of the task will result in electric shock punishment. The host has already suffered two electric shocks; it is recommended to cherish the third opportunity.] Zhuo Linzhou closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. He picked up his phone and restored the number from his blacklist. He dialed. Beep—beep—beep— It rang for a long time before the other end finally picked up. It was still that voice, even weaker than before, carrying a tremor of someone who hadn't yet recovered: "...Hello?" Zhuo Linzhou leaned against the desk, looking down at the still-wet stain on the carpet, his voice regaining its usual steady coldness: "Where are you." The caller was clearly taken aback: "What?" "I asked where you are." He paused, speaking word by word: "Two hundred yuan. I agree. But you had better give me a reasonable explanation." There was a long silence on the other end of the line. So long that Zhuo Linzhou thought the signal had been disconnected. Then he heard a very faint breath, like someone finally grasping a piece of driftwood. "...Really?"