Hacker

After finishing his noodles and returning home, Han Yang found that the drone had already been remotely controlled by him and was sitting steadily on the ground.

Everything seemed perfect, but Han Yang was still somewhat dissatisfied.

"If only I could establish a direct connection with the drone."

With the current setup, the signal had to pass through the Brainwave Control Device, then the mobile signal network, then the home network equipment, then the robot, then the phone controller, and finally reach the drone. Every additional step increased the delay, along with the uncertainty and risk.

If he could connect his brain directly to the drone, or even just add the Brainwave Control Device as an intermediary, it would undoubtedly be far more convenient and stable than the current method.

Especially once his computing power grew and he needed to control more things, routing everything through so many layers would become far too troublesome.

But at this stage, Han Yang could not find a better alternative. Even improving the performance of the current Brainwave Control Device setup any further would come at a huge cost.

Han Yang suspected that the Ita possessed more advanced Brainwave Control Device technology, perhaps even technology capable of directly connecting the device with electronic equipment to perform all kinds of complex operations conveniently and efficiently. But clearly, they were unwilling to sell such advanced technological creations to humans.

They would only bring already obsolete, backward products into the human world, market them as high-tech goods, then sell them at exorbitant prices and harvest the human world's wealth.

Once I have enough computing power and research capability, I'll develop my own Brainwave Control Device.

Han Yang silently made up his mind.

After settling matters here, Han Yang controlled the robot to take power-leveling jobs while throwing himself into a new stage of study.

The deeper he delved into computer chip technology, the more knowledge he needed to learn. Although Han Yang could now manually create 200 kHz chips, the knowledge he had acquired was still merely the tip of the iceberg.

Who knew how much knowledge still awaited him ahead?

He could not stop learning for even a single day.

When night fell, Han Yang began keeping watch again, observing the area around the small courtyard.

That night also passed without incident. But at around two in the morning the following night, Han Yang finally spotted a furtive figure.

The darkness concealed the person's features, leaving only a vague impression of his build.

He was a short, skinny man.

He quietly approached from the east side of the courtyard, pretending to be merely passing by. After making sure no one was nearby, he doubled back and began inspecting the courtyard from all sides.

Han Yang hid behind the courtyard wall, sticking out only half his head as he watched him quietly.

After wandering around for a while, the man found several objects to stack against the wall as footholds. Han Yang immediately pulled back and hid in the small room opposite, continuing to observe.

Sure enough, a moment later, a head poked up from outside the courtyard wall and carefully surveyed the situation inside. Only after looking for a long while did it quietly withdraw.

Han Yang immediately got up and went to the doorway. Peering through the crack in the door, he saw the man quickly slipping away along the wall. Han Yang quietly opened the door, took his dagger, and followed after him.

Even with Shen the Butcher looking out for him, surviving peacefully for more than ten years in a chaotic place like the Vegetable Market District, finding steady work, saving enough money to rent a home, and securing a fixed place to live meant Han Yang was hardly a pushover.

It could even be said that in the Vegetable Market District, someone who had once lived as Han Yang did could already be considered rich.

Those even poorer survived on daily wages from odd jobs. At night, they could only sleep on the streets, and being able to build a shelter from cardboard boxes was considered decent living conditions.

If he had not been ruthless, if his hands had not been dirty, if he had not stabbed a few people, Han Yang would have long since become a corpse eaten by stray dogs.

Following someone through the night was a piece of cake for Han Yang now.

Han Yang trailed the dark, skinny man from a distance, remaining extremely cautious.

But when he passed a street corner, a figure suddenly entered his field of vision, startling him so badly that he almost instinctively raised his dagger.

After calming down slightly, he saw that it was only a homeless man sleeping in the corner.

Looking closer, he recognized him as the middle-aged man he had seen over the past few days—the one carrying a suitcase who, despite his bedraggled state, had always tried his best to maintain a dignified appearance.

At the moment, he was curled up in the corner, with his suitcase hidden behind him and a piece of cardboard propped in front of him as he slept.

"At least he knows to find a hidden spot and hide his suitcase. He's got some brains."

Han Yang ignored him and once again followed the dark, skinny man from afar, eventually watching with his own eyes as he entered the Black Three Gambling Den.

Han Yang had won his first pot of gold at the Black Three Gambling Den. He also knew that it was the hideout of a gang of thugs. Their boss was named Black Three, though people on the streets generally called him Brother Three.

Though this group had no official name like the major gangs—the Iron Wolf Gang, Knife Gang, Blood Gang, and the like—they were still a dominant force across several nearby blocks.

Black Three had more than a dozen core enforcers and over twenty peripheral underlings. They ran gambling dens and bars, collected protection money, and no one dared provoke them.

Damn it, Black Three has his eye on me... He's got a damn bloodhound's nose. I've already been careful enough. Could the money I won at the gambling den a few months ago have caused trouble? No, that's not it. It wasn't that time.

Several months had passed, and Black Three had never come looking for trouble over that money. It could not be because of that. It had to be because he had recently been receiving courier packages every day, large and small, never leaving home while still seeming to have money in hand. They had come to probe his background.

After thinking for a moment, Han Yang came up with a plan and quietly left.

By then, the night was already deep, but the Black Three Gambling Den was still packed with noise. Gamblers shouted and yelled, while the stench of smoke, alcohol, sweat, and filthy feet mingled together strongly enough to knock a person over.

In a small room behind the gambling den, Black Three—a dark-skinned man with a scar across his face—had his arms around two scantily dressed women as he casually played cards with several core enforcers.

The short, skinny man entered, greeted them with a flattering smile, and heard Black Three ask in a rough voice, "A Mao, did you get a clear look?"

"The curtains blocked the light, so I couldn't see inside, but it was definitely computers. No mistake."

"You sure he lives there alone?"

"Just him."

"Living alone, with so many computers, never leaving home, and still having so much money..."

Black Three pondered for a moment, then a smile slowly spread across his face. "Who would've thought this godforsaken poor hole of ours had a hidden dragon in it..."

"Brother Three, what exactly does that kid do?"

"A hacker. And a skilled one. No doubt about it."

Black Three's tone was utterly certain.