Slapping in the Face and Pretending to Be Cool Starts from Working Overtime

This city has no name, people just call it "Xindu". Here, success is simplified into a set of cold and intuitive algorithms: the number of digits in the account balance, the coordinates of the real estate in the name, the "gold content" of the contacts in the address book, and the ubiquitous "social value score" that seems to be imprinted on everyone's forehead. The latter is particularly critical. It is dynamically evaluated by a large and secret "social credit system", which is not only related to your loan limit and your children's schooling order, but is even as subtle as the probability that you can book a window seat at a high-end restaurant. People chase higher ratings like oxygen because it defines who you are and the life you deserve. Here, emotions are redundant data, ideals are code that runs incorrectly, and only quantifiable "value" is hard currency. When night falls, the glass curtain walls of the skyscrapers reflect the cold flow of financial data, like huge scoreboards that are constantly being refreshed, overlooking the crowds of people rushing around like ants.