10: Chapter 10: The Loopholes in the Illusionary Realm Assessment

Zhou Bapi's revenge came faster than Lin Xu had anticipated.

The next morning, just as Lin Xu stepped out of the C-Block dormitory, he was blocked by two disciples from the Discipline Hall. They wore uniform cyan robes with badges on their chests that read "Academy Discipline Committee"—a power structure directly under the Dean's Office, theoretically independent of the various departments.

"Lin Xu?" The lead discipline disciple expressionlessly presented a jade slip. "Supervisor Zhou has reported you for using 'unknown sorcery' during a public class, disrupting teaching order, and being suspected of endangering the safety of your fellow students. According to Article 47 of the academy regulations, you are required to undergo a temporary 'Inner Demon Trial' assessment to verify the legitimacy of your cultivation's source."

Lin Xu took the jade slip, and his Source Text Vision automatically parsed its contents.

[File Type: Temporary Assessment Order, Issuer: Zhou Bapi (Acting), Approval Status: Did not pass formal procedures, Remarks: Urgent processing, immediate execution recommended.]

"Urgent processing without passing formal procedures?" Lin Xu raised an eyebrow. "Does this comply with academy regulations?"

"Internal affairs of the Talisman Department are entirely at the discretion of Supervisor Zhou," the discipline disciple's tone remained flat, as if reciting a pre-set script. "Please come with us. Refusal to cooperate will be regarded as an automatic forfeit and result in immediate expulsion."

Lin Xu smiled.

This was a classic case of "permission suppression"—exploiting procedural loopholes to bypass formal approvals and quickly execute decisions favorable to oneself. In his previous life working at a big tech company, he had seen too many similar instances of office politics. Zhou Bapi clearly intended to tamper with the Inner Demon Trial, either to make him a public laughingstock or to directly cripple his cultivation.

But what Zhou Bapi didn't know was that the essence of the Inner Demon Trial was the field Lin Xu excelled at most.

"Lead the way," he said.

The Inner Demon Trial Ground was located in the core area of the academy, a hemispherical building wrapped in multiple layers of barriers. From the outside, it looked like an inverted glazed bowl with colorful auras flowing over its surface; however, in Lin Xu's Source Text Vision, it presented a completely different appearance—

It was a massive spiritual energy computing cluster composed of hundreds of "Illusion Generation Nodes," each rendering different horrific scenarios in real-time. The nodes were interconnected via high-speed spiritual energy links, sharing a "Fear Parameter Library" and an "Inner Demon Behavior Model." The entire system's architecture looked remarkably like a data center from his previous life.

"I see..." Lin Xu quickly analyzed in his mind. "The so-called inner demons aren't real demonic creatures; they're personalized horror programs generated in real-time by the system based on the trial-taker's psychological traits. The Fear Parameter Library is the training data, the behavior model is the algorithm, and the Illusion Generation Nodes are the computing resources..."

This was an AI-generated content system. Moreover, judging by the bandwidth of the spiritual energy links and the computing power of the nodes, it was... an old system with tight resources.

"Trial-taker Lin Xu, prepare to enter." The discipline disciple stopped at the entrance. "Supervisor Zhou and the Array Department's 'Inner Demon Expert' will supervise the entire process from the observation room. Trial content: Persist for the duration of one incense stick in a 4K-grade horror illusion. During this time, you may not use any defensive artifacts and may not voluntarily exit."

"4K-grade?" Lin Xu noticed this unfamiliar term.

"This is the Array Department's new grading standard," the discipline disciple explained. "From 360P to 8K, the larger the number, the higher the realism and horror index of the illusion. 4K-grade is the standard difficulty for the Golden Core Stage, theoretically producing 'physiological-level fear responses'—accelerated heartbeat, adrenaline surges, and a blurring of the boundary between hallucination and reality."

Lin Xu nodded. This confirmed his suspicion—the "K" represented resolution, or rather... rendering precision. The larger the number, the more computing resources the system allocated, and the more detailed the generated images became.

And he had a way to make this system... downgrade.

Inside the illusion was a primeval forest.

It wasn't an ordinary forest; it was the kind... favored by horror movie directors. Moonlight was sliced into fragments by the dense canopy, casting distorted shadows on the ground; the howls of unknown beasts drifted from afar, while the crisp sound of snapping dry branches echoed nearby. The air was thick with the scent of decay mixed with blood, and every breath felt like swallowing some sort of viscous liquid.

Lin Xu stood in the center of the forest, sensing the surrounding "rendering quality."

The textures of the leaves were clearly visible, the chirping of insects had precise spatial positioning, and even the sensation of a breeze brushing against his skin was frighteningly realistic. This was 4K-grade—the system was running at full power, attempting to crush his sanity with extreme realism.

"A typical waste of resources," Lin Xu evaluated in his mind.

He activated Source Text Vision and looked directly at the illusion's underlying code. In his sight, those lifelike trees, horrific sound effects, and even the scent molecules in the air transformed into flowing lines of spiritual energy instructions. He saw the "Leaf Rendering Module," the "Sound Effect Synthesis Module," the "Olfactory Simulation Module"... every module was consuming a vast amount of computing power.

And most importantly, he saw the system's... maintenance interface.

It was a debugging port hidden deep within the "Environmental Parameters," which originally should only have been open to system administrators. However, because this illusion system was old and poorly maintained, the port's permission verification mechanism had a vulnerability—it only checked the requester's "spiritual energy signature" and not their specific identity identifier.

"In other words, as long as I can simulate an administrator's spiritual energy signature, I can access the debugging port..." Lin Xu thought quickly. "And my Source Text Editor just happens to be able to modify my own spiritual energy output characteristics."

He didn't act immediately. Zhou Bapi and that "Inner Demon Expert" were watching him from the observation room; if he appeared too relaxed, it would arouse suspicion. He needed to create a... dramatic effect.

Lin Xu began to "struggle" in the forest.

He acted as if his breathing was ragged, his footsteps unsteady, and his eyes unfocused, occasionally stumbling back a few steps in fright from the "monsters" in the hallucinations. From the perspective of the observation room, he was a poor soul being gradually crushed by the 4K-grade illusion, on the verge of a mental breakdown at any moment.

"It seems he's nothing special after all," inside the observation room, Zhou Bapi said smugly to the grey-robed elder beside him. "What 'Source Code Editor,' what 'Optimization Expert'? Before an inner demon, isn't he just a piece of trash?"

The grey-robed elder was the Array Department's "Inner Demon Expert," Zhao Wuji, who specialized in researching the operating principles of illusion systems. He frowned, staring at the crystal ball in front of him—it displayed Lin Xu's real-time status.

"Strange..." Zhao Wuji murmured to himself. "His fear index has been fluctuating around 50, neither rising nor falling. Normally, a 4K-grade illusion should cause a Golden Core Stage cultivator's fear index to break 80 within ten minutes..."

"It just means he's about to break; he's so scared he's gone numb," Zhou Bapi said dismissively.

But Zhao Wuji's intuition told him things weren't that simple. He pulled up the illusion system's background logs, preparing for a more in-depth analysis.

Now was the time.

Lin Xu sensed that the attention in the observation room had slightly wavered and immediately activated the Source Text Editor. His spiritual energy output characteristics switched within milliseconds, simulating an identity he had never seen—but according to the system response, this identity possessed sufficient permissions.

[Debugging Port Access: Passed. Current Permissions: Illusion Maintainer (Temporary). Available Commands: LOD Switch, Parameter Adjustment, Log Query, Emergency Exit...]

LOD Switch—Level of Detail. This was exactly what Lin Xu needed.

He didn't choose to shut down the illusion directly; that would be too obvious. He chose a more subtle, more... humiliating approach.

"4K-grade? Let's drop it to 360P."

The command was sent, and the illusion system's resource allocation changed instantly. The computing power originally used for rendering high-precision leaves, high-precision sound effects, and high-precision scents was urgently reclaimed and reallocated to other tasks—or rather, simply shut down.

The forest began to "downgrade."

The textures of the leaves became blurry, like an oil painting soaked in water; the distant beast howls turned into monotonous electronic synthesizer sounds; the scents in the air vanished, replaced by a certain... cheap fragrance. Most exaggerated of all, when an "Inner Demon Wolf" pounced from the shadows, its model precision had dropped to a pathetic level—the polygon count was less than a hundred, its movements were as stiff as a low-frame-rate animation, and even its horrific expression had turned into a mosaic.

Looking at this "360P Inner Demon Wolf," Lin Xu almost burst out laughing.

This was the difference between 4K and 360P. From "physiological-level fear" to "retro game art style," all it took was a single parameter adjustment.

He reached out and slapped the Inner Demon Wolf on the head. This monster, which should have brought intense pain and fear, felt like a clump of... low-quality cotton under the low-fidelity rendering.

"Awoo?" The Inner Demon Wolf let out a confused howl, then because of insufficient computing power, it got stuck in place, entering some sort of... infinite loop.

Lin Xu didn't stop. He began to stroll through the "downgraded forest," occasionally pointing out the "horror elements" that were behaving abnormally due to lack of resources.

"This treant's collision box is set incorrectly; it's clipping through the model."

"That ghost's sound effect loop has a bug; it keeps repeating the same line."

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

"The resolution of the blood stain texture on the ground is too low; it looks like ketchup..."

His voice was clearly transmitted to the observation room through the built-in microphone of the illusion system.

The complexion of Zhou Bapi shifted from smug to livid, and then from livid to deathly pale.

He turned to Zhao Wuji, his voice trembling: "Wh-what is going on? Did the illusion system malfunction?"

Zhao Wuji did not answer. He was frantically flipping through the backend logs, attempting to identify the source of the problem.

But Lin Xu's operations were too clean—he used the standard maintenance interface, and the records left behind looked just like... a normal system maintenance.

"Impossible..." Zhao Wuji muttered to himself, "Without administrator privileges, it's impossible to access the debug port... unless..."

He suddenly thought of something and abruptly looked up at the crystal ball.

In the projection, Lin Xu happened to look up, facing the void—facing the direction of the observation room—and revealed a meaningful smile.

That smile seemed to say: I know you are watching. I know you have discovered it. But you cannot catch me.

Because all of this is "legal."

When the time of one incense stick had passed, Lin Xu walked out of the illusion exit calmly.

His robes were neat, his breathing was steady, and his eyes were clear; he didn't look at all like someone who had just experienced a "4K-level horror illusion."

In contrast, the few disciples from the Array Department responsible for maintaining the illusion system were drenched in sweat, as if they had just finished a marathon.

"Trial passed." Zhao Wuji's voice came out from the amplification array, carrying a complex emotion, "But... but we need to conduct a comprehensive inspection of the illusion system. Today's trial results... are temporarily sealed."

"Why are they being sealed?" Lin Xu asked, feigning ignorance, "Didn't I follow the regulations and persist in the 4K-level illusion for one incense stick?"

"You... you used improper methods!" Zhou Bapi rushed over, his face flushed red, "You must have used some sorcery to interfere with the illusion system!"

"Sorcery?" Lin Xu tilted his head, "Supervisor Zhou, do you have any evidence? The backend logs should have recorded all operational logs. If you found that I used 'sorcery,' please point it out."

Zhou Bapi was speechless. He had certainly checked the logs, but everything the logs showed was "normal maintenance operations." He couldn't exactly admit that he had no idea how that "maintenance operation" had occurred.

"Additionally," Lin Xu continued, "I discovered some system vulnerabilities while in the illusion. As a member of the Zhongzhou Cultivation Academy, I believe I have an obligation to submit a BUG report to the relevant departments."

He took out a jade slip he had prepared beforehand and handed it to Zhao Wuji—while in the illusion, he had taken the opportunity to query the system's version information and known issues, compiling them into a professional report.

"I suggest adding an LOD switching mechanism to allow trial-takers to dynamically adjust the illusion's precision based on their own endurance. The current one-size-fits-all difficulty allocation wastes computing resources and easily causes unnecessary mental trauma. Furthermore, there is a vulnerability in the permission verification mechanism of the debug port; it is recommended to fix it as soon as possible..."

Zhao Wuji took the jade slip, his eyes widening as he read. The level of professionalism in this report did not at all seem like something a "Talisman Department auditor" could have written. It detailed seventeen optimization points for the illusion system, each accompanied by technical analysis and solutions.

"You... how do you know these things?" Zhao Wuji's voice trembled slightly.

"Reading documentation, analyzing code, and logical reasoning." Lin Xu shrugged, "This is basic engineering literacy."

He turned to Zhou Bapi, the corners of his mouth slightly raised: "Supervisor Zhou, do you still want to continue 'verifying the source of my cultivation'? I am ready at any time. However, next time, I suggest choosing a... more modern system. This kind of outdated illusion cluster has too many vulnerabilities; it's not challenging to play at all."

Zhou Bapi's complexion shifted from white to red, from red to purple, and finally into a... near-desperate ashen grey.

He knew he had messed with the wrong person.

That afternoon, the news of the "Talisman Department auditor cracking the 4K illusion" spread throughout the entire Zhongzhou Cultivation Academy.

The versions evolved as it spread. Some said Lin Xu had an immunity to inner demons, some said he carried an ancient defensive magical treasure, and the most ridiculous version claimed he was the "illegitimate son of the God of Illusions." But all versions agreed on one point: this young man named Lin Xu had made Zhou Bapi and Zhao Wuji lose face in a way that was almost humiliating.

Meanwhile, in the academy's high-level conference room, a debate regarding Lin Xu was underway.

"He must be severely punished!" Zhou Bapi slammed the table and stood up, "He openly disrupted teaching order and insulted his teachers; keeping such a person in the academy is a disaster!"

"But he did not violate any explicit rules," the representative of the Alchemist Guild said slowly, "On the contrary, the BUG report he submitted is very valuable. The Array Department has confirmed that the illusion system indeed contains those vulnerabilities he pointed out. Technically speaking, he helped the academy avoid a potential security crisis."

"That was just a lucky strike!"

"A lucky strike is still a strike." A cold, clear female voice rang out. The speaker was an elder of the academy's Discipline Hall, the direct superior of Yun Qingyi—although Yun Qingyi herself was not present at the moment, "More importantly, he demonstrated a kind of... technical capability we have never seen before. This capability may be related to 'that project.'"

The conference room suddenly fell silent.

"That project" referred to the pre-selection program for the "GM Training Base," a collaboration between the academy and the Imperial City Guard. Every year, the academy would recommend a very small number of "special talents" to enter this mysterious training system, and the majority of these people eventually became... unspeakable existences.

"He does indeed meet the criteria," another elder said slowly, "Abnormal technical capabilities, critical thinking regarding the existing system, and... a certain hard-to-control trait. But recommending him to enter 'that project' means we must give up direct control over him. Is it worth it?"

"It is worth it," the elder of the Discipline Hall said, "Because if we don't do this, he will find a way in himself. Rather than letting him become an uncontrollable variable, it is better to... incorporate him into the system and let him become a part of the system."

She looked out the window, her gaze seemingly piercing through layers of buildings, landing on a figure preparing lecture notes at the abandoned martial arts arena behind the mountain.

"Lin Xu..." She whispered the name, as if savoring a complex taste, "Let us see, you 'optimization expert,' to what extent you can optimize."

Meanwhile, at the abandoned martial arts arena behind the mountain.

Lin Xu stood on a moss-covered stone platform, facing thirty-some figures who were either sitting or standing. There were Mortal auditor students like Su Xiaoman, inner sect disciples disappointed with the Talisman Department, and even a few curious ones who had snuck in from other departments.

"Today's topic is: 'Basic Compilation Principles,' Lecture One—What is a Talisman."

Lin Xu's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. He did not use any amplification spells; he simply... adjusted the propagation parameters of sound waves in the air. This was a small trick of the Source Text Editor, with extremely low consumption and excellent results.

"In the academy's teaching, talismans are described as a mysterious art of 'unity of mind and spirit' and 'invoking heaven and earth.' But in my view, talismans are a type of... programming language."

He drew in the void, spiritual energy flowing with his fingertips, forming lines of glowing "code."

"Spiritual energy is the computing resource, talisman paper is the storage medium, and talisman runes are the syntactic structure. A talisman is an executable program. A Fireball Talisman is an output program, a Shield Talisman is a defensive program, and a Sound Transmission Talisman is a communication program... All talismans are, in essence, making specific API calls to the giant operating system that is the 'Heavenly Dao.'"

The audience was silent. Most people were struggling to understand these unfamiliar concepts, but Su Xiaoman's eyes were growing brighter and brighter.

"And 'Primitive Talisman Compilation Principles' is about teaching you how to... write your own programs, rather than just running programs written by others." Lin Xu looked at the crowd, "This is not an easy path. It requires you to give up blind obedience to 'authority' and learn to use logic and experimentation to verify everything. Are you ready?"

"Ready!" Su Xiaoman shouted first.

Others responded one after another. The voices were sparse at first, but gradually converged into a force that could not be ignored.

Lin Xu nodded. He knew that the spark of open-source had been ignited. And this was just the beginning.

On the edge of the martial arts arena, in the shadow of an ancient tree, a silver-haired figure stood quietly. Her data pupils flickered slightly, recording everything before her.

[Observation Subject: Lin Xu, Behavioral Pattern: Knowledge Dissemination, Threat Level: Re-evaluating...]

Yun Qingyi did not reveal herself. She just watched quietly, watching the man who was changing the world, watching those "abnormal data" that were awakening.

From her Firewall Core, a certain area that had never been triggered before, came a faint... throb.