The early morning sun filtered through the haze of a sleeping city, casting long shadows on crumbling concrete and glass towers.
But within the SoulNet, there was no sleep. No time. Only evolution.
The blue interface glowed softly as a new function quietly appeared on every connected user's panel.
[ MagicNet Sign-In Function Activated]
Log in daily to receive SoulNet Currency (SNC).Reward Range: 1 to 5 SNCInactivity for more than 72 hours may reduce SNC yield.
There was no fanfare.No dramatic announcement.Just a ripple of calm across the thousands of connected minds.
The sign-in window pulsed gently, like a soft breath in a shared dream.
In a dim apartment lit only by the neon glint of a dying billboard outside, Liang Yuwei blinked at the message.She hadn't left her bed in two days.
The tremors hadn't returned.
Neither had her sense of purpose.
But SoulNet had.
A flick of her thoughts opened the sign-in panel.
[You've signed in today. +3 SNC]
That was all.
Just a number.
But it made her feel like someone had noticed her presence—like the world knew she was still here.
Tears welled up before she could stop them.
"I'm so tired…" she whispered.
Elsewhere, others logged in out of curiosity. Or habit. Or greed.
A high schooler received +2 SNC.A mechanic in a ruined factory got +4.A struggling researcher received only +1 but smiled like he'd won the lottery.
But for Liang Yuwei, it wasn't about the number.
It was the first time she'd done something consistently in weeks.
Still, something shifted subtly as the sign-in system linked with each user.
Behind the scenes, a thin channel opened from every user's soul, returning just a sliver of resonance back to the SoulNet's core.
The feedback loop was intentional—harmless in theory.
But it amplified everything a user felt.
Excitement became motivation. Frustration turned to impulse. Despair… echoed like a scream through glass.
And for someone like Liang Yuwei, fragile and unguarded…
That night, her dreams were laced with flickers of blue fire.
She stood in a vast digital temple, empty and echoing.
She touched one of the translucent walls—And it shimmered with her memories.
Her father's funeral. The letter from her professor calling her "wasted potential. "The voices—always the voices—saying she wasn't enough.
But then—
The wall changed.
Another image appeared:
Her signing in. A thread of power drawn from her soul. And then… a ripple of strength traveling back toward her.
It entered her chest, quietly—warm, like an embrace.
She gasped awake.
The next morning, she got out of bed.
Not because she had somewhere to go. But because something had answered her silence.
Within SoulNet, Su Yuan observed the data quietly.
In his system interface, new values floated beneath the Deduction System:
[SoulNet System Interface – Core Metrics]
Total Soul Power Available: 198.22 units
Connected Users: 53
Passive Feedback Efficiency: 31.4%
Stability: High (3 anomalies under observation)
Su Yuan narrowed his eyes on the third anomaly.
Liang Yuwei
"The feedback loop isn't just powering me," he murmured. "It's touching people deeper than I thought."
He added a note to her user profile.
[Flagged for Emotional Sensitivity – Monitor Feedback Threshold]
He wouldn't intervene. Not yet.
Because the SoulNet wasn't meant to protect people from themselves.
It was meant to let them grow.
Even if it hurt a little.