29: Champagne storm at Steam Nomination Night

Cheng Mo's finger was still hovering over the Enter key, the data stream on the screen like an endless waterfall. Chen Hao rose from his workstation, his movements as stiff as a robot with rusted joints, clutching his phone while his lenses reflected a cold light.

"Steam Innovation of the Year nominations," he said, his voice as flat as a weather report. "'leap platform nightmare', three nominations: Best Design, Most Controversial, and Players' Masochistic Favorite."

Cheng Mo didn't move, nor did he even lift an eyelid. He stared at the private message that had just popped up—'My wife says I'm crazy, but my son is pointing at the TV and shouting that Daddy is a hero'—read it, took a screenshot, and saved it in 'Human Specimen 28-01'. Only then did he slowly turn his head to look at Chen Hao.

"Did they list 'Game Most Wanted to be Deleted' as an award too?"

"No." Chen Hao pushed up his glasses. "But the reason for the 'Most Controversial' nomination reads: 'It made fifty thousand adults around the world wet their pants in the same maze, which in itself is art.'"

Cheng Mo's lip twitched; it wasn't quite a smile, but more like a nervous tic. He leaned back into his chair, his hoodie rubbing against the worn-out office chair with a rustling sound. The server fans were still spinning, their hum so low it was almost inaudible, but both of their ears were so accustomed to it that they would notice any anomaly immediately.

"Are you drinking?" Chen Hao suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Champagne." He brandished the bottle in his hand. The edge of the metal cap was already somewhat oxidized and blackened, and the label was half-peeled, printed with some niche European brand. "The only bottle in the basement. Bought it three years ago, said we'd open it on 'the day the game goes live'."

"You didn't open it that day."

"That day, we were rush-repairing the physics engine."

"It's not launch day today either."

"But today is official nomination day." Chen Hao had already squatted down by the server rack, using a key to pry open a hidden compartment in the floor and pulling out a dusty cardboard box. Inside lay two champagne flutes, their plastic covers still intact. He carefully took them out, placed the bottle on the floor, hooked his finger through the wire ring, and aimed it at an empty corner.

"Don't point it at the equipment," Cheng Mo finally spoke.

"I know."

"I said, don't point it at the equipment!"

Before he could finish, there was a loud pop as the cork hit the ceiling, bounced off, and rolled into the gaps of a keyboard. Foam erupted like uncontrolled white lava, half of it going into the glass and the other half splashing directly toward the area beneath the main console—where three exposed power interfaces were connected to the core server.

"Shit!" Chen Hao dropped the bottle and reached out to block it, but his hand slipped, and the entire glass of champagne splashed onto the front of his shirt.

But the liquid had already seeped through the cracks in the floor and dripped onto the interface board.

A second later, the alarm blared.

Red lights swirled, and a sharp electronic voice exploded through the basement: "Liquid intrusion detected, initiating self-destruct sequence! Countdown: ten seconds! Nine—"

Cheng Mo slammed his hand on the emergency stop button, but there was no reaction.

"Where's the backup power cutoff?" he roared.

"On the floor below!" Chen Hao had already lunged behind the main unit, jamming his fingers into the cable tray and yanking hard on the power cord. His glasses were crooked, his shirt was soaked, and he was still muttering, "Who the hell designed a circuit diagram that puts the main power supply on the lowest level... this is more anti-human than the third fork in the maze..."

"Seven—six—"

Cheng Mo grabbed the metal pen holder from the corner of the desk and smashed it against the physical switch on the side of the distribution box. With a clang, the lights flickered but didn't go out.

"Pull the hard drives!" He lunged to grab the data modules.

"Too late! The whole array is linked!" Chen Hao finally yanked out the main line with a forceful pull.

The world went quiet.

All screens went dark, the alarm cut off, and even the fans stopped. The basement fell into a silence that was almost like a vacuum, with only the sound of champagne slowly overflowing from the bottle and dripping onto the floor being exceptionally clear.

Drip.

Drip.

Cheng Mo panted, his hands propped on the edge of the desk, his forehead beaded with sweat. Chen Hao knelt on the floor, still clutching the power cord, his fingertips turning white.

Just then, the only monitor suddenly flickered to life.

It wasn't a startup screen, nor was it a BIOS self-test.

It was a single line of white text displayed in the center:

[April Fool's Easter Egg triggered. Obtained 'Fire Player' medal.]

Immediately after, an animation appeared: a cartoon stick figure wearing a firefighter hat stood in a pile of burning servers and saluted, with a gold-stamped medal floating above its head that read "Fire Player Lv.1".

Cheng Mo stared at it for three seconds before slowly sitting back in his chair.

"This system..." he muttered, "is more of a drama queen than you."

Chen Hao took off his glasses, wiped them with the corner of his shirt, and straightened them again, his tone as calm as if he were analyzing a log: "It's because your code is written too much like a scammer's. The self-destruct sequence doesn't go through the graphics rendering pipeline at all; it doesn't even load the graphics card. That was just a fake alarm, a prank purely at the UI level."

"So there's no liquid detection sensor at all?"

"There is. But it's only connected to the alarm light, not the countdown."

"You mean we almost pulled a running data array just now for a PowerPoint effect?"

"To be precise, you almost caused an abnormal shutdown leading to index corruption." Chen Hao stood up and plugged the power cord back in. "Next time you want to celebrate, I suggest you check the system update logs first."

The main screen rebooted, and the data was restored as before. The number of global online players remained stable at 127,000, hot threads on the forum were still refreshing, and the proportion of discussions related to "Hell Messenger" rose to sixty-one percent. And that virtual medal hung quietly on the studio's account homepage—it couldn't be clicked, had no attributes, and no description text.

Cheng Mo stared at it for a while and suddenly laughed. This time it was a real laugh; his shoulders shook, and the laughter was brief but genuine.

"Alright, quite the prankster," he said, casually moving the champagne-stained folder on the desk to reveal the original design sketch underneath—the topological structure diagram of the 17th-floor maze, with a smiley face drawn in the corner.

Chen Hao squatted back by the server to check the dryness of the interfaces. He used a paper towel to dab away the residual liquid bit by bit, muttering, "The motherboard is fine, the power module is normal, it's just that the Channel B network port shows some signs of corrosion... I'll have to replace it with a waterproof cover later."

"Can't afford it," Cheng Mo said.

"Then use tape."

"Tape it then."

The scent of champagne still lingered in the air, mixed with the smell of metal and dust. The original tense atmosphere was somewhat diluted by this blunder, but it hadn't completely dissipated. Cheng Mo didn't look at the data stream again, nor did he continue organizing the specimen files. He just sat there, his right hand on the keyboard and his left hand spinning a pen; with a snap, the pen tip broke.

He looked down at it and casually tossed the broken pen into the wastepaper basket.

Chen Hao finished wiping the last interface, stood up, and checked the time: 7:43 AM. He took off his wet shirt, leaving only a tank top, and pulled a clean one from his backpack to change into. The old shirt was crumpled into a ball and thrown into the laundry basket in the corner.

"When will the nomination results be announced?" he asked.

"The eighth of next month."

"Are we going to the ceremony?"

"Not going. Wearing a suit is harder than clearing the 17th floor."

"Then at least turn off this damn alarm. If water actually gets in and the system is still doing a comedy routine, we'll really end up burning."

"You're right." Cheng Mo opened the backend management interface, searched for "liquid_detection_alert", found the script file, and double-clicked to enter edit mode. He deleted the countdown voice module and replaced it with a new prompt:

"[Note: Liquid proximity detected. Please do not place drinks above the equipment. — From a developer who once cried over his own stupidity]"

Save, submit.

Chen Hao glanced at it and snorted: "Now that looks like code written by a normal person."

Cheng Mo didn't respond. He leaned back into his chair and looked up at the second-hand arcade machine on the wall, its screen covered with curse notes sent by players, one of which read: "May you dream of the 17th-floor corridor every night."

He tugged at his hoodie sleeve, which still had a small champagne stain on it. His fingers unconsciously touched the silver stud in his right ear; it was cold.

Footsteps of a courier came from outside, approaching from a distance and stopping at the door. Then came a knock.

"Extreme Challenge Studio? There's a package for you."

Cheng Mo and Chen Hao turned their heads at the same time.

No one moved.

The footsteps receded.

The room fell silent again.

Cheng Mo looked down and saw the cork that had flown out wedged in the gaps of his keyboard, with the wire ring still wrapped around it. He used a pen to pick it out and placed it on the corner of the desk, next to the broken pen tip.

Chen Hao sat back at his workstation, opened the code editor, and began writing a new protection protocol. The cursor flickered, and the first line read: "// Anti-Accidental Touch Mechanism V1.0 - Prohibit celebratory actions from endangering the production environment".

Cheng Mo stared at the screen and suddenly said, "Next time we buy champagne, get it in a plastic bottle."