Chapter 52 Retribution for Evil (Second Update—Seeking Recommendations)

"System, how much reputation would it cost to have all of Liu Zhuo's fake user accounts banned?" Zhang Chu, flush with cash and confidence, asked. He’d already spent 100,000 reputation points to exchange a Truth Sticker for Xu Fei, and he had no intention of letting another culprit off the hook.

"Banning such a broad swath of fake accounts will provoke plenty of backlash. Among the accounts he manages, some marketing profiles have over a million followers. It would cost 200,000 reputation points," the system replied.

Zhang Chu calculated carefully. He still had 930,000 reputation points left. Spending 200,000 for his own peace of mind seemed worthwhile—after all, his points kept growing. He decided, "Do it. Two hundred thousand it is."

A few seconds later, Zhang Chu’s reputation had dropped to 730,000 on the system panel. The system announced coldly, "All accounts have been banned, permanently."

"That fast?"

"Efficiency is everything."

Zhang Chu quickly exited the system and opened his phone to check Weibo. He searched for Liu Zhuo’s most popular marketing accounts, but nothing showed up—they were truly gone!

Then, on the trending list, he spotted something interesting: "Author admits to hiring ghostwriters and fake voters—come and see!"

Curious, he clicked in and was surprised to find that the post belonged to Xu Fei!

"The Truth Sticker really works—his reputation is completely ruined now," Zhang Chu mused with a hint of feeling. He’d thought Xu Fei was just petty, but who could have guessed "Holmes' Will" was stolen from an intern? That was even worse than ghostwriting.

Xu Fei, once invisible on Weibo, was now being mercilessly attacked by righteous netizens. The number of comments and reposts was staggering.

"I'm really curious if the blogger himself posted this. Only someone with a hole in their head would confess to all that."

"Damn it, I even voted for that story, only to find out he stole it!"

"My heart goes out to the intern. How could a scumbag like that steal someone else’s work!"

"Tsk tsk, stealing stories, buying votes, smearing rivals—the literary scene is a real mess."

"I'm more concerned about how the Holmes contest is going to handle this."

"Rot in hell, scum!"

Zhang Chu didn’t feel the slightest bit of sympathy. People like that didn’t deserve an ounce.

Yet at this moment, Warner Bros. hadn’t taken the story down. Instead, they left it pinned at the top, where the comments section was filled with unified condemnation. The readers who once loved "Holmes' Will" had fallen silent, appalled to learn their favorite work was stolen—such shameless behavior!

...

"Xu Fei is ruined now, and no one should know it was me behind it," Liu Zhuo thought, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. The chat screenshots Xu Fei posted on Weibo only showed his screen name; unless someone was familiar with him, no one could make the connection. There were so many people named Liu Zhuo in the world, the public would never find him.

As he refreshed the comments on Xu Fei’s Weibo, a message suddenly popped up: "Weibo account anomaly detected, please log in again."

The webpage instantly returned to the login screen. Liu Zhuo entered his username and password as usual, but was shocked to find the account no longer existed!

"What the hell? I was just using this account—how could it be gone?" Confused, Liu Zhuo was certain there had been no mistake; he’d used the account daily.

Before he could react, he heard a commotion from the office outside.

"I was just posting with the bot, and suddenly all my accounts disappeared!"

"Damn it, I’ve spent ages building this Weibo account up to 900,000 followers—how can it be gone just like that?"

"Wait, you’re talking about Weibo? All my thousands of Tieba accounts are gone too—what’s happening?"

"Let’s ask the boss. Even if accounts get banned, it shouldn’t be this thorough—I can’t even log into QQ."

"It must be a system error. There’s no way every single account got banned."

Liu Zhuo stepped out of his office and called for silence. "Everyone quiet down. I’ll call our tech consultant right away."

In this business, one needed technical skills, but most of the time they relied on outside help.

The noisy crowd finally fell silent, all eyes on Liu Zhuo, waiting for an explanation. If it was just a network issue, why couldn’t they log into any social media account even using mobile data?

...

"Liu, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but I can’t find the cause. There’s not a trace left. Maybe someone went into the Weibo, Tieba, and WeChat databases and wiped out all account info? You must have pissed off a real expert—hurry up and apologize."

In this line of work, accounts were everything, some with significant influence. Now, every single one had vanished without a trace. This was a disaster!

The company boss was going to have his hide for this.

Liu Zhuo shivered. He truly had no idea which hidden master he’d offended. "This is a calamity out of nowhere—who am I supposed to apologize to?"

...

Zhang Chu was finally in a good mood, eating an extra bowl at dinner—which left him uncomfortably full. He checked his bank account on his phone: the bonus and manuscript fees, several tens of thousands of yuan, had arrived. It was time to buy himself a faster laptop.

"Dad, how about we go to the computer mall? I want to buy a new laptop. The one I’m using now is that ancient hand-me-down from you—it can barely open a web page."

Zhang Bowen glanced at him. "It’s your money, buy whatever you want."

"Mom, why don’t you come and help me bargain?" Zhang Chu pleaded. He was hopeless at bargaining and always paid whatever price was asked.

Though he had some money now, he didn’t want to be extravagant. He just wanted a laptop that could handle some games and, more importantly, writing and watching videos.

A desktop was too inconvenient to carry around, and power outages were a hassle. In a few days, Zhang Chu would be heading back home to visit his grandmother for a while—he couldn’t take a desktop with him.

"What’s your budget?" Zhang Bowen wasn’t familiar with computers, but he figured it was safest to stick with reputable brands.

"Anything under ten thousand, but it has to be good quality."

Making money wasn’t hard for Zhang Chu anymore; he just wanted reliability. Since his rebirth, he’d spent less time on games and had few demands in that area.

After Chu Lan finished washing the dishes, she called out, "Let’s go! A walk after dinner is good for digestion!"