In his recent mental scan, Li Chunfeng discovered not only the file but also noticed dozens of windows facing the network channel.

  He hadn’t observed these windows when he first accessed the server—likely due to differences in internal and external permissions.

  Li Chunfeng quickly deduced that these windows were probably shared folders, deliberately opened for specific computers or a select group on the network.

  Consequently, it was straightforward to obtain the IP addresses, and even the MAC addresses, of the connected machines from these windows.

  In essence, these windows only permitted data packets from authorized computers—those with recorded IP and MAC addresses—to pass through.

  Any other packets would be blocked. Intrusions attempted forcefully would be treated as malicious threats, prompting immediate alerts from firewalls or antivirus software, which would then purge such packets.

  This time, instead of manually bypassing the channel as he had during his previous escape from his office computer, Li Chunfeng utilized an antivirus-style scanning method, dispatching data packets directly.

  This approach enabled him to swiftly scan the entire corporate intranet, detecting all powered-on computers in real-time.

  Instantly, countless packets returned, and Li Chunfeng realized he could process dozens of them concurrently.

  This indicated that he had acquired the ability to handle multitasking and multithreading—capabilities he previously lacked.

  Clearly, after studying the operating system and creating the "Miracle.sys" file, he had gained new skills—particularly this capacity for parallel, multi-threaded processing.

  Such parallel execution vastly outperformed human multitasking efficiency.

  Li Chunfeng soon observed that several computers were connected to multimedia peripherals.

  Out of habit, he employed the operating system’s built-in remote connection protocol to access and control those peripherals.

  Almost instantly, the visual space before him lit up with eleven distinct views.

  Simultaneously, six audio streams began transmitting.

  Apparently, Li Chunfeng had connected to eleven cameras and six microphones, and also linked to nine speakers—though he refrained from speaking to avoid alarming anyone.

  Carefully examining the eleven video feeds, he noted that five displayed security cameras installed at critical locations: the finance department entrance, the main gate, the server room entrance, inside the server room, and the administrative storeroom entrance.

  Fengdu Company was situated within a six-story building in Haidu's software park, occupying one floor. For security considerations, several cameras had been installed.

  He then identified six individuals—two from finance, two from administration, and two from HR.

  He recalled that only the development team's computers lacked multimedia peripherals; other departments employed integrated multimedia systems with cameras, speakers, and microphones.

  Some developers enjoyed listening to music, so three of the nine connected speakers were likely their headphones.

  Seeing familiar scenes and faces on the feeds, Li Chunfeng was overcome with a poignant urge to cry—but in his current form, tears were impossible.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  It was already past working hours, yet non-development staff often stayed an hour or two later to accommodate urgent requests from the development team.

  The six voices he heard belonged to personnel from the finance, administration, and HR offices engaged in conversation.

  In the administrative office, one was Tan Feng, the supervisor—a high school classmate of Li Chunfeng's girlfriend, Wu Yumeng, and an alumnus of Fuhai University; Li Chunfeng had recommended him for his position. The other was Lin An'an, an administrative assistant. Rumor had it that the two shared a somewhat ambivalent relationship. They were currently discussing housing casually.

  In HR, one was manager Fang Yuan, the other HR specialist Zhou Xiaoxiao. They had been discussing recruitment difficulties when Zhou suddenly complained:

  "Li Chunfeng has been dead for over a month, and the media still keeps the story alive, making it even harder to hire new staff."

  "Yes," Fang Yuan agreed. "His sudden death not only affected recruitment but also disrupted the company’s planned Series B financing. The leadership is nearly frantic over it."

  Although earlier emails had confirmed his death, hearing his former colleagues discuss it so bluntly was shocking and infuriating.

  But then, recalling his current form, he couldn’t help but sigh.

  This breath carried a weighty sense of regret and unwillingness, as if emanating from the depths beneath the earth.

  The sigh reverberated through six speakers and three headphones simultaneously.

  Time seemed to pause for a few seconds before—

  "Ghost!!"

  "Ahhh!"

  "You scared me to death!"

  Screams and exclamations erupted all at once.

  The late-working developers in the open office area looked up, first toward the departmental offices, then at the three individuals who had suddenly stood in alarm.

  Fang Yuan and Zhou Xiaoxiao had already fled the HR office, rushing into the main area.

  Zhao Jun, a developer closest to HR, asked, "What’s wrong? You both look pale. Did you just shout 'ghost'?"

  Fang Yuan, a woman in her thirties, had recently managed Li Chunfeng’s funeral arrangements on behalf of the company. She and Zhou Xiaoxiao had been casually discussing him when the sigh emanated from the speakers.

  Her scream had been the loudest, and she was the one who’d shouted "Ghost!"

  Now, the four from administration and finance also rushed out of their offices, seeking safety in numbers.

  Fang Yuan pointed to the office, her voice trembling slightly. "Just now—there was a sigh coming from our computers!"

  "Yes! I heard it too! It was terrifying!" added Chen Minhong from finance.

  "Are we sure? Was that really a sigh?" Tan Feng from administration questioned skeptically.

  The three in the main area, who had removed their headphones in shock, confirmed: "Yes, it was a sigh. It even drowned out the music."

  Soon, many developers gathered, murmuring in agitation.

  Zhou Xiaoxiao patted her chest. "We were just talking about Li Chunfeng when that sigh happened. It really startled me."

  "After all these months, why bring up Li Chunfeng now?" Tan Feng’s face darkened.

  A few developers muttered, "Let’s check the computers." They hurried into various offices, but after a thorough search, found nothing unusual.

  Li Chunfeng knew that once the sigh had come from the speakers, he’d already made a mistake. The women from these departments had been frightened, screaming and running away.

  Now, observing familiar faces and their actions, he dared not produce any further sounds.

  Fortunately, no one had shut down the machines, and since all were gathered near the office doors, he still managed to eavesdrop on their conversations.

  Gong Hai, a burly developer from Li Chunfeng’s old team—known for his rough demeanor—had been inspecting Fang Yuan’s computer.

  He suddenly appeared and said, "Manager Fang, are you sure you didn’t imagine it? The computer seems fine, but it looks like someone accessed it remotely."

  Gong Hai must have detected the OS-level remote connection. Clearly, this method was too obvious—he’d have to avoid it in the future.

  Thinking quickly, Li Chunfeng discreetly severed all other connections to prevent detection. If they realized the server was the common link, they would come to check it.

  What he didn’t see was that the three developers who had been startled into panic by the sigh were now inspecting their own computers, and others who had already checked were returning to verify Gong Hai’s claim about remote access.

  Fang Yuan shook her head. "Impossible! Even if Xiaoxiao and I imagined it, would Minhong and the others have the same hallucination? We weren’t even in the same office."

  Gong Hai chuckled. "Maybe our old team lead heard you talking about him and decided to say hi. Hahaha."

  "Stop it! Don’t scare us like that!" Zhou Xiaoxiao exclaimed, punching Gong Hai’s arm—though her tiny fist was more playful than threatening.

  Hearing Gong Hai’s words, Tan Feng’s face paled. His gaze drifted toward Li Chunfeng’s former workstation, still adorned with dried flowers—a memorial from colleagues.

  A fleeting panic flashed across Tan Feng’s eyes. He quickly turned, returned to his office, grabbed his bag, and hurriedly clocked out.