"Boss, that expression you had in court? Absolute meme material. I could make a whole sticker pack titled: 'Weak, Pitiful, and Helpless'."

  Grace’s holographic avatar sat on the clinic’s windowsill, swinging her legs and wearing a wicked grin. She held a virtual bucket of popcorn, while the screen replayed the "highlight" (or rather, the social death) moment of the trial—specifically, the shot where John’s jaw dropped as Bone (Law) unleashed his barrage of counterclaims.

  "I call that 'tactical compliance'!" John retorted while changing his mother's dressing. "If I acted too arrogant, the judge would’ve declared me guilty on the spot. It’s called 'Playing the Pig to Eat the Tiger'. Do you understand strategy?"

  "Come on, you were just scared stiff," Bone interjected. He was dismantling the suit from his frame, folding it carefully, smoothing out every wrinkle with his skeletal fingers. "But seriously, when that lawyer possessed me, I felt like someone overclocked my CPU. My jaw was moving faster than I could

  "Alright, enough chatter. Let's look at the loot."

  John wiped the ointment from his hands and picked up the heavy Yin-Yang iPad. The screen lit up, and a golden settlement notification instantly banished his embarrassment.

  [System Settlement Notification]

  Event: The 13th Street Collective Rights Case (Preliminary Hearing)

  Scope: Community-wide.

  Verdict: You not only defended individual legal rights but, more importantly, awakened and

  Merit Reward: +2000.

  "Two thousand!" John’s eyes went straight, like a man seeing an oasis in the desert. "That’s a fortune! We can pay the interest and even chip away at the principal!"

  "Don't pop the champagne yet," Grace threw a bucket of cold water on his excitement, pointing to the total deficit which was still terrifyingly red.

  [Current Debt: -500,000]

  [Minimum Monthly Payment (0.1% + Interest): 525 Merit (Unpaid)]

  [Time until Mandatory Enforcement (Mining Labor): 20 Hours.]

  "So that's how it works..." John looked at the "Minimum Payment" line and finally let out a breath. The Sword of Damocles hanging over his head lifted just an inch. "So, as long as I pay these 525 points every month, the Underworld won't send Black and White Impermanence to chain me up?"

  "Theoretically, yes," Grace nodded, pushing up her non-existent holographic glasses. "This is the legendary 'Installment Plan.' As long as you service the interest and the minimum principal, you can stay in debt forever. That’s the magic of modern finance (Underworld Edition). But Boss, don't relax too much. Compound interest is a monster."

  John didn't hesitate. He immediately tapped [Pay].

  DING!

  [Payment Successful. Current period minimum settled. Next bill generation: 30 Days.]

  [Current Available Balance: 1975 Merit.]

  Seeing the red warning bar finally disappear, John felt like he’d been cut down from a gallows. The principal was still massive, but for this month, he was a free man.

  "With this cash, we can stock up," John calculated, tapping away on the memo app. "Get Mom some better nutrient solutions, buy a titanium patella for Bone (he cracked his knee last time), and upgrade Grace’s server bandwidth so she stops lagging..."

  "Cough... John."

  Lying on the bed, Margaret coughed gently. Her voice was weak, but her eyes were clear. She looked at her son—pinching pennies, calculating every cent—with a mix of helplessness and heartache.

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  "Don't just think about me. You need new clothes. That hoodie is washed white, the cuffs are frayed... you look like a little old man. You’re only in your early twenties; you should be dressing up."

  "I'm fine, Mom." John tucked the blanket around her. "As long as you get better, I’ll wear a burlap sack for all I care. Besides, this is comfortable. Easy to work in."

  "This child..." Margaret sighed, reaching out with her recovering left hand to gently touch John’s cheek. "Mom knows you're filial, but don't punish yourself. When I’m better, I’ll knit you a sweater. Just like when you were small."

  John smiled, nuzzling his face into her palm. "Okay. I'll wait for your sweater."

  Margaret turned her gaze to the tortoise playing dead under the shrine, her eyes full of affection. "And Xuanwu too. Following us these past few days, he hasn't had a good meal, just gnawing on dry pellets. Bone, next time you buy meat, get him some dried fish. The deep-sea kind, it's nutritious."

  Xuanwu, who had his eyes closed pretending to cultivate some

  "You got it, Mom!" Bone folded the suit with the reverence of a saint handling a relic. The skeleton somehow managed to pull off a bowing, scraping posture of filial piety. "I'll hit the docks first thing tomorrow. I'll pick the freshest silver fish for Master Turtle!"

  "And Grace." Margaret looked at the holographic figure on the windowsill. "Even though you are... um... data, Auntie doesn't see you as an outsider. It’s cold in here, take care not to freeze (even though data doesn't freeze). Add some special effect clothes for yourself."

  Grace froze, then her eyes turned red (special effect). She nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Auntie! I'll take care of myself! I just wrote a [Warmth_Patch.exe] for myself. It’s super cozy!"

  Just as the family was enjoying this rare moment of warmth, a chaotic noise erupted outside the window.

  It wasn't the orderly march of a hit squad, nor the sneaky footsteps of thieves. It was messy, heavy, and accompanied by low sobbing. It sounded like a crowd surging toward the clinic.

  "Hm? Trouble again?" Bone stood up instantly, grabbing his driveshaft-axe. The soul fire in his sockets turned battle-red. "Who's blind enough to start something right after we won the lawsuit?"

  John walked to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain, frowning.

  But he didn't see gangsters or Guild cleaners.

  He saw parents.

  George, the hot dog vendor, still wearing his a

  They weren't holding weapons. They were tightly holding the hands of their children. The kids carried backpacks, looking lost. Some were wiping tears, their small hands gripping the adults' clothes for dear life.

  Their target was clear—John's clinic.

  "This is..." John was surprised. "Medical dispute? Doesn't look like it. No one brought tools."

  "Negative." Grace's voice came from the wristband, calm with data analysis. "Boss, look at what they're holding. Those aren't medical records. Those are... Notices."

  John looked closely. Every parent was clutching a piece of white paper. The papers fluttered in the wind, stamped with a glaring red official seal. They looked like death warrants.

  "Grace, scan that paper."

  "Scanning... Analysis complete."

  [Notice of Indefinite Closure for the 13th Street First Public Primary School]

  "Upon inspection, the school premises possess severe safety hazards (Dilapidated Structure) and the faculty quality is insufficient to meet the standards of the New Babylon [Elite Education Act].

  Decision: The school is to be closed indefinitely, effective immediately.

  Students will be diverted to the temporary teaching point in the 99th Street (next to the landfill), or parents are advised to contact private schools in the Upper Sector (High sponsorship fees required)."

  John’s heart sank like he’d been punched in the gut.

  He understood.

  This was the Guild's second move. The dark methods (forced demolition, cutting power, lawsuits) were blocked, so now they were using the "white" methods. And this move was more vicious than anything before.

  They used "Administrative Orders" and "Safety Hazards"—high-sounding excuses—to sever the future of the entire district.

  "They're digging up the roots..." Margaret couldn't read the words from that distance, but hearing the crying outside, she guessed what had happened. Her hand gripped the sheet tightly. "These people... their hearts are black. They're driving us to a dead end. Cutting off the children's path... they don't want us to ever turn our lives around."

  "Severing the lineage." Xuanwu suddenly spoke. His voice was low and raspy, carrying the ancient wisdom of a beast that had lived for millennia (even if he sounded like a leaking bellows). He crawled out slowly, looking out the window. "To destroy a people, first destroy their history. To enslave a species, first destroy their education. This tactic hasn't changed in thousands of years. If these kids become illiterate, in a few years, the 13th Street will truly become a pigsty for them to slaughter at will."

  John looked at the neighbors outside—faces full of despair, preparing to knock on his door. He saw the pleading in George’s eyes, the helplessness in Mrs. Zhang’s, and the panic in the children’s.

  He clenched his fist. His nails dug into his flesh, but the pain was nothing compared to the anger in his heart.

  "They want the children here to be coolies forever. To be cannon fodder. To be consumables/assets. They want us to kneel and beg for generations."

  "But I disagree."

  John turned around, looking at the table—shabby, but reinforced by Lu Ban, still bearing the scratches from Bone's meal yesterday.

  "Since they closed the school."

  John's eyes became firm. The cowardice and hesitation of the past were gone.

  "Then we'll open our own."

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