Become a mother in a night

Chapter 51

Apart from Alyssa closely monitoring Michelle Xia's new work, Eleanor Ye and Alex Ye were also paying attention. However, their reasons varied. Eleanor would casually read it to pass the time, while Alex, always busy with important matters, would mostly focus on the superficial stats of Michelle's work.
The data irregularities in Michelle's work were noticed not just by Alyssa but also by Eleanor and Alex. And, of course, Michelle herself, as an author, was no rookie. Even though she was publishing in a different world for a different audience, she could still discern whether the growth trend in the data was normal. She recalled that when she first published on a website, the statistics were excellent. At that time, even without being on any recommendation lists, her growth was better than some listed works. But back then, the data grew bit by bit, unlike now where it surged in bulk, in a very organized manner.
It was only after Alyssa approached her that Michelle became aware of the anomalies in her work's data. Surprisingly, she wasn't as anxious about it as Alyssa, who was always keeping an eye on the figures. After all, Michelle had games to play and cartoons to watch with her "sister", Lizzy Xia.
To reassure Alyssa, Michelle responded half-jokingly, "Are you underestimating me? Do you think I need to buy data?"
However, Alyssa was on her way back to the office and didn't have the time to check her phone, leaving Michelle's message unanswered.
Data on ScribeSphere is updated every half hour. And half an hour later, Michelle's work stats doubled neatly.
Michelle: "..."
Watching the skyrocketing data, she wondered if she had sleepwalked the previous night and purchased stats.
With Alyssa still not replying to her messages, and suspecting that someone might be setting her up, Michelle felt a tad uneasy. After a moment's silence, she logged into the website and requested a "data review" from her dashboard. This "data review" feature overlapped somewhat with ScribeSphere's report function. By requesting this from the backend, it prevented envious peers from flagging her.
Out of trust for her friend, and a sense of duty to inform her editor, Michelle concisely explained the data anomaly to Alyssa. It took a while before Alyssa replied.
fafa: "Mhm, I got it."
fafa: "I just got back to the office. I'll investigate the data soon."
fafa: "Damn, the team lead hasn't given me the necessary access yet."
Alyssa felt her rush back to the office was in vain. With her access, she could only inspect the data but couldn't clear or modify it. Meaning, even if she identified the aberrant data, she had no way of rectifying it.
Alyssa sat at her desk, contemplating whether she should call Damien to borrow his account. What she was contemplating was against normal procedure and would be considered a breach. It wouldn't look good if the editorial team's leader found out.
But if she waited until tomorrow, when everyone was back, and they got wind of the data irregularities with Michelle's work, they'd surely be biased. Especially Lulu, Alyssa could already imagine the nasty comments she'd make.
Upon seeing Alyssa's reply, Michelle Xia paused. She glanced at the time. It was almost 10 pm. Most office workers would be at home, preparing to sleep by this hour. Had Alyssa returned to the office?
She sent a message to Alyssa, "fafa, can we deal with this tomorrow? I've already applied for a data review on the backend."
Michelle thought to herself, "It's so late. Don't tell me you're planning to stay up all night dealing with this."
Alyssa responded with just that, "I want to secretly handle this data before they come in to work tomorrow. If they conclude that you're the one manipulating the data, it's going to be problematic."
In the age of the internet, many situations are hard to explain or justify. Michelle had been through similar circumstances. As distressing as it was, she also felt a calm acceptance, a sense of, "Maybe this is just fate."
Previously, she was frequently the target of rumors and slander by peers. When she tried to clarify things, bystanders accused her of playing the victim. Hence, she chose to stay silent. Speaking up seemed futile. Those who believed in her didn't need her explanations, and those who didn't wouldn't change their views regardless.
Michelle typed out, "It's okay, I'm used to it," but hesitated before sending. She saw a new message from Alyssa.
"It's alright. I'll handle this for you, don't worry."
Suddenly, Michelle felt a resurgence of life, a feeling of authenticity to her world. The people around her felt real – flesh and blood, with genuine emotions, not just entities in a virtual "space."
In the past, when faced with similar situations, her editors would say, "An author's primary job is to write. Why concern yourself with everything else?" Readers would say, "I'm here for the book, not the author. What does the author's past controversies have to do with the present work?"
An older fellow writer once consoled her, "Life is a journey of self-cultivation. We're only passing through this world. Why worry about trivialities? The more you do, the more pain you bring upon yourself."
From then on, Michelle started learning not to care, or perhaps, in her loneliness, she had no choice but to not care. Any other choice would worsen things.
Looking at Alyssa's message, she paused for a moment, then deleted her draft.
She asked, "fafa, is there anything you need me to do now?"
Alyssa replied, "Let me think. How about you draft something and update? The price of buying data is related to the number of novel chapters. The more chapters you update, the more it'll cost them."
She added, "We have to fight fire with fire."
Michelle: ...
Michelle: Are you serious?
Alyssa squinted at the screen, flooded with data, occasionally glancing at Michelle's messages. She had already pinpointed a batch of users from the same IP addresses. Without a doubt, they were part of a paid troll army, and a rather low-quality one at that.
Although she didn't have the authority to remove these users, she had contacts from previous troll armies. Perhaps a comparison might bring some revelations. After searching through her contacts, Alyssa found the leader of this troll group and quickly messaged them.
Alyssa had a charming manner of speech and was adept at persuasion; every contact in her list was a cherished connection. After some sweet talking and financial incentives, the troll leader, lacking professionalism, quickly agreed not to manipulate Michelle's data any further. They even revealed the identity of the person who had paid for their services.
While Alyssa didn't have the rights to deal with the existing manipulated data, the problem was significantly reduced without the continuous inflow of fake interactions.
Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief and messaged Michelle. However, she was soon approached by the troll leader again.
CyberMaraude: Half of my accounts are banned. Did you do this?
Alyssa: ?
Internally, Alyssa wondered, "I didn't even know I had that authority."
Having recently returned to ScribeSphere, Damien had, for reasons known to him, not granted Alyssa full access to her account. Alyssa reviewed Michelle's work data, noting that the obviously fake comments had been removed.
The fact that the troll accounts had been banned meant someone else was also addressing the issue. This indicated she wasn't the only one in the know.
While it was comforting that someone was taking immediate action, it also brought concerns. What if, for instance, a post surfaced on the ScribeSphere forum the next morning, accusing their newly-signed author of data manipulation?
Alyssa spent quite some time explaining to "CyberMaraude" before he was convinced she hadn't banned the accounts. He complained about having to start over and build new ones.
The individual who had purchased data from "CyberMaraude" had used a throwaway account, offering minimal information. To track them down, Alyssa had to resort to less conventional methods.
She brought Brandon Su out from her blocklist and messaged him.
Alyssa: Brandon, I need a tech-savvy's contact.
Alyssa: Now. Immediately. Right this instant.
Brandon Su was deep in the throes of writing, trying to keep up with his looming deadline, when his phone buzzed. A part of him groaned, cursing the interruption, but his habitual curiosity had him grabbing the phone regardless.
It's not procrastinating!
What if it was something urgent?
As he unlocked his phone and tapped into Message, he couldn't help the flicker of surprise when he saw Alyssa's name flash across the screen. After a quick scan through his contacts, he forwarded the contact card of his tech-savvy associate to her.
Just as he was about to send her a cheeky emoji with a playful comment to lighten the mood, the message turned red, signaling that Alyssa had rejected it.
Brandon stared, dumbfounded.
Reach out when you need something, and block when you don't?
Alyssa, you truly are heartless.