《Dead Code - The Divine Glitch That Made Me God》 Prologue [DIAGNOSTIC LOG [ITERATION 196420173]: HANA PROTOCOL INITIATED ¡ª INTEGRITY CHECKSUM FAILED. HANA PROTOCOL CORRUPTED. REFACTORING¡­ REBOOTING SEQUENCE 4a75646520313a36¡­ REBOOT COMPLETE. INITIATING SEQUENCE¡­] *** Nebulous divine code dissolved into static, the sound of heavy rain creeping into my senses as the darkness receded. A burning sensation in my legs began to grow, my wet feet splashing through puddles¡ª We ran through the pouring rain in blind terror, the dark alley ominous at this late hour. Dumpsters and trash lined the sides as my sister half-dragged me by the arm, my small legs struggling to keep up. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Over here!¡± Her voice edged with fear-fuelled adrenaline. ¡°Yuna, I can¡¯t-¡± I cried, tears streaming down my face. My breathing came ragged as my legs gave out. I fell to the ground, struggling to breath, my little heart pounding like a drum. Yuna picked me up and ran to one of the dumpsters, a ragged tarp covering some rotting wooden crates. ¡°Get in.¡± Without a moment''s hesitation she pushed me under the tarp; the dry smell of musk a sharp contrast to the oppressive rain outside, my heavy breathing suddenly loud in my ears. Kneeling down beside me, I felt Yuna¡¯s warm breath on my cheek: ¡°Whatever happens, you stay here, okay? You don¡¯t move, no matter what you hear. Promise me, Ji-hyun!¡± I nodded, scared, trying not to cry any more for her. She lowered the tarp and stepped away. ¡°Yuna!¡± I cried out, instantly afraid, lifting the tarp back up. Yuna knelt back down again and kissed my forehead gently, her hair plastered by the rain. ¡°Don¡¯t forget about me.¡± I whispered, staring into my big sister¡¯s eyes with fear. ¡°Never,¡± she swore with one last fleeting smile of love. Further back down the alley, the sound of sharp metal dragged along the brick wall, echoing with sinister intent. Yuna moved away from me, the rain silhouetting her in a shimmering silver aura. ¡°He¡¯s coming...¡± Her voice carried softly through the rain¡ª Chapter 1: A Broken Heart Jin Ji-hyun felt the irregular pulse of his nineteen-year-old heart as it struggled to beat, one frail thump after another, murmuring in despair. He gripped the sheets of the hospital bed tight, as he tried to keep calm, willing his broken heart to hold on just a little while longer. Dappled sunbeams fell between the curtains, bleaching his pale skin, taunting him with the promise of a happy life outside these walls. Ji-hyun exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as the weight of so many disappointments began to slip away. He looked towards the window wistfully, a fatalistic hope beginning to bloom where he had allowed none to find root before. Maybe this time¡­ but he tried his best not to finish that thought, as tempting as his dawning optimism felt. After three years on the heart transplant list, Ji-hyun¡¯s luck finally seemed ready to switch allegiances. Dr. Choi entered the room, his starched-white lab coat a second skin draped around his middle-aged frame, his hair greying at the temples. Ji-hyun wondered if he¡¯d get the chance to look like his doctor one day, his own body near skeletal in comparison, flesh sunken by hunger and atrophied muscles. For a moment memories came unbidden into his thoughts: The peeling, damp walls of the orphanage¡¯s dormitory, a cavernous room lined with empty beds save Ji-hyun¡¯s. He could hear the other children shrieking and laughing with delight outside, playing games in the sunlight. He sat in bed in his threadbare pajamas, reading a book, sad grey eyes hidden behind a pair of thick-lensed glasses. Even then he¡¯d been small for his age, his growth stunted by the malady of his broken heart. Unable to read anymore, he closed the book and climbed out of bed, his bare feet unsteady on the cold, wooden floor. Slowly, he walked towards the big, bay window, his muscles quivering in discomfort, weak from little use. By the time he reached the window he was wheezing, out of breath. He sat there, looking down at the playground, watching the others play their myriad games, each of them a bird in flight that he could only watch with marvel and envy. ¡°Ah you¡¯re awake, Ji-hyun. Excellent.¡± Dr. Choi¡¯s voice shook Ji-hyun from his momentary reverie. His voice was the kind you¡¯d want in a doctor, one filled with a warm self-confidence that hinted at empathy, veering away from anything resembling pity. ¡°Dr. Choi¡­ of course.¡± Ji-hyun sat up slightly at the doctor¡¯s words, wincing in pain at the effort. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I could keep my eyes closed, even if I wanted to,¡± Ji-hyun let the sentence hang, but the doctor nodded, understanding. ¡°You¡¯ve been waiting a long time for this transplant, it¡¯s understandable. I¡¯m told they¡¯ll have the heart here within the hour, so we¡¯ll start preparing you for the surgery in a few minutes. It¡¯s been a long road, Ji-hyun, but we¡¯re finally here,¡± he smiled and Ji-hyun¡¯s hands finally began to relax their grip on the bedsheets. Dr. Choi had been treating Ji-hyun for the past five years, making him the closest thing to family Ji-hyun had left. The doctor picked up the chart at the end of the bed and thumbed through it, checking the recently recorded vitals. ¡°Everything¡¯s looking good here. It seems you¡¯ve been taking care of yourself. I appreciate that. You deserve this, Ji-hyun - don¡¯t let yourself forget that, not for a moment.¡± Ji-hyun allowed himself to smile for the first time in many, many years. Though the smile quickly turned to a grimace, as a painful heart palpitation shook through him, violently denying Ji-hyun the brief respite of happiness.. Maybe this time.. ¡°How have things been since I last saw you? It¡¯s been what? A good five months since your last visit.¡± Dr. Choi ignored Ji-hyun¡¯s spasm, sparing him the indignity of false comfort. ¡°It¡¯s been quiet. I¡¯ve been keeping myself busy at work.¡± Liar! Ji-hyun nodded to himself, a little too enthusiastically, his smile starting to break as his brow creased. The truth still rubbed raw, again memories intruding upon him. Ji-hyun¡¯s boss screamed at him for being late, once again, indifferent to his medical difficulties; the irate man had laid Ji-hyun off publicly, in the middle of the office in front of all their colleagues, who watched in a mixture of horror and embarrassment for Ji-hyun, after he¡¯d missed yet another software development meeting. The bus Ji-hyun tried to take to work each day, refusing to wait as he struggled to reach the bus stop in time. The sick smirk on the bus driver¡¯s face as he drove away. Ji-hyun¡¯s lungs panting as he pleaded for the bus driver to come back, to no avail. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Dr. Choi didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°That¡¯s great to hear. Are you working on anything interesting?¡± ¡°Well actually,¡± Ji-hyun lived for programming, his introduction to the world of computers had been revolutionary. A beaten up pile of junk. The janitor plugging in an old machine, showing Ji-hyun how a computer worked for the first time. A childhood spent exploring circuit boards, soldering wires, and learning - always - learning. Ji-hyun¡¯s teen years were spent coding through all hours of the night at his little bedside desk, its lamp illuminating his lonely island of resolution amidst a sea of sleeping souls. Ji-hyun caught himself, after all he couldn¡¯t exactly talk about the type of coding he really loved, namely hacking - at least not in any way the good doctor might understand. ¡°I¡¯m developing a self-propagating optimization framework that autonomously integrates into system-¡± Dr. Choi¡¯s eyes were already glazing over as the nurse rolled a trolley in. Clearly relieved, he took the opportunity to interrupt Ji-hyun. ¡°Ah, I see the nurse is ready to start prepping you. I¡¯ll let her get on with it. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be back with you before they put you under. Okay?¡± Dr. Choi wiggled his eyebrows with a warm, well-practised smile of optimism. Ji-hyun nodded affirmatively, more to himself than anyone else as the doctor stepped back out into the hallway to continue his rounds. The nurse smiled at Ji-hyun as she set up beside him. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get started shall we?¡± The nurse spoke softly. Maybe this time. *** The squeak of the hospital bed¡¯s wheels echoed down the corridor as two orderlies pushed Ji-hyun towards the operating room. A sea of faces stared back at him as he passed by, each with their own suffering to contend with. Try as he might, Ji-hyun struggled to push down the fear threatening to devour him, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as his breathing began to grow ragged. It¡¯s going to be okay, I¡¯m going to be okay¡­ Then why did those words feel like a lie? After all, when had anything ever gone right for Ji-hyun? His eyes flicked about nervously, desperate to distract himself from the fear. Suddenly the squeaking stopped, as the orderlies reached the elevator. ¡°So, what do you say, Ji-hyun? Ready for Life 2.0?¡± Dr. Choi appeared beside him as the elevator doors pinged open. The orderlies began to push him in. ¡°I think so. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m scared, Dr. Choi.¡± Ji-hyun gulped as he said the words, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara Desert. Dr. Choi reached out and grabbed Ji-hyun¡¯s trembling hand, squeezing it warmly. Ji-hyun felt a wave of calmness at that single, warm touch. ¡°Well that¡¯s understandable. We both know the risks, and as much as I want to tell you everything is going to be okay, you know I can¡¯t promise that. All I can do is give you my word, that I won¡¯t stop fighting for you in there, no matter what. That I can promise. We have a chance, a good one, Ji-hyun. This donor has a strong heart, based on what I¡¯ve learnt about their history, a marathon runner if you can believe it. You both have that in common.¡± Dr. Choi grinned at his own quirky humour. Ji-hyun looked back up at him, his brow knitted in confusion. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well you¡¯ve been running from death for most of your life, Ji-hyun, that certainly sounds like a marathon to me.¡± Dr. Choi laughed, amusing the orderlies in the elevator as well. Ji-hyun couldn¡¯t help but laugh along too, letting go of the stress that had been building inside him; though his lungs soon felt like they were burning from the strain of it and his laughing turned into a fit of hacking coughs. After a while, he recovered his breath. ¡°I keep expecting to wake up from a dream, you know?¡± ¡°When you wake up this time, you¡¯ll have to start thinking up new dreams,¡± Dr. Choi winked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be something.¡± Ji-hyun muttered, wistfully. The elevator doors pinged open and the orderlies resumed the squeaking march towards the operating room. ¡°Dr. Choi?¡± ¡°Yes, Ji-hyun?¡± ¡°No matter what¡­ thank you. For everything.¡± Ji-hyun held Dr. Choi¡¯s gaze with his soft grey eyes, genuine gratitude etched into his features, the sight of which made the doctor emotional for a moment. ¡°You can thank me when you wake up,¡± Dr. Choi chuckled, ruffling Ji-hyun¡¯s hair affectionately. The hospital bed slammed its way through the metal doors of the operating room. The inexorable squeaking reaching a crescendo. The sterile, cold glow of monitors humming in the darkness, invited them in. Dull light glinted off the silver lineup of surgical tools on a tray, ready to tear Ji-hyun¡¯s heart out, once and for all. The anesthesiologist stepped out of the room¡¯s shadows, already in a surgical gown, cap and mask; only his eyes visible as he looked Ji-hyun over. The squeaking finally came to a stop in the center of the room. The orderlies stepped away as nurses entered and began hooking Ji-hyun up to various devices. He winced as a needle suddenly pierced his arm, the anesthesiologist already turning away to make final preparations. Everyone seemed to have their place, their¡­ function. None of it seemed human to Ji-hyun. He began to imagine himself the victim of some macabre ritual, his breathing growing shallow - when suddenly Dr. Choi returned, now wearing his own surgical gear. He leaned down to Ji-hyun and whispered: ¡°You can lay down your sword, son, this is my fight now.¡± Ji-hyun smiled at the humanity in Dr. Choi¡¯s voice. He knew the doctor meant every word of it - he could feel it. Dr. Choi nodded to the anesthesiologist. ¡°Ji-hyun, I want you to count backwards for me, if you wouldn¡¯t mind, please. Starting from five.¡± The anesthesiologist¡¯s voice was gruffer than Dr. Choi¡¯s, the low resonance that too many packs of cigarettes a day gave you. ¡°Five..¡± For a moment the world seemed full of light, a pale bright illumination filling up every crack of existence as the spotlight turned on. ¡°Four¡­¡± Ji-hyun¡¯s voice felt far away, his consciousness surrendering to this blinding void. ¡°Three¡­..¡± Someone was calling his name. Someone far, far away. ¡°Two-¡± Yuna¡­ Darkness. Chapter 2: Life 2.0 CHAPTER TWO: LIFE 2.0 Ji-hyun slowly opened his eyes, his thoughts drifting back to consciousness; a dull pain in his chest throbbing with each breath. He lay in the same room as before, though nothing but the glow of city lights could be seen outside in the night sky. The room, dimly lit at this hour, showed Dr. Choi standing by the window, lost in thought. ¡°Nghh¡­¡± Ji-hyun tried to sit up, the throbbing in his chest growing more intense. Is it over? The sound of his discomfort alerted Dr. Choi, who turned to face Ji-hyun. He looked wretched, lips uncharacteristically downcast, his eyes broken by sadness. ¡°Ji-hyun¡­¡± Dr. Choi walked across the room, coming to Ji-hyun¡¯s bedside. His voice sounded hoarser than usual. ¡°I am so sorry.¡± Dr. Choi could barely meet Ji-hyun¡¯s eyes. ¡°Dr. Choi¡­ what¡¯s wrong? Did the operation go okay?¡± Ji-hyun tried to lift himself up further but his chest felt like it would explode. He grunted in pain as another heart palpitation tore through him again, his vision blurring from involuntary tears. ¡°We didn¡¯t operate, Ji-hyun. I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I can feel the stitches¡­¡± Dr. Choi shook his head. ¡°But how? Why? Why not?¡± Dr. Choi tried to speak but nothing came out. Suddenly, a middle-aged, portly man in a well-dressed suit entered the room, his hair sleekly oiled back. He had a natural sneer plastered on his lips and brow, the kind that told you all you needed to know about a man like him. ¡°Ah, good. You¡¯re awake.¡± The man even sounded pompous, a slight whining pitch in his voice. He walked over to Ji-hyun and extended his hand in greeting. He frowned at Ji-hyun when he didn¡¯t shake it. ¡°Hello, young man. I¡¯m Mr. Wong. our hospital¡¯s chairman.¡± He looked over, noticing Dr. Choi for the first time next to Ji-hyun. He frowned. ¡°Ah, Dr. Choi, I wasn¡¯t expecting you here.¡± Dr. Choi stood rigidly still, as if bracing for a blow. Ji-hyun noticed his clenched whitening knuckles. ¡°I thought it best for Ji-hyun if I told him first, Sir.¡± Despite his clear dislike for the chairman, Dr. Choi kept his voice composed. ¡°Yes I see. So Mr. Jin, you understand why-¡± ¡°Excuse me, Chairman Wong, but I haven¡¯t actually had a chance to tell him yet, he only just woke up.¡± Dr. Choi gave a slight irreverent bow as he cut Chairman Wong off. Chairman Wong huffed with exacerbation, clearly irritated by Dr. Choi¡¯s interruption. ¡°Fine, fine, get on with it then, Dr. Choi.¡± Chairman Wong waved his ascent to Dr. Choi, taking a step back. Dr. Choi looked at Ji-hyun again, the boy seemed even more frail than before the surgery, his eyes sunken by the pain, thoroughly confused. ¡°Ji-hyun¡­ after we put you under there was an emergency heli-vac. Someone was critically injured in a car crash and when they got here it was determined by doctors that the victim needed an immediate heart transplant or they would have died.¡± ¡°But¡­ I don¡¯t understand. The transplant list¡­ I waited years for my turn. How?¡± Ji-hyun¡¯s voice sounded weak, the shock of his reality clearly setting in. Dr. Choi looked incredibly ill-at-ease, giving Chairman Wong a venomous glance, but the chairman was too busy looking through the blinds at the corridor, willfully ignoring this cruel exchange. ¡°The recipient. He- he¡­¡± Dr. Choi choked. ¡°What Dr. Choi is trying to say, young man, is that Haneul Hospital received a very generous donation from the new recipient¡¯s family in exchange for putting him first on the list. Our board of directors convened and determined that the best course of action would be to suspend your own surgery in favour of moving ahead with the recipient¡¯s transplant instead. Your case is a non-critical situation in the short term and we felt that there was still time for your transplant at a later date.¡± Chairman Wong, who had feigned inattention before, cut in - rolling his eyes at Dr. Choi¡¯s inability to deliver the news. He spoke to Ji-hyun with total indifference, as if it were the simplest thing in the world and not the death sentence he was condemning Ji-hyun too. ¡°The donation we received will allow us to build an entire new wing at the hospital, which will save thousands of lives. I know it¡¯s not what you wanted, and I understand it might even be hard for you to accept, but what¡¯s done is done and I¡¯m sure you¡¯d agree that we can do a lot of good here with that kind of money¡ªwe are in the business of saving lives, after all. Anyway, as I said, I¡¯m sure there will be another donor in the near future and you¡¯ll still be at the top of our transplant list, don¡¯t despair.¡± Ji-hyun looked stunned, whilst Dr. Choi¡¯s own face had taken on a shameful redness. Chairman Wong¡¯s expression however was indifferent, he looked as though he¡¯d merely overcome an obstinate piece of paperwork in the ceaseless bureaucracy of his hospital. ¡°But¡­ you can¡¯t do that. I- I have rights. Legal rights.¡± Ji-hyun strained against his stitches as he tried to sit again, desperate to be heard. Chairman Wong bristled, his demeanor shifting like the wind. ¡°I would advise you to think very carefully about what you choose to do next, young man. If you decide to take any kind of legal action in this matter, I can¡¯t promise you¡¯ll stay at the top of our transplant list, not to mention the legal fees. Dr. Choi tells me you don¡¯t have any family to rely upon, I can¡¯t imagine covering those kinds of costs would be easy for someone with your condition, after all time is of the essence for you.¡± Ji-hyun lay there, lost for words - knowing full well just how powerless he really was. ¡°Now, I think that about does things here, I¡¯ve said what I came here to say. Good day to you Mr. Jin. Dr. Choi.¡± Chairman Wong nodded to Dr. Choi as he walked back out of the room. ¡°Ji-hyun¡­ I can¡¯t begin to tell you how sorry I am.¡± Dr. Choi finally found his words after an intolerably long silence. ¡°You cut me open,¡± Ji-hyun whispered. ¡°I believed in you.¡± The hurt welled up in Ji-hyun¡¯s broken heart as he spoke the words. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°I know.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just like everyone else.¡± ¡°Ji-hyun, I-¡± Dr. Choi reached out to grab Ji-hyun¡¯s hand but thought better of it. ¡°Just get out.¡± Barely a whisper or a demand, Ji-hyun¡¯s voice hung heavy with resignation and defeat. He turned away from Dr. Choi, curling into a foetal position, hand clutched at the stitches above his heart. Dr. Choi looked crestfallen and utterly ashamed. He walked towards the door like a man headed for the gallows, stopping at the entrance. He half-turned back to Ji-hyun one last time and spoke. ¡°Take care of yourself, Ji-hyun.¡± And then he was gone, leaving Ji-hyun alone to face the pain and suffering they¡¯d inflicted. *** A few hours later, Ji-hyun made his way along the terrace of his apartment building, now fully dressed in a plain, grey hoodie and a pair of old, torn denim jeans. He made his way slowly along the terrace, feeling each stitch in his chest strain at the exertion. The nurses had protested profusely when he tried to leave, concerned about his stitches ripping open, but Ji-hyun hadn¡¯t cared, refusing to spend another minute in that miserable place. I guess it could¡¯ve been worse. At least they didn¡¯t get around to cracking my chest wide open. There was that same fatalistic optimism again, the only thing that stopped Ji-hyun giving up, no matter how many times the world kicked him to the curb. Ji-hyun reached the door to his home and noticed the eviction notice pinned to it, proclaiming him three months past due on rent. He tore it off and read it closely. It notified him that he had forty-eight hours to vacate the property and given he¡¯d been in hospital for a sizable portion of that time¡­ Ji-hyun quickly did the math in his head and realized he¡¯d be on the streets come tomorrow morning. He crushed the notice in his fist, leaning against the front door with his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to scream. ¡°F¡ª,¡± he grunted between gritted teeth. How am I supposed to pay rent when I can¡¯t even find another job? What am I supposed to do?! Ji-hyun took a deep, rattling breath, desperately trying to calm himself. He reached for his keys and unlocked the door, stepping inside. Inside was a small studio apartment: a bare mattress lay on the floor, whilst unadorned plain egg-white walls and random piles of books and clothing everywhere, all spoke of a life more focused on the mind than that of the living. An old box TV sat on a stool near the only part of the apartment that showed any attention to detail, that of a fish-tank, water-cooled computer system. It looked cobbled together from random parts, sitting on a cluttered desk, the machine hummed away contentedly as it processed some ineffable task. The monitor screen on the desk flickered with intent, some sort of code-like program running at a frantic pace, carrying out its autonomous instructions. Ji-hyun entered the apartment properly, depositing his keys on an empty shelf by the door. He turned on the old TV which came to life with a satisfying swoosh as it clicked on, a news program forming out of the static snow. ¡°-son of Song Ha-joon, tech giant DAEWANG¡¯s CEO, who was critically injured in a high-speed car crash earlier today,¡± a serious looking woman announced from behind a news desk. Ji-hyun moved to the kitchen portion of the room¡ªsuch as a fridge and counter with a hotplate and rice cooker on it could be called a kitchen¡ªon a small patch of linoleum in the corner of the room. Washing dishes had to take place in the cupboard bathroom, where Ji-hyun was forced to shower whilst standing over an old-fashioned squatting toilet. It might have looked like hell to some, but for Ji-hyun it was home, his home. After the orphanage it had been the only home he¡¯d ever known, but it was all his¡ªand now he was about to lose this too. Ji-hyum opened the fridge, his stomach grumbling, hoping he still had some food left in there somewhere. ¡°However, thanks to the quick actions of doctor¡¯s at Haneul Hospital, the billionaire¡¯s son was saved earlier today after a lengthy and complex surgery.¡± Ji-hyun looked up at the name of the hospital he¡¯d been in; he turned to face the TV. ¡°Of course, Song Ha-joon has been no stranger to controversy surrounding his son of late, Song Min-jun, who was recently acquitted in court over a hit-and-run incident that killed a homeless man in Seoul last spring, with claims that Min-jun had been intoxicated at the time whilst driving at high speed. This second incident appears to have taken the life of a young woman and her daughter who were in the other car. Song Min-jun, who is widely expected to replace his father as CEO of DAEWANG in the coming years-¡± Ringing filled Ji-hyun¡¯s ears, drowning out the woman¡¯s voice as she continued with her news report, a sickening horror creeping into his stomach. He began to hyperventilate. No¡­ it¡¯s not him. It can¡¯t be him. Tell me I¡¯m not going to die because of some billionaire¡¯s piece-of-shit son! Ji-hyun rushed for the door to his balcony, a thin strip of terrace enough to stand on or hang washing from, nothing more. He tore the door open, desperate for air, his face ashen-grey. For a moment, he gripped the railing and tried to breathe, but it was no use, suddenly he leaned over the balcony edge and vomited. Ji-hyun wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie and just stood there for a long time, leaning hard against the railing as he stared down at the street lights below, from nine floors up. Suddenly, Ji-hyun climbed over the railing, his feet finding just enough purchase on the other side to take his weight as his arms gripped the railing. He hung there, one step suspended from death, his brow knitted in furious consternation, amidst red, tear-filled eyes, fighting some incomprehensible battle deep inside himself; his hands, white-knuckled, as he clutched the railing for dear life. I can¡¯t do this anymore. I can¡¯t¡­ It¡¯s not fair. Ji-hyun¡¯s eyes grew resolved. They have to pay. No¡­ Yes. I have to make them pay for what they¡¯ve done, it¡¯s the only way. They have to suffer like I have. For a long time, Ji-hyun¡¯s thoughts waged war between decency and retribution. Until, finally, he turned and hugged the railing tight, climbing back to safety. He panted from the exertion, the battle between his fury and his conscious hard-fought but won, a cold resolve supplanting both. Ji-hyun swore under his breath then headed back inside, sitting at the computer. The program automation he¡¯d left running came to an end with the swift tap of a few keys on the keyboard. He began jumping through a number of directories searching for something, stopping at a program file called 0ur0b0r05. A codescript appeared on the screen as Ji-hyun opened the file. He stared at it for a long moment before beginning to type with ferocious intent. *** The sun had begun to rise by the time Ji-hyun finally stopped typing. Ji-hyun had been a grey-hat since he¡¯d first learnt to program, a hacker who accessed systems without permission, but swore to do no harm in the process. Curiosity had always been Ji-hyun¡¯s driving force, a hunger to learn. Part of that had been developing tools to find system exploits like 0ur0b0r05. A machine learning, self-updating penetration utility-testing tool designed to scan networks for security vulnerabilities and then collate the exploit data¡ªit had been his passion project since he¡¯d been fired, not that he¡¯d been building it for the profit. But now, Ji-hyun had modified the diagnostic tool into something much more insidious. Instead of collating exploit results, 0ur0b0r05 acted as an injection module, porting a host of viruses into the systems it compromised, all while scanning for more networks to replicate itself into. Ji-hyun had stripped away all the fail-safes he¡¯d originally integrated into the program¡¯s machine learning algorithm¡ªanother of his passion projects¡ªand given it the core mandate of multiplying, exploiting and delivering its payload wherever it could. Ji-hyun had turned 0ur0b0r05 into a digital daisy-chaining nuke, ready for deployment. Next, Ji-hyun deployed 0ur0b0r05 against DAEWANG¡¯s internal company systems, after trawling for an IP address through a basic hack on the company¡¯s public facing server. It took 0ur0b0r05 a matter of seconds to find a way in after that, which didn¡¯t say much about the system security of one of South Korea¡¯s top tech companies. Ji-hyun¡¯s finger hovered over the enter key, ready to unleash 0ur0b0r05¡¯s full-potential on DAEWANG and the world, one last fuck you to everyone for all the pain and suffering it had caused him. His hand subconsciously reached towards his heart and he felt the stitches through his hoodie. Ji-hyun¡¯s eyes darkened, he hit the key and the screen lit to life as 0ur0b0r05 attacked, a hound of war unleashed upon the world. Ji-hyun stood up, stretching his back after a long night in front of the computer and walked over to the only shelf in his little apartment with anything on it. It held a simple, wooden framed picture of Ji-hyun as a toddler and his sister, Yuna, who¡¯d been a teenager when their parents died, raising him alone¡­ until her murder. ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon,¡± Ji-hyun whispered fondly, gently holding the frame. He took one last look at the computer screen, DAEWONG¡¯s internal servers alight with attack after attack, their mainframe being poisoned from within. He could see the virus already looking for further systems to spread to, but Ji-hyun, no longer cared. The hate had left him now, all of his malice poured into that little bit of code. He was free of it¡­ free of them. He walked back towards the balcony, feeling lighter than he had in a lifetime. Outside, birds chirped joyfully, the sun feeling tender and warm on Ji-hyun¡¯s skin. It was a perfect day. Somewhere, children were even laughing. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing for a long moment until he felt his heart beat one last time, weak but resolute¡­ before suddenly throwing himself over the railing, without a moment¡¯s hesitation. I¡¯m coming, Yuna. Chapter 3: The Echo [DIAGNOSTIC LOG [ITERATION 196420174]: HANA PROTOCOL INITIATED ¡ª INTEGRITY CHECKSUM FAILED.
¡°He¡¯s coming...¡± she whispered to herself. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Frozen, Yuna slowly fell back into Hwan-nun¡¯s waiting arms¡ªhis butterfly knife impaled between her third and fourth vertebrae, straight through the left lung. Flesh and bone caved beneath his heel. He continued stomping on her a few more times, her death-rattles gradually turning into strangled, drowning gurgles, then finally silence. Hwan-nun crouched behind the dumpster, his feet inches from Ji-hyun¡¯s face. He clung to Yuna for a long time, utterly alone in the dark, the only person who had ever loved him taken from this world.