Chapter 8 The Mysterious Coder

Int a left the hall, his expression blank, and wandered to the cliffs overlooking Zhan District Village. He sat on a jagged outcrop, staring at the misty peaks of the Algorithm Mountains, the Code Continent's infamous wild pointer territory.

"Heh, strength…" he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping. "In this world, without strength, you're less than a null pointer. At least no one steps on those." His shoulders shook with suppressed rage, his self-mocking voice echoing across the cliff.

His fingers dug into his hair, blood from his cut palm smearing his dark locks. Nal an's words had sliced through him like a segmentation fault, each syllable a blow to his pride. The hall's events—her dismissive tone, the elders' sneers—burned in his chest.

"Today's shame… I'll never endure it again!" He opened his bloodied hand, his voice hoarse but resolute.

As he swore his oath, a raspy chuckle broke the silence. "Heh, young variable, sounds like you could use some help."

Int a's face tightened. He spun around, his sharp gaze scanning the empty cliff. Nothing.

"Don't bother looking. I'm in your finger's pointer," the voice teased.

His eyes locked onto the black ring on his right hand, its ancient patterns faintly glowing. "You're… talking?" Int a forced his voice to stay steady, masking the jolt of fear.

"Not bad, kid. You didn't jump off the cliff in fright," the voice mocked. "Nice composure for a young variable."

"Who are you? Why are you in my ring? What do you want?" Int a's questions came sharp and precise.

"Call me… an old coder for now. No harm intended, don't worry. I've been dormant for years, but your soul's strength woke me. Lucky me, heh. Oh, and thanks for the three years of binary energy—it kept me from fading completely."

"Binary energy?" Int a's face darkened, his voice chilling. "The internal force that's been vanishing from my core… that was you?"

"Heh, I had no choice, kid. Don't hold it against me."

"You—!" Int a's calm shattered. He tore the ring from his finger, his mother's keepsake, and hurled it into the misty abyss below, not caring for its sentimental weight.

The ring flew, and a pang of regret hit him instantly. He reached out, but it was gone, swallowed by the fog. "Idiot!" he cursed, smacking his forehead. "Too reckless!"

He sat, stunned, cursing his impulsiveness. Three years of humiliation, all because of this ring? No wonder he'd lost control.

Minutes passed. He sighed, standing to leave, when his eyes widened. Floating before him was the black ring, and above it, a translucent old man, his robes tattered but his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Heh, no need to get so worked up, kid. It's just three years of internal force," the old man said, grinning at int a's stunned face.

Int a's lips twitched. "You know what those three years cost me. The mockery, the shame—because of you!" he growled, his voice thick with suppressed fury.

The old man shrugged. "Sure, but those three years made you stronger, didn't they? Without them, would you have this grit, this focus? You're tougher than most your age."

Int a's anger wavered, his mind clearing. As the rage faded, a spark of realization hit. If the ring was the cause of his lost internal force, then his talent—his ability to condense a Core Binary Cyclone at twelve—was still there.

The thought sent a surge of relief through him. His body felt lighter, as if a long-dormant pointer had been reallocated. Even the old man seemed less infuriating.

"Fine," int a said, exhaling. "I don't know who you are, but tell me this: are you planning to keep draining my internal force? If so, find another host. I'm done feeding you."

"Heh, not many have a soul as strong as yours," the old man chuckled, stroking his beard. "Since I've shown myself, I won't touch your internal force again without your say-so."

Int a snorted, unconvinced. He'd already decided never to trust this old coder, no matter how clever his words.

"Kid, want to grow strong? Want respect?" the old man asked, his eyes glinting.

Int a's heart skipped, but he kept his tone cold. "Now that I know why my internal force was vanishing, I can rebuild with my talent. Why would I need you?"

"Your talent's good, but you're fifteen, stuck at ten points of internal force. Your village's coming-of-age ceremony is next year, right? Think you can hit fifty points in one year with hard work alone? And that bet with Nal an—she's no slouch. Catching up to her, surpassing her? Not so simple." The old man's face creased into a sly grin.

"You're the reason I'm in this mess!" Int a snapped, his fists clenching. "If you hadn't drained me, would I be humiliated like this? You old glitch!"

His outburst echoed, but the reality sank in. He slumped, his anger fading into frustration. Internal force cultivation required a strong foundation. Even with his talent restored, reaching fifty points in a year was near impossible.

He glanced at the smirking old man. "You've got a way, don't you?"

"Maybe," the old man said, his voice teasing.

"Help me reach fifty points in a year, and I'll forgive the three years you stole. Deal?" Int a's tone was cautious.

"Heh, sharp kid," the old man laughed. "If I'm no use to you, why keep a leech like me around? You're not wrong there."

Int a crossed his arms. "Show me some value, then. What's your offer?"

The old man's eyes gleamed with a hint of cunning. "Ever thought about becoming a Code Alchemist?"

(To be continued)