Chapter 3: This Memory Is Too Vivid

The thing Lin Xiao dreaded facing the most was the two items listed at the bottom of his ledger:

By April 30th, the quarterly tax return needed to be completed, with an estimated tax of 6,432 yuan.

April was the month for quarterly tax filing, which meant an unexpected expense suddenly appeared this month.

Looking at this cost, Lin Xiao sighed helplessly, “In such a backward world, they can only levy business tax. If only they had value-added tax instead.”

Business tax is levied based on gross turnover. Although his memory experience store hadn't made much profit, the turnover wasn't low.

Even at a 2% tax rate, he still had to pay over 6,000 yuan in taxes.

If it were VAT, he would only need to pay tax on the added value portion.

For someone like Lin Xiao who operated so “sincerely,” VAT would undoubtedly be better.

But he also knew there was no use complaining—this world’s level of development simply couldn't support such a refined taxation system.

Having been in this world for a month, Lin Xiao had come to understand that its development roughly matched that of the 1930s in his previous life.

It had entered the electrification era, with televisions, washing machines, and wired telephones, but had not yet stepped into the information age, let alone the mobile internet era.

Yet, calling this world backward wasn’t entirely accurate, for it possessed a unique economic form:

Various shops based on supernatural abilities had emerged—like Lin Xiao’s memory experience store.

Overall, living in this world didn’t feel too inconvenient to Lin Xiao; there was even a certain freshness to it.

What truly troubled him was the current financial pressure, especially the massive burden that threatened to break the camel’s back:

On May 1st, rent—28,198 yuan.

Seeing this expense, Lin Xiao felt a pounding headache.

The city he lived in was called Donghai City, a regional hub with a population of 11 million, equivalent in his understanding to a strong provincial capital in his former life.

The shop he rented was 147 square meters in size.

Of that, 110 square meters was office space, divided into a public area, two meeting rooms, and a small office.

The remaining 37 square meters formed his living quarters, including a bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen, solving his housing issue.

Though the shop didn’t face the street directly, it was located in the city’s prime district, making this price surprisingly affordable.

In fact, when he rented it, the beautiful landlady was worried he couldn’t afford it and even wanted to give him a 40% discount.

But there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and Lin Xiao didn’t dare to take advantage of her kindness.

If he couldn’t pay the rent in a few days, would he have to settle the debt with genuine essence of white lust?

“I hope to close a few big deals in the next few days to survive this cash flow crisis,” he thought.

Just as this hope arose, a fresh headache struck him: “The competition is so fierce. Can I possibly surpass those fantasy experience stores?”

They, too, sold virtual experiences, but what they offered was truly dazzling—promising anything you could imagine, no limits.

“Right now, I can only pin my hopes on leveling up my supernatural ability and, once promoted, provide more competitive services.”

Lin Xiao opened his palm, revealing a black amber suspended above it.

This was a Memory Amber, cold and smooth on the surface. The painful memories just extracted from Mr. Zhang’s mind were sealed within this deep black gem.

If a customer wanted to experience the feeling of standing on a vast grassland, activating this amber would let them fully immerse themselves in the sensation.

The immersion was absolute, far surpassing any VR experience Lin Xiao had ever known in his past life.

However, who would want to experience such painful memories…?

Lin Xiao wasn’t sure; human diversity always surpassed imagination.

But even if a few perverse ones did, the fees they would pay couldn’t possibly recoup the 30,000 yuan he had just spent.

For Lin Xiao, purchasing such painful memories at a high price wasn’t for customers to experience—it was for him to “consume.”

In this world, supernatural beings needed to accumulate “source energy” to level up, which Lin Xiao understood from his previous life as EXP (experience points).

Lin Xiao wasn’t just an ordinary memory-type supernatural; he could extract others’ painful memories and convert them into the source energy required for promotion.

In the month since arriving, he had “devoured” four such painful memory ambers.

Adding the one in his hand, he should be able to level up now.

Once promoted, his shop could offer more services—he felt a glimmer of hope to turn his current predicament around.

“Ding dong!”

A sudden sound almost made Lin Xiao think a system panel had popped up, but he quickly realized it came from outside the door.

It was probably the mailbox with new mail—hopefully not another bill.

But he had no time to check; he took a deep breath and pressed the crystal to his forehead.

As his mind delved in, the amber began to tremble slightly, its surface shimmering with a faint dark glow.

Immediately, a cold energy surged from the amber, seeping through his forehead into his brain.

Images flooded Lin Xiao’s mind: the humiliation and pain from Mr. Zhang’s memories washed over his consciousness like a tidal wave.

“Who says there’s never true empathy in this world?” Fine beads of sweat appeared on his brow.

The painful memories churned violently in his mind, as if trying to drown him.

But Lin Xiao did not retreat; instead, he clenched the amber tighter with renewed determination.

He knew these pains were the source of his power.

“Pop!”

At that moment, Lin Xiao felt as if a bubble burst inside his mind.

A tingling itch spread across the back of his head, accompanied by the faint rustle of fungal threads growing along his skull’s inner wall.

What on earth was that?

This sensation startled Lin Xiao, but he soon realized it was the feeling of a breakthrough—the surge of spiritual power during his promotion.

What he heard was not a physical sound but an auditory hallucination of newborn neural synapses extending.

His cerebrospinal fluid thickened, his frontal lobe warmed, and the clear barriers between brain regions began to dissolve.

Neurons stretched out milky pseudopods, building a rainbow bridge over his corpus callosum.

The vivid sensation was that all his past memories were being activated.

Long-forgotten childhood memories surged back, as if newly formed connecting neurons had recompiled them into 4K imagery.

Lin Xiao even saw himself at age two, when his mother took him to a women’s bathhouse, the vast expanse of pale bodies before his eyes.

No—these memories were not mere images; they had become tangible, as real as the physical world.

Lin Xiao felt as though if he reached out, he could firmly grasp the things in these memories and pull them into the present reality.

The next moment, a strong sense of detachment brought him back to the present.

Lin Xiao opened his eyes; the Memory Amber in his hand had expended its energy and crumbled into powder.

A classic reduction to dust.

He dumped the powder into the trash bin and began to examine his body.

“I should have been promoted to a level two supernatural. Any changes?”

He scrutinized himself carefully—no black, foul-smelling discharge had emerged.

No pores spewing filth? That’s not scientific!

So what exactly had improved?

Then, an overwhelming flood of information surged into his mind.

Lin Xiao immediately understood that upon this promotion, he had gained the ability to pull objects from memories directly into reality.

No wonder the memories had seemed so vivid and lifelike during the breakthrough, as if everything was within reach.

But this power was incredibly formidable!

Lin Xiao could hardly believe it—it was essentially a diluted form of creation ability. Could it really work?

He was eager to test it, so he closed his eyes and immersed himself once more in his memories.

This time, he entered the study from his previous life.

The grayish-white laminated computer desk was yellowed at the edges, with several scuffs exposing rough wood chips beneath, but the surface was spotless.

On the desk neatly lay books: “In-Depth Radar System Engineering,” “Research on Blackout Communication Difficulties,” “Application of High-Temperature Superconducting Materials in Electronic Warfare Systems (Internal Confidential Edition)”...

In his previous life, at age 35, Lin Xiao had been a military research scientist specializing in electronic communications.

These books, which had once troubled him deeply, now seemed incredibly familiar and dear.

His gaze moved from the books to the desk corner, where a “Star Wars” Darth Vader helmet-shaped ashtray sat, its black armor lines cold and severe.

Whenever ash fell inside, its eyes would flicker with a dark red glow.

The ashtray wasn’t piled high with cigarette butts—only two or three carefully stubbed out cigarettes were neatly arranged around the edge, and the ashes were clearly cleaned regularly.

Next to the ashtray was a mechanical keyboard with tea-switches. Though not a limited edition, even the WASD keys had non-slip stickers, and it was spotless without a trace of grease.

The keyboard’s crevices were meticulously cleaned, showing no dust at all.

Seeing this scene again stirred a flood of emotions in Lin Xiao.

Countless nights in his past life, he had sat before this desk, studying, gaming, and... viewing his teachers’ materials...

At this thought, Lin Xiao’s heart suddenly tightened:

The records of the web browser!

What records had he left before crossing over?

Would he be doomed?

Urgently, he reached out and grabbed the computer on the desk, attempting to pull it into reality for a closer look.