Chapter 9: Eternal Heart

Towering bookshelves rose over a hundred meters high, stretching beyond the line of sight. Only in such a place could one truly grasp how endless knowledge could be.

Chen Mo approached the desk and opened a dark red book. Instantly, Shu Lao's figure materialized in the library.

Shu Lao gave Chen Mo a slight nod.

"Not bad. You've already finished reading a hundred books," he said. "Now you're eligible to extract one piece of technology. Would you like to extract it now?"

"Shu Lao, I have a question," Chen Mo said. "Is there any antivirus software here? Specifically, one that can handle ransomware?"

He could theoretically develop antivirus software himself, but it would take too long. With his energy and time, it was far more efficient to keep reading and exchange for mature technology instead.

"What kind of ransomware are we talking about?" Shu Lao asked.

"It's on my computers—both of them—back at my desk," Chen Mo replied.

Shu Lao closed his eyes, concentrating. Moments later, he lifted a finger. A massive light screen appeared above the library, displaying the lock screen of the ransomware virus.

"This one?" Shu Lao asked.

"Yes, that's it."

"Dissecting this type of virus is simple—you can definitely handle it," Shu Lao said. "Now, I'll give you two options. One: you may freely choose an existing antivirus technology from the library. Two: I can give you the complete source code of this virus, and you can design the antivirus yourself. But, if you choose the second option, the cost is that your next technology draw will be randomized instead of freely chosen."

Chen Mo narrowed his eyes. "Shu Lao… are you testing me?"

"You could say that," Shu Lao replied. "As I said before, the Science Library isn't a place where you can just coast along. If it were, there wouldn't be so many books."

He gestured to the endless sea of shelves.

Chen Mo thought for a moment, then made his decision.

"I'll take the second option."

After reading nearly a hundred books on computer science and hacking techniques, Chen Mo felt confident. Given the virus's full source code, he believed he could build an effective antivirus program without too much delay.

The only risk? The next tech unlock would be random. If he received something completely useless or niche, he'd have to wait until the next opportunity. Luck would play a big part.

"Not bad," Shu Lao said approvingly.

He pointed to the light screen. Instantly, dense code filled the display. Then, the screen collapsed into a book that floated down into Shu Lao's hand. He gently placed it on Chen Mo's forehead.

In an instant, the complete structure of the ransomware was imprinted in Chen Mo's mind. Every part of the virus became crystal clear. Code. Logic. Infection vectors.

A whirlwind of ideas began forming in his head.

"When you've finished designing the antivirus," Shu Lao said meaningfully, "come back and claim your next tech. Who knows—you might get a pleasant surprise."

Chen Mo exited the Science Library and sat back at his desk. With the source code burned into his memory, the next steps were straightforward.

He already had an idea. Now it was time to test it.

He booted up his computer and started coding.

Meanwhile, news of the ransomware attack at Binhai University had exploded online. In today's information age, it didn't take long for word to spread nationwide.

And just like that, the horn of a cyberwar had sounded.

Reports soon confirmed that several major universities across China had also fallen victim to the ransomware. Forums and student chat groups filled with panic.

The virus was named "Eternal Heart", a mutated variant of the infamous "Eternal Blue" ransomware.

Just like its predecessor, it spread through malicious email attachments, phishing links, and downloads from infected websites.

But this version was far more aggressive.

Once opened, the virus would infect the computer's local network—then spread like wildfire across entire institutions. Its propagation speed was terrifying.

Previously, ransomware only encrypted files—videos, documents, entire drives. But Eternal Heart? It locked the entire system. Victims couldn't even access their desktops.

The main targets in China were still universities and corporations, spreading rapidly through internal networks.

In response, many campuses shut down their networks entirely, trying to stop the spread.

Still, the virus raged on, unstoppable.

Panic surged across the internet. Cybersecurity firms urged caution, warning users not to click unfamiliar links or open suspicious files.

The situation was quickly spiraling.

This new ransomware had patched vulnerabilities from the last attack and was spreading faster than anyone could react. In mere hours, it had become a nationwide cyber crisis.

Then, just like before, it escalated into a global catastrophe.

Every major news outlet carried the story:

"China Shuts Down Virtual Currency Trading—But What About the Virus?"

"Eternal Heart: The New Face of Digital Extortion—One Million Systems Infected!"

"Bitcoin Prices Surge Again Following the Eternal Heart Outbreak."

Across Europe, the damage was severe.

Stock markets, banks, government offices, universities, energy providers, subway systems—even grocery chains—had all been hit.

The European Stock Exchange halted trading. ATM machines in several countries stopped working. Hospitals across the UK found their medical systems paralyzed. Rescue teams and ambulances were grounded due to system lockouts.

In just one day, Eternal Heart had reached the Middle East, South America, Oceania, and Southeast Asia.

The ransomware crisis had gone truly global—and this variant was leagues worse than the last one.

Millions of computers were locked down worldwide. Reinstalling the operating system meant losing all data—a price many could not afford to pay.

With no real solutions available, desperation set in.

Some began paying the ransom using cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin, just to regain access to critical files. Others could only pray for a miracle.

Microsoft's stock took a 2% hit, wiping out nearly $11 billion in market value. The U.S. FBI launched a global investigation, trying to trace the source of the virus. They found clues pointing to elite hackers who had spent months preparing the attack—but the true culprits remained untraceable.

Cybersecurity firms flooded the internet with warnings, but no one had a working fix.

Five days passed.

Eternal Heart had infected over a million computers.

The first batch of infected systems was set to have their data permanently destroyed in just 48 hours. Without a cure, countless users faced total data loss.

With cryptocurrency redemptions blocked by Chinese regulators, domestic users couldn't even pay the ransom.

For many, all that remained was hope—hope that someone, somewhere, would stop this plague before it was too late.