Weichen's Livestream: Exchange Anything

Year 214 of the New Calendar, Graystone District. High walls separate the neon glow of the conglomerates from the lifeless wasteland below, while capital has a firm monopoly over the city’s electromagnetic network. Yet in a dilapidated old logistics warehouse, an obscure late-night livestream with mysterious IP ownership quietly connects to the nerves of the entire world. The streamer is Ling Wei. She sits cross-legged beneath a dim yellow lamp. She doesn’t advertise or haggle, and never accepts Federation credits or banknotes. On her table lie only “causality-law auction items” brought up from the depths of ruins from the Old Era: Primordial Water that can regrow flesh on bare bones, Soul-Calming Bells that can throw precision instruments into total disarray, and the ultimate ticket capable of redrawing the city’s balance of power. At first, the conglomerate executives, assassins, and Special Investigation Bureau scientists who flock to the stream scoffed, trying to shut it down and track it by force with high-energy electromagnetic pulses and overwhelming force. Until the very next second The central control units across the city physically melted down all at once. The haughty elite fell to their knees before the operating lights, trembling as they handed over priceless family legacies and the heaviest memories of their lives. “Money is just the price of admission.” On the other side of the screen, Ling Wei lifted her cooling coarse-clay teacup without so much as raising an eyelid. “What will you trade for tonight’s price?”