I asked you to write a light novel, but you wrote about living?

The basement was filled with a mixture of musty smells from years of lack of sunlight and the odor of cheap engine oil.

In front of the computer screen, Yu Wen was watching the constantly changing green numbers in the earnings center.

Upon hearing Yu Yin's voice, he paused for a moment while holding the mouse, then loosened his fingers, placed both hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, and turned the wheelchair around.

Two tall men followed Yu Yin into the narrow, damp basement.

The bald man gripped the iron gate handle with his backhand and pulled hard.

"Clang!"

The iron gate slammed shut with a dull metallic clang, completely shutting out all the noise from the streets of the lower city.

The light in the basement dimmed instantly, leaving only the faint blue glow of the old computer screen and the shaky yellow light bulb overhead.

The man with the buzz cut looked over Yu Yin's head and swept across the entire room.

The walls are mottled, the cables are tangled and gray, and the buckets are rusty and collect rainwater.

Finally, his gaze settled on Yu Wen's atrophied legs, his worn-out leather wheelchair, and his calm, expressionless face.

The gentle smile on his face vanished completely.

The man with the buzz cut stood up straight, his right hand's five metal fingers opening and closing in sequence, making a clicking sound as metal rubbed together.

"Starshine authorized us to come."

The man with the buzz cut looked down at Yu Wen and uttered these words.

Upon hearing the name "Starshine," Yu Wen's gaze shifted from the buzz-cut man's face, calmly sweeping over the bulging tool bags at their waists and the silver cooler with a biomedical logo in the bald man's hand.

The countdown timer in the lower right corner of the computer has not yet completely reached zero.

But the debt collectors had already arrived at the door.

He understood everything in an instant.

The only sound in the basement was the hum of the computer tower fan.

The man with the buzz cut glanced at Yu Yin, who was standing next to the wooden table, and frowned slightly.

Those of them in this line of work know that the scene will be quite unsightly when they cut open the flesh and gouge out the eyeballs, and he doesn't want children screaming in the way.

"Should you let your sister go out first?"

The man with the buzz cut looked at Yu Wen, his thumb already flicking off the safety switch on the stun gun.

The bald man placed the silver cooler on the puddle, unzipped it, and was about to take out a stain-resistant tarp from his bag to protect himself from blood splattering, while muttering to himself:

"Hurry up, or you'll get this little girl's clothes dirty..."

"We've raised enough money."

Yu Wen leaned back on the leather cushion of his wheelchair, his hands casually resting on the metal rims, and interrupted their conversation in a calm tone.

The bald man's hand, which was pulling the waterproof tarpaulin out, froze in mid-air.

The thumb of the man with the buzz cut, who had just flipped the safety switch, also froze on the button.

The two stopped what they were doing, turned around, and looked at Yu Wen, who was sitting in a wheelchair, as if he were a lunatic.

"What?"

The man with the buzz cut squinted, thinking he had misheard.

Yu Wen twitched his chapped lips, gave a cold laugh, and repeated:

"I said, three million, that's enough."

A deathly silence fell over the basement.

The bald man and the man with the buzz cut suddenly widened their eyes.

Their gaze swept across the room once more.

The bricks in the corner were covered with green mold, the water pipes were dripping, the nutrient solution tubes on the table were shriveled, and Yu Wen was wearing an old uniform that was washed until it was faded and the cuffs were worn out.

Their eyes were filled with disbelief and a sense of absurdity.

If this kid had three million star coins, how could he still be living in this squalid gutter that even rats wouldn't want to stay in?!

Yu Yin stood at the corner of the table. Upon hearing the number "three million," she turned to look at Yu Wen with some confusion.

"Brother, what's wrong? What three million?"

Yu Wen didn't want his sister to know about the debt.

He turned his head, looked into Yu Yin's eyes, and said calmly:

"The two of them are my brother's business partners. When my brother does business, he needs to pay them three million upfront."

Yu Yin gave a vague "Oh" in response.

She placed the paper bag containing the powder compact on the table, carefully pushed it to Yu Wen's side, and said to him:

"I'll listen to my brother when it comes to things that you adults do."

She didn't really have a concrete concept of three million, nor did she care much about that much money.

For her, being able to eat her fill every day, buy medicine to treat her brother's headaches, and have a place to sleep was enough.

She doesn't need that much money at all.

But the bald man and the crew-cut man wouldn't listen to these words.

The bald man suddenly stood up straight and gripped the stun gun at his waist.

He stared at Yu Wen, simply unable to believe that a disabled person from the lower city could have such a huge sum of money.

"Kid, don't try to fool us!"

The bald man lowered his voice, his leather boots slamming into the concrete as he took a heavy half-step forward, his muscles tensing.

Yu Yin heard the other person's unfriendly tone and acted faster than her brain could process it.

She stepped to the side of the wheelchair, spread her arms, and stood directly in front of Yu Wen.

She raised her head, her clear eyes staring fearlessly at the two burly men who were a head taller than her, and said loudly:

"Why? My brother is the smartest person in the world, and he's already made a lot of money from his books! If he says he's raised enough, he means it. He never lies!"

Book?

What book?

The bald man and the man with the buzz cut exchanged a glance.

They took a closer look at Yu Wen, who was sitting in a wheelchair.

Those who work in debt collection already understand the reasons for the debt when they take on a case.

The two looked at Yu Wen, who was sitting in a wheelchair. This disabled boy who couldn't even stand up was the one who was sued by Xinghui for a huge amount of liquidated damages and owed three million yuan because he was accused of plagiarism after writing a book.

You still dare to write?

When the crew cut's gaze passed over Yu Yin's head, over Yu Wen's shoulder, and landed on the peeling wooden table behind him.

His gaze suddenly froze.

In an era where brain-computer interfaces, retinal projection, and holographic floating panels are already widespread, physical keyboards have almost disappeared.

Aside from the old scrap yards on the black market used for dismantling and refining metals, few people would use these old-fashioned tools that require tapping with your fingers.

At this moment, a keyboard is placed on the table.

The man with the buzz cut extended a dark gray metallic finger, pointing at the table, his voice suddenly becoming dry and distorted:

"Don't you think...that keyboard looks familiar?"