273: Reverse engineering

There was static in the speaker, and Yan Shiduo's voice was gone.

Chen Wang stood in front of the main control console, looking at the holographic screen before him.

The screen was red and kept flashing.

He looked down at the wrench in his hand, then glanced at the smoking transmitter fragments in the recycling bin on the floor.

Lin Wei leaned back in her chair, her hands still trembling.

When she pulled out the data disk just now, coolant had splashed onto her clothes.

Amy Chen sat in the passenger seat, the USB drive still plugged into the spare port.

Her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, one beat after another, as if she were counting time.

"How long have they been monitoring us?" Amy asked, her voice flat.

No one answered.

Chen Wang walked over to the driver's seat, picked up the insulated pliers, clamped them onto the remaining wires of the transmitter, and flung them to the floor.

The metal head hit the floor with a "snap."

"That doesn't matter now," he said. "What matters is whether this system can still listen to us."

Lin Wei took a breath and stood up slowly.

Her mechanical arm made a faint sound; the palm opened, revealing a row of small pins.

"The Tinder Protocol has been changed," she said. "The original identity verification method is no longer used; now it connects directly to the Empire's master brain. We're not driving a vehicle; we're driving their remote tool."

Amy nodded: "That's why the weapons charge on their own, and the Shield suddenly shuts off. It's not protecting us anymore; it's waiting for orders."

Chen Wang didn't speak.

He reached into the maintenance slot on the side of the main control console and felt for a small hole with a notch.

This was a mark he had left when he used to repair the vehicle.

He aimed the tip of the wrench at the spot and gave it a gentle turn.

Click.

A soft sound.

The holographic screen flickered suddenly, and a line of text appeared: [Hardware Intervention Detected] [Requesting Permissions].

Lin Wei immediately pulled up the code interface.

Many characters were rolling across the screen, some green, some red, and some disconnected.

She connected her mechanical arm to the bus and began to check the underlying protocols.

"To regain control, we need to perform a reverse injection," she said. "We'll create a fake instruction, make the system think it's a command from the Empire, and then sneak in our verification package."

"Can you do it?" Chen Wang asked.

"Yes," Lin Wei nodded. "But I need the real handshake frequency. Not the cracked kind."

Amy took a silver USB drive out of her pocket, pulled it out, and plugged it into Lin Wei's terminal.

"Three years ago, I traded two cases of fuel for a signal fragment," she said. "Later, I traded medical pod parts for three passwords. This USB drive stores the initial handshake protocol for Northern Empire high-level communications."

Lin Wei swiped across the screen.

The data began to load, and the progress bar moved slowly.

"Not enough computing power," she frowned. "The vehicle name's current processing capability is only 30% of what it used to be. A full decryption will take at least four hours."

"We don't have four hours," Chen Wang said.

The wind and snow outside were heavy.

There were twelve red dots on the radar, stopped three kilometers away.

The energy readings were constantly changing, and no one knew when they would charge over.

Amy glanced at the time and said in a low voice: "The black tide warning will be lifted in fifty-seven minutes. If we can't fix the system before then, the next energy storm will be too much for the Shield to handle."

Lin Wei bit her pen cap, then suddenly looked up: "I don't have to wait for the decryption to finish; I can simulate operator input directly using my neural signals. That would be faster."

"Too dangerous," Amy said immediately. "Your brain is not a machine. Forced synchronization could damage your nerves."

"I know," Lin Wei said, "but this is the fastest way."

She raised her wrist, preparing to connect to the mechanical arm's direct-link mode.

At this moment, Amy reached out and pressed down on her hand.

"Don't use your own brain," she said. "Use my rhythm."

Lin Wei was stunned for a moment.

Amy's fingers rested on her wrist, while her other hand quickly entered a string of numbers.

"I discovered something while trading in the caravan," she said. "All encryption systems have patterns. Their servers have a tiny delay every seven seconds, just like a person breathing. I memorized this rhythm."

Lin Wei's eyes lit up.

"You mean... we can insert a fake signal into this gap?"

"Yes," Amy said. "You don't mimic the content, only the timing. It's like two people talking; you don't need to understand what they're saying, you just need to know when to nod."

Lin Wei immediately adjusted the program. She set the delay frequency Amy recorded as the trigger pulse. The mechanical arm began to preheat, and the interface glowed with blue light.

Both of them reached out at the same time, their fingertips touching.

In that instant, the holographic screen flickered violently, and a new projection appeared.

It was a 3D structural diagram, layer upon layer, like a honeycomb. In the center was a line of text: [Tinder Protocol Management Center].

"This is..." Lin Wei said softly.

"The Empire's master brain," Amy said. "They control the core of all Tinder carriers."

Chen Wang walked over and stared at the model. He saw many data cables extending from the center, each connected to a serial number. One of the cables was labeled "7-23-0419."

That was the serial number on his father's pocket watch.

It was also his birthday.

He didn't speak, turning back to the main control console.

"Now we know where they are," he said, "and we know how they communicate."

He placed the wrench on the console, took off his jacket, revealing the burn scar on his left arm. Then he picked up the alloy wrench and walked to the side of the main control console.

"It's time to patch the system."

Lin Wei opened the virus loading interface. The progress bar displayed "Ready." Amy stared at the data stream, her hand still resting on Lin Wei's wrist.

"Once it starts, it can't be stopped," Lin Wei said. "If the system detects an anomaly, it will disconnect immediately, or it might even self-destruct."

"Then don't let it detect anything," Chen Wang said.

He aimed the tip of the wrench at the emergency hole and pushed it in with force.

Sparks flew everywhere, emitting a harsh, grinding sound.

The holographic screen turned red, and a warning popped up: [Illegal Hardware Intervention Detected] [Force Takeover?].

The countdown began: 10, 9, 8...

Lin Wei launched the virus program.

Amy entered the final piece of code.

Chen Wang pressed the confirm key.

The screen paused for a second.

Then, all the red light vanished.

In its place was a slowly rotating blue ring. Data rearranged itself, and characters fell continuously.

The lights inside the vehicle turned from red to blue, and the alarm sound grew fainter.

The weapon charge bar stopped rising, the Shield returned to "Standby," and the oxygen circulation returned to normal.

"Did it work?" Lin Wei asked softly.

"Partially," Amy said, looking at the terminal. "The protocol hasn't been completely rewritten, but we've entered the underlying layers. Now the system listens to the Northern Empire half the time and to us the other half."

"That's enough," Chen Wang said.

He held onto the main control console, watching the blue light. The wrench was still inserted in the hole, like a nail connecting two worlds.

Lin Wei sat back in her chair, her forehead covered in sweat. Her mechanical arm was still vibrating slightly, but she ignored it. She stared at the honeycomb model on the screen and suddenly said:

"They aren't selecting suitable people."

"What?" Amy asked.

"They are testing," Lin Wei said, her voice very soft. "Every Tinder carrier is an experimental subject. We are not survivors, nor are we seeds. We are... test subjects."

Chen Wang didn't turn back. His fingers traced the surface of the main control console, feeling that old scratch.

Parts don't lie.

But the people who write the code do.

He looked up at the holographic screen.

The blue light was still rotating.

The data was still flowing.

Suddenly, a string of numbers popped up at the bottom of the screen: 73.0419.

That was 73 degrees north latitude.

The coordinates of the Northern Empire's master control center.

Chen Wang gripped the wrench and pushed it in hard.

The metal was completely inserted to the end.