26: Dynamic copyright light and shadow maze

Before the air currents from the subway roaring into the station had even dissipated, Cheng Mo and Chen Hao were already squeezed into a corner of the carriage. The trademark acceptance receipt in Cheng Mo's hoodie pocket dug hard into his thigh, like a freshly welded sheet of iron. He chewed on a half-eaten lemon-flavored lollipop; the sweetness had faded, leaving only a trace of sourness swirling at the back of his tongue.

"Finally nailed the brand down," he said softly, his phone screen lit up with the company archive interface. His fingertip slid across, dragging the serial number TM202504060017 into an encrypted folder, then clicked 'archive'.

"Legally, it's a closed loop," Chen Hao said, pushing up his glasses, his backup phone connected to the internal network backend. "But physically—"

Before he could finish, a remote alert pop-up from the main console directly breached the firewall and slammed onto both their phones.

[Red Alert: Detected 37 foreign mirror sites distributing cracked versions of 'leap platform nightmare']

[Some links have climbed to 3rd place on the pirated resource trending charts]

[Recommend initiating countermeasures protocol immediately]

Cheng Mo stared at the three characters for "cracked version" and smirked. "We just got the certificate, and someone's already opening a copy shop right behind us?"

"Not copying, but tracing," Chen Hao quickly pulled up the server logs, his finger skimming over a string of IP addresses. "All the master packages come from the same decryption source. The method is professional; it's probably a professional cracking group that's set their sights on us."

"Does that mean we're getting popular?" Cheng Mo bit off the lollipop stick and casually tossed it into an empty soda can.

"It means our user profile is being replicated," Chen Hao took off his glasses and wiped them. "And faster than we anticipated."

The train arrived at the station. They walked out of the underground passage. The iron door of the old factory building gleamed rustily in the morning light. Cheng Mo swiped his card to enter, heading straight for the main console. On the screen, the pirated links were growing like weeds, with click counts climbing in real-time.

"Reporting to the police is useless," he sat down, pulling out the keyboard tray. "By the time the police file a case, this game would have already been stripped down to pixelated dust."

"Then don't let them 'play'," Chen Hao opened a new code editor, creating a new project named "Watermark Engine V1.0". "Each startup generates a unique runtime environment, triple-encrypted with hardware fingerprint + IP + timestamp, embedded into the underlying logic flow. Once a pirated client runs, the system judges it as an illegal verification, automatically triggering a fake clear loop."

"Meaning?" Cheng Mo spun the pen in his hand, its tip clicking.

"They think they've beaten the BOSS, but they're actually just stuck on a 99% progress bar, never moving forward," Chen Hao typed the first line of code. "Always just one frame short."

"I like this setting," Cheng Mo laughed out loud. "More torturous than the real ending."

Chen Hao didn't respond, burying himself in coding. Cheng Mo got up and made two cups of instant coffee, placing one next to Chen Hao's hand. The rising steam fogged up the gold-rimmed glasses.

Eight hours later, the factory lights were still on.

Chen Hao rubbed his temples and saved the final version. "Dynamic Watermark Engine deployment complete. Now, every device's first run will generate a non-replicable identity identifier. Repeated watermark or illegal verification—the death loop activates."

"Test it?" Cheng Mo cracked his neck, making popping sounds.

"Must test," Chen Hao nodded. "But we can't use the official server, nor can we let real players mistakenly download it."

"Of course," Cheng Mo took an unregistered test phone from a drawer, plugged in the network cable, and installed a clean version of 'leap platform nightmare'. "We're only fishing for pirated fish, not tricking ordinary users."

He added an invisible tracking tag to the file—non-malicious, only for statistical access source tracking. Then he packaged the resources and uploaded them to three well-known piracy forums. The file name was exaggerated: 'leap platform nightmare Ultimate No-Install Cracked Version v1.0 Complete Edition No CDK One-Click Play'.

"Tempting enough?" He handed the phone to Chen Hao to show the upload records.

"Enough," Chen Hao glanced at it. "They'll scramble to download it."

The next day at 10:17 AM, the backend data flickered.

The tracking tag showed the resource had been downloaded over 2,300 times, mainly concentrated in Southeast Asia, Eastern Europe, and South America. The piracy site popularity continued to rise.

At the same time, abnormal forum posts began to appear.

Cheng Mo refreshed the page; a new title popped up: "Why does the final stage keep repeating?!"

The replies exploded: "I've killed the BOSS ten times! The progress bar is full! Why won't it go to the ending!"

Another, more desperate one: "Someone tell me how to quit this game?! The mission is done but it's still loading!!"

Someone else questioned their reality: "Is my computer infected? Or is this cracked version itself a virus?"

Chen Hao scrolled through them one by one, a slow smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Death loop is effective. They think they cracked the game, but the game actually cracked them."

"Maximized user experience," Cheng Mo leaned back in his chair, chewing on a freshly opened lollipop. "The angrier they curse, the deeper they're stuck."

"Error rate 0.3%," Chen Hao pulled up the monitoring panel. "Seven devices temporarily passed verification due to overly similar hardware signatures. They've been blacklisted; next startup will freeze directly."

"Leaving some loopholes makes it feel more real," Cheng Mo waved his hand. "Sealing everything off would seem like a trap. Like this—it seems like they just lack the skill."

Chen Hao nodded and continued optimizing the algorithm. Cheng Mo picked up his phone and refreshed the forum again. The latest post read: "Begging for a master to save me! I've been playing for six hours! It says I've completed all challenges, but the screen just won't switch! I pressed Alt+F4 and it didn't work!!"

He laughed, took a screenshot, and sent it to the internal group with the caption: "Today's best user feedback."

The factory grew quiet, only the low hum of the server fans. Sunlight slanted in, falling on Chen Hao's fingers as he meticulously checked the encryption protocol line by line, ensuring every variable was irreversible.

Cheng Mo stared at the time in the bottom right corner of the main console: 14:23. He touched the silver earring on his right ear, recalling the warning flyer plastered on his pant leg on the subway last night—'Beware of Mind-Control Games'. If those flyers saw this scene now, they'd probably change their tune to 'Textbook Technical Counter-Kill'.

"Do you think Wang Zhen knows about this?" he suddenly asked.

"Definitely watching," Chen Hao didn't look up. "But he can't exploit it now. We didn't send lawyer letters, didn't wage a PR war, didn't file complaints with platforms. Pure technical countermeasures, legal and compliant, flawless."

"Then let him watch," Cheng Mo stretched, his hoodie riding up a bit. "We're not making moral judgments, nor are we rights-defending warriors. We're doing just one thing—making those who steal forever lost in the labyrinth."

He picked up his phone and refreshed the forum again. New posts were still popping up: "Has anyone tried pulling the power cord? Will it stop if I pull it?"

Below, someone replied: "Tried it. Boots up to the same stage."

The next reply was even more despairing: "Now I'm wondering if it's already uploaded my brainwaves..."

Cheng Mo chuckled softly and placed the phone back on the desk.

Chen Hao closed the code window. A system prompt appeared: [Dynamic Copyright Monitoring Module Running Smoothly, Zero Abnormal Access Currently].

"Entering the monitoring period," he said.

"Good," Cheng Mo grabbed the vibration motor from his backpack's side pocket, ready to solder it onto the test controller. "For the next feature, I want to add a 'Heartbeat Delay Feedback', making players feel palpitations half a second before jumping."

"According to the existing model," Chen Hao said while saving the logs, "the optimal failure node for this mechanism is on the 4.3rd attempt."

"Then set it to succeed on the fourth, and guaranteed to fall on the fifth."

The two returned to their respective workstations. Cheng Mo opened the toolbox, inserting a screwdriver into the motor's gap; Chen Hao opened a new document and began writing the maintenance manual for the watermark system.

Outside the factory, the city's noise continued as usual. But inside this old factory, a war without gunpowder had just ended—no confrontation, no declarations, only a Labyrinth of Light and Shadow woven from a string of code, quietly waiting for the next intruder.

Cheng Mo held half a lollipop in his left hand, his right hand swiping through the phone screen, browsing the rising and falling wails on the piracy forums, his expression relaxed yet mocking.

Chen Hao's gold-rimmed glasses reflected a blue light, his fingertips tapping rapidly on the keyboard as he adjusted the error rate parameters of the Dynamic Watermark System.