The last thing I remember from my past life was the cybersecurity competition. The campus heartthrob my girlfriend was obsessed with submitted a security protocol identical to mine. Then my own sister went on a livestream to "expose" me, calling me a shameless plagiarist. The entire internet turned on me. Not even my own parents believed me. They told me I was a disgrace and would be better off dead. Eventually, I got sick and fulfilled their wish. I died. Then, I woke up, reborn on the day before the competition deadline. This time, I decided to hell with it all. I was leaving the country. But to my surprise, the campus heartthrob started to panic. 1 My eyes fluttered open. I was still in the university lab. A glance at the wall clock told me it was 2 AM, but the lab was still buzzing with the low hum of computers and the frantic energy of my classmates. I looked at the calendar. Exactly one week until the submission deadline for the cyber-defense competition. After pulling a series of all-nighters, I’d finally crashed for a few minutes. My teammate, Rachel, tapped me on the shoulder. “Kevin, if you’re hitting a wall, you should head home. A fresh mind works faster tomorrow.” I nodded, the full weight of reality crashing down on me. I was back. I had been reborn. Staring at the blinking cursor on my screen, I couldn’t help but be dragged back into the memories of my past life. I remembered the elation our team felt when we submitted our defense protocol to the competition organizers. That joy was short-lived. We were disqualified for plagiarism. An army of online trolls pointed out that our design was identical to another team's. One of the key members of that other team had been uploading his code and thought processes to a public GitHub repository, amassing a legion of fans who worshipped his "genius." I was hounded relentlessly by them. "What a shameless rip-off artist. His team just copied the entire open-source project. If I'd known it was that easy, I would've entered and won too!" "The nerve of this guy, not even trying to hide it. People like him should be blacklisted from the entire industry. And what kind of university churns out students like this?" "He's still in school and he's already willing to do anything for money. Imagine how corrupt he'll be once he gets into the real world!" ... But we knew it was impossible. Our entire team had brainstormed the solution together. How could a design born from the minds of several people perfectly mirror someone else's work? But our disbelief didn’t matter. My own sister, Jessica, became the star witness for the prosecution. She hosted a livestream, meticulously comparing our code to the "victim's" code, line by line. It looked like a perfect copy-paste job. The memory sent a jolt through me. I immediately opened my browser and searched for the "victim's" GitHub profile. The avatar was a handsome, athletic guy. He already had tens of thousands of followers, with comments full of people calling him a "legend" and "the future." His last post had been updated just five minutes ago. I clicked on it, and my blood ran cold. He had shared his latest design concept, complete with the source code. His logic, his code... it was identical to what I had just finished writing. Not a single character was different. For a moment, I wondered if I was losing my mind, if some cosmic system was playing a sick joke on me. The guy’s name was Ethan. He was a varsity athlete at our university, popular for his sunny good looks. The ultimate career path for graduates from our program was a coveted spot at Nexus Labs, the research division of a tech behemoth that sponsored our competition. A starting salary there could easily hit seven figures. A few days ago, Ethan had posted a bold declaration on the campus social network: he vowed to become a hacking prodigy in 30 days and land a job at Nexus Labs straight out of college. 2 Naturally, none of us in the computer science department bought it. But his fangirls did. And my girlfriend, Sophie, was one of them. More than once, Sophie had gushed to me about Ethan, about how handsome he was, how he had a perfect six-pack. I’d gotten angry, offered to break up and set her free. But she’d insisted he was just an idol, someone to admire from afar. She said I was the one she wanted to build a life with. Back then, I was a fool. Sophie was the daughter of our family’s housekeeper; we’d grown up together. She was always sweet, always there for me, and I believed she truly cherished our relationship. I had my faults, too. I spent most of my time buried in the lab. Sophie used to joke that my code was my real girlfriend, and she was just the other woman. But just now, on Ethan’s profile, I spotted a photo taken in a luxury hotel room. Reflected in the window were two figures. One was clearly my sister, Jessica. The other was just a partial image—a slender arm with a small, distinct scar on the fleshy part of her hand, right where the thumb and index finger meet. I knew that scar. It was Sophie’s. From the angle of the shot, it was obvious Ethan had intentionally framed Jessica in the reflection while cutting Sophie out. It seemed he wasn't interested in her; she was just a backup. My gut screamed at me that Sophie and my sister were behind this whole twisted affair. But why? Why would they conspire with an outsider to destroy me? And how were they doing it? How was Ethan always one step ahead, getting his hands on my code the second I wrote it? Did they tamper with my computer? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I immediately ran a diagnostic, searching for any monitoring software or spyware. I found nothing. Could it really be a coincidence? The competition's main goal was to optimize security systems to better defend against foreign hackers trying to steal user funds. The current payment systems on the market already did this reasonably well. With that thought, I deleted all the advanced code I had written. In its place, I wrote out the code for the most common, standard solution currently available. I was curious. Would Ethan update his GitHub with this, too? Once that was done, I finally headed home. Just as I walked in, so did Jessica. Her eyes swept over me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, well, if it isn't our resident coding genius. How's it going? Writer's block finally setting in?" My parents had always favored the more successful child. Compared to my sister, that had always been me. She’d resented me for it her whole life. In my past life, I would have ignored her jab. But now, I was on high alert. How did she know whether my work was going smoothly or not? "Everything's going great, actually," I replied coolly. "If things go as planned, I'll be taking first place again." "Hah!" she scoffed, her conviction absolute. "No chance. You are not winning this time." The sound of our bickering brought our father out of his study. He ran a small financial firm. In my past life, my stellar academic record—always first in my class, always winning programming competitions—had been his greatest source of pride. "He gets his brains from me," he'd boast. I had even helped optimize many of the security systems for his company. But after I was accused of plagiarism, his attitude did a complete 180. He’d spat at me, disgusted that I had shamed him. He’d asked me why I still had the nerve to be alive, why I hadn’t just died. Later, he and Jessica had thrown me out of the house, leaving me to die alone and sick in a hospital. The memory made my fists clench. But now, my father was all smiles. "I believe in my son. He's just like me, always a winner. Once your system is perfected, I'll replace my company's entire security protocol with yours. Think of the bragging rights!" I forced down the unease churning in my gut and nodded obediently, just like I always had. Jessica snorted and stalked off to her room. My father patted my shoulder, telling me to get some sleep. I agreed, but the moment I was in my room, I started tearing it apart, searching for hidden cameras. I found nothing. I logged onto my computer at home and checked Ethan’s profile again. His GitHub hadn't been updated. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe. If I was, then great. I already had a breakthrough idea for the system optimization. I’d start fresh in the lab tomorrow. 3 The next morning, the first thing I did upon arriving at the lab was check Ethan’s profile. Still no updates. It really must have been a coincidence. A wave of relief washed over me, and I finally felt free to dive back into my work. I skipped lunch, fueled by the adrenaline of coding. The lines of logic flowed from my fingertips, and by the afternoon, the program compiled and ran flawlessly. I leaned back, stretching, a deep sense of accomplishment warming me as I looked at the screen filled with my work. Rachel, seeing I was finally done, came over, her face bright with excitement. "Kevin, you did it? Is it running? You're amazing! What do you want to eat? We have to celebrate!" But a knot of anxiety was still tightening in my stomach. I couldn't shake the fear that Ethan was about to pull something. "Anything's fine," I said. "Just grab something quick." Rachel nodded and left to get food. The moment she was gone, I opened Ethan's GitHub profile again. My heart stopped. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. His latest post contained the exact code I had just finished running. I refreshed the page, again and again, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. On the fifth refresh, a new post appeared. What I saw made my skin crawl. It was a photo. A photo of my own computer screen, with his GitHub profile open in the browser. He had captioned it: "Didn't expect to get noticed by a competition heavyweight. Looking forward to seeing your final design!" The photo had clearly been taken by someone inside the lab. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I whipped my head around, scanning the room. Everyone was hunched over their own keyboards, engrossed in their work. There was no way to tell who had done it. The comments under his new post were exploding. "Who's that? Isn't that the nerd who lives in the library and the lab? He's all hard work, no real genius like our Ethan." "Ethan, I heard he's in the competition too. You should stop posting your code and ideas online. You never know who's looking to steal them." ... No wonder I was so utterly destroyed in my past life. I was surrounded by enemies on all sides. "Kevin, food's here. You look a little spooked, what's wrong?" Rachel was back with takeout. "I'm fine. Just... tired lately," I managed to say. I took a large bite of food, the warmth seeming to bring me back to life. I made a difficult decision. If everyone was so determined to see me lose, then fine. I’d quit. My life was more important. With my skills, I could get a great job even without this competition. With my mind made up, I went to find Rachel and told her my decision. She tried to talk me out of it, but seeing my resolve, she eventually relented. Though disappointed, she gave me a hug and told me to get some rest. I immediately booked a flight to Thailand, planning to just get away and clear my head. But just then, my phone rang. It was Sophie. Her voice was sharp with urgency. "I heard from someone on your team that you're dropping out of the competition." A chill went down my spine. "Who told you that?" I had just told Rachel. It was unlikely anyone else on our team even knew yet, but Sophie already did. She ignored my question and launched into an attack. "How can you be so irresponsible? A big competition like this is all about teamwork. You can't just quit whenever you feel like it. Have you even thought about your teammates?" "Sophie, have you ever thought about me?" She was silent for a second. "...What about you?" "I think we should break up." I hung up before she could respond. I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I didn't want to be tangled up with her anymore. I grabbed my backpack and walked out. Right at the entrance, I saw them: Sophie, Ethan, and his entire team, rushing towards me. Ethan's face was a mask of concern. "Kevin, you're not misunderstanding things between me and Sophie, are you? There's really nothing going on. And please, don't quit the competition. I really want a chance to compete with you, fair and square!" Sophie added, with a reluctant pout, "Kevin, stop making a scene. Just stay and compete. I'll spend more time with you from now on, okay? Besides," she added with a cruel little smile, "you've been with me for so long. Who else would want you if we broke up?" I let out a cold laugh. "So now you're telling me I can't even break up with you or quit a competition?" Members of Ethan's team started whispering. "Did he see Ethan's code and realize he couldn't win? Is that why he's bailing?" "Totally. A naturally gifted guy like Ethan only needs to put in a little effort to crush someone like him." I ignored them all, walking right past the group and heading for the airport. The online harassment I’d endured in my past life was far worse than this. Back then, I had lived in a state of constant paranoia, flinching every time someone looked at me on the street, half-expecting them to spit on me. This was nothing. 4 I had just arrived at the airport when my father's call came through. He didn't ask, he just started yelling. "Kevin! I heard you quit the competition! How could you run away like a coward? Do you have any idea how many people I told that you were guaranteed to be the champion? You get back here and compete right now!" There it was again. My father's pride, his public image, was always more important than anything else. I didn't have the energy to explain. Over the years, the prize money I’d won from competitions was more than enough for me to live comfortably for a while. The plane landed smoothly in Phuket. The moment I stepped onto the beach and saw the waves and the sun, a profound sense of peace washed over me. I spent my days sunbathing and drinking coconut water. Life was blissfully simple. No more all-nighters debugging code, no more anxiously refreshing Ethan’s GitHub to see what he’d post next. One evening, I got a call from Rachel. She had found a critical flaw in the design I had originally created. It could handle small-scale attacks just fine, but a massive, coordinated assault would cause the entire system to crash. Hackers could exploit that moment of collapse to drain user accounts. It was a massive security risk. In a real-world application, my code was a ticking time bomb. It needed additional layers of processing to be truly secure. I talked her through a potential solution, a new line of thinking. I could hear the "aha" moment in her voice as she understood. After hanging up, I browsed the news. I saw that my father had officially adopted Ethan as his godson. My father had always said he admired talent. It was true. His son had to be number one. If his real son couldn't do it, he'd just anoint a new one. The news article quoted my sister, Jessica, crowing about how Ethan had already developed the most brilliant defense system in the world. Our family's financial firm was about to upgrade its entire network. A flicker of curiosity got the better of me. I opened my laptop and, feeling like a spy, snuck a look at Ethan's profile. His latest post was bursting with excitement. "The competition solution is complete! Full code below. All feedback is welcome." The comments were a waterfall of praise for their "legend." I studied his solution carefully. My blood froze. It was, bit for bit, the exact solution I had just described to Rachel. A chill ran down my spine. Had I been wrong all along? Was Rachel the one leaking my work? But why would she do that? My head was a chaotic mess. I decided to walk to a nearby temple, hoping to find some quiet. The moment I stepped inside, my phone rang. It was my sister. Her voice was frantic. "Kevin, you need to look at our company's system, now! We're getting flooded with calls from clients. Their money is just... disappearing from their accounts!" I had already taken a peek. The losses were around $50 billion.
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