He's still banging his head against the wall.
Nana's mechanical eye swept across the security logs; the data stream crashed against the glass like a torrential downpour, impenetrable. The attack frequency hadn't decreased; instead, it had become more stable, as if a different person was knocking on the door—no longer attacking recklessly, but rhythmically tapping at the system's edges, probing every crack.
“The relay station in Mars orbit is still being contracted out.” Her tone was as flat as reading a recipe. “Two thousand three hundred times per second, disguised as port dispatch instructions, energy settlement statements, and even weather forecasts—it’s all different, but no two are the same.”
Chen Hao placed the half-cold energy bar on the counter, sticky residue clinging to his fingertips that he couldn't shake off. Too lazy to wipe it off, he simply said, "Looks like they really like our little stall and aren't going to leave."
“They’re trying to wear down the firewall.” Nana pulled up a heatmap, where a patch of crimson was concentrated at the seventh layer of the communication protocol. “Conventional defenses can hold out for a while, but if this continues, the system will automatically downgrade response permissions, and the bidding data may be tampered with.”
"In other words, if we keep holding on like this, all the buyers we've worked so hard to build up will think we've run away?"
"The logic holds true."
"That won't do." Chen Hao tilted his head and looked at her. "Didn't you say you had a cosmic-level lock? What was it called again?"
“Quantum key distribution protocol, qKd.” She paused, then added, “It uses a truly random sequence of numbers generated from the quantum states inside a meteorite crystal as the key seed, which is refreshed every millisecond. Theoretically, it is unpredictable and cannot be copied.”
"It sounds like a heavenly incantation from a cultivation novel." Chen Hao clicked his tongue. "How long does it take to activate?"
"A three-minute cold start, during which the system enters a semi-offline state and all external connections are suspended."
“Three minutes?” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s enough time for a pack of wolves to smell blood.”
“A contingency plan is ready.” Nana tapped her finger, and a preset notification template popped up: “An encrypted notification will be sent to all certified buyers before the switch, and a countdown animation will be inserted into the live stream interface.”
"Okay." Chen Hao sat up straighter and kicked his slippers to the correct position. "Just don't let them think we've blown it up."
Nana nodded and swiped her finger across the confirmation button.
The next second, the main screen suddenly went dark, and in its place appeared a slowly rotating blue cube with the clear number **03:00** on its surface.
The following text scrolls through small print: "The highest level of data protection upgrade is underway. Please wait patiently. Your bid has been locked in."
Almost simultaneously, Chen Hao pressed the voice channel.
“Friends,” he grinned, “that guy who tried to secretly change his transcript earlier had pretty good skills, but unfortunately the teachers were too strict. Now we’re going to put a bulletproof shield on the exam room. In three minutes, nobody can get in, and nobody can get out—including me.”
The comments section exploded instantly.
Is quantum encryption really possible?
Is this some kind of scam?
I'd be a fool to trust you.
Chen Hao remained calm and said, "I know you don't believe me. After all, even the signal towers on this desolate planet are made of scrap metal. Suddenly coming up with quantum technology is like the butcher at the village entrance pulling out a scalpel. But to tell you the truth—this thing really did grow out of the ground."
He pointed to the black crystals in the sealed box next to him.
"The radiation absorbed while planting wheat was transformed into this stuff. It can not only generate electricity, but also serve as a codebook. Isn't that amazing? But it's right here."
Nana said softly, "The countdown has one minute and fourteen seconds left, and the attack traffic is fluctuating."
On the screen, the previously dense red dots suddenly thinned out, as if someone had slammed on the brakes.
“They’re waiting,” Chen Hao said, squinting. “To see if we’ll prematurely end the process because we’re afraid of an awkward silence.”
“It could also be preparing a new attack pattern,” Nana added. “The probability of low-frequency, covert, and embedded attacks has risen to 82 percent.”
"Then let's give them a good show."
Before the words were even finished, the countdown reached zero.
The entire system shuddered slightly, as if an electric current was passing through its bones.
The main screen lit up again, no longer displaying a typical UI, but rather a deep blue background with countless tiny points of light floating on it, like a spontaneously flowing galaxy. Every data packet entering or leaving created a ripple before disappearing into an untraceable dimension.
“The quantum channel has been established,” Nana said. “All communication links are now physically encrypted, and access requests that are not authenticated by the local terminal will be discarded.”
"So, you mean even if the hacker himself sat across from us now, plugged in a USB drive, he'd still have to get past you first?"
"To be precise, the USB drive itself will be identified as an unknown biological threat and trigger an isolation protocol."
"Impressive." Chen Hao smirked. "So, now, can we grab the other person's underwear?"
"I suggest using a decoy protocol." Nana opened a window of code. "I can simulate a key leak, disguise it as a system vulnerability, and trick the other party into activating the hidden decryption module."
"Let them walk right into our trap?"
"Exactly."
"Let's do it." Chen Hao leaned back in his chair. "I've always believed that the best defense is to make the enemy think they've won."
Nana subtly moved her fingertips, and a fake log record was quietly injected into the outer cache area. The record showed that there was a brief delay during a key refresh, which appeared to be a synchronization failure.
For the next seventeen seconds, it was as quiet as if there had been a power outage.
Then, an extremely thin stream of data cut in from the direction of Mars, so slow that it was almost imperceptible, and its target was the fake log.
“Capture successful.” Nana’s voice remained unchanged, but the robotic arm trembled slightly. “The attacking end has responded to the decoy and is attempting to reverse engineer the key generation logic.”
Can you locate it?
“Removing the disguise layer.” She operated quickly. “The IP redirection path passed through six anonymous nodes, ultimately tracing back to—the Mars private technology consortium ‘Starlink Workshop’.”
"Never heard of it." Chen Hao scratched his head. "What do they do?"
"The main business is the control and technological blockade of resources on the edge of planets." Nana pulled up the database summary, "In the past three years, they have interfered in the transaction of water minerals on Titan and the auction of development rights for Saturn's ring orbit, mostly through online pressure or manipulation of public opinion."
"Oh." Chen Hao laughed, "A professional troublemaker."
"The conclusion is reasonable."
"So, are they trying to steal our mines this time? Or do they simply want to make things difficult for us?"
"Both are possible. But current behavior suggests that the core objective is not destruction, but rather the acquisition of technological pathways."
Just then, a new message notification popped up on the edge of the holographic screen.
It's not a regular communication format, but a private messaging channel that has undergone seven layers of encryption and verification. The source identifier is the official "Starlink Workshop" authentication code.
The content is only one sentence:
**"We are willing to replace competition with technological cooperation—please reply."**
Chen Hao stared at the line of text for three seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Oh, she's quite sensible."
Nana asked, "Should we disclose their identity? Or submit it to the Interstellar Cyber Security Bureau for filing?"
"That's no fun," he waved his hand. "They've already handed us the microphone, shouldn't we take it?"
He leaned closer to the screen, stared at the message twice, and then said, "Tell them we don't sell technology or form joint ventures. Want to cooperate? Fine, but only on an exclusive supply agreement."
"Additional terms?" Nana asked.
“Of course,” he grinned. “Let them line up to apply. First, they pay a deposit, then a lottery is held to decide who is eligible to negotiate the price.”
Nana didn't hesitate and immediately edited her reply.
Before sending it, she attached an extra video file: a black crystal embedded with a miniature thermoelectric device stabilizes the output current, illuminating a set of LED strips. The image ends with a close-up of the crystal, and a line of text slowly appears:
"Products from Huangxing, price is non-negotiable."
After the message was sent, the main screen returned to normal.
The bidding curve has started to climb again, with bids from several energy companies approaching 4,900 points per gram and still fluctuating slightly.
The security log is completely blue, with no abnormal impact records.
Chen Hao finally breathed a sigh of relief, put his feet back on the support, and casually picked up the energy bar that had been neglected for so long, taking a bite. The sticky texture was still there, but he didn't care.
Do you think they'll be so angry they'll smash their keyboards?
“The probability is low,” Nana said. “These types of organizations tend to calmly assess the losses and gains.”
"That's true." He chuckled. "After all, when it comes to money, face is just a rag to wipe the table."
As he was speaking, a light flash suddenly appeared in the corner of the main screen.
It's neither an alarm nor a new message.
This is a second reply from "Starlink Workshop".
Upon opening, only two words were displayed:
**"make a deal."**
This was followed by a draft electronic agreement, the terms of which were entirely based on their terms, and there was no negotiation on the amount of earnest money.
Chen Hao was stunned for a moment, then laughed even louder.
"Wow, these people really know how to seize the moment."
Nana looked at him: "Do you accept?"
"Leave it for now." He waved his hand. "Let them wait a couple of days. The more eager someone is to get in, the longer they should be made to wait at the door."
After he finished speaking, he stretched, his bones cracking.
The main control room was still dimly lit, with three screens operating silently. One screen displayed the bidding trend, another monitored the security log, and the third played a loop of the exhibition booth's visuals—purple wheat fields swaying in the wind, with black crystals dotting the landscape like stardust.
Chen Hao yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Finally, some peace and quiet."
Nana suddenly spoke up: "A new data flow has been detected."
He was startled: "Who?"
“Unknown source.” She pulled up the path map. “It’s not an attack, nor is it communication, but a compressed file, 8.7Gb in size, named ‘Resource Adaptation Model_V1’.”
"Sent from?"
Yes. The only note was: 'Perhaps you need this.'
Chen Hao frowned: "Which company is trying to ride this wave of popularity now?"
"Preliminary analysis shows that the file contains a new soil reconstruction algorithm suitable for highly radioactive abandoned planets." Nana paused for a second, "and it highly matches our crop growth parameters."
He was silent for a few seconds, then slowly sat up straight.
"Open it and take a look."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com