Ark Simulator, don't I have no physical form?

"Huh?" Eyjafjalla was taken aback.

“As a supplement, or a quick source of energy in an emergency,” Suri explained. “It’s unrealistic to completely eliminate it long-term, especially when you’re under a lot of stress or extremely hungry. But you must strictly control the amount and frequency. Grab a small bag of plain potato chips, or a small bag of whole-wheat crackers (if you have any), and a small bottle of the cheapest, simplest yogurt or milk—note that raw milk should be listed first, not those ‘flavored milk drinks’.”

Eyjafjalla's feelings were somewhat complicated. Suri hadn't completely forbidden her from accessing those cheap and tempting snacks; instead, she allowed her to take a little, which made her feel a warm sense of being understood. But at the same time, she clearly knew that this was a limited form of "indulgence."

She ended up with the smallest bag of plain potato chips and a bottle of chilled yogurt with a relatively clean ingredient list—even though it cost almost three times as much as the large bottle of flavored drink next to it.

As Eyjafjalla pushed her shopping cart, laden with basic groceries and a few "luxury" items, toward the checkout, she felt uneasy. She had no idea how much it would cost in total, as it represented only a portion of the cash she had on hand.

The cashier was a middle-aged woman with a blank expression, skillfully scanning the merchandise. As the beeping sounds continued, the numbers on the display screen kept changing. Eyjafjalla's heart leaped into her throat.

"Total: 142 Colombian dollars and 75 cents. (The author isn't really familiar with local prices either; those interested can check out King Squiche's video on Bilibili.)" the cashier announced.

Volume 19, Chapter 1276: A New Beginning

Eyjafjalla breathed a sigh of relief; it was less than she had expected. She took out the change she had prepared, carefully counted it, and handed it over. As she received the change and the shopping bag, she felt her palms getting sweaty.

Stepping out of the supermarket, the damp, chilly air invigorated her. Carrying a heavy bag of groceries for the next few days, Eyjafjalla felt a mix of emotions: the relief of completing a task, the frustration of high prices for healthy food, and anxieties about her future financial situation.

“Don’t worry, Eyjafjalla,” Suri’s voice rang out again, calm and resolute. “This is just the beginning. Once we’ve settled the stock account and have even a little stable income, your diet can gradually improve. Fresh vegetables, fruits, quality meats, and dairy products can be added to the menu step by step. Leave the money to me.”

He paused, his tone becoming more serious: "But you must remember, and promise me: unless there are special circumstances, never eat those cheap junk foods as your main meals. Your body is the foundation of everything you have in the future, whether it's completing your studies or doing anything you want. A healthy body and a clear mind are paramount. Those things," he said, referring to the small bag of potato chips in the shopping bag, "can only be eaten occasionally as snacks, never as a substitute for regular meals. Understand?"

Eyjafjalla carried her bag, walking home. Her pink eyes gazed at the slightly potholed sidewalk ahead, while Su Rui's serious yet concerned words echoed in her ears. She recalled her earlier experience at the supermarket, her hesitation between the temptation of cheap snacks and the expense of expensive vegetables, and Su Rui's calm analysis and planning.

“I understand, Suri,” she replied softly, her voice low but unusually earnest. “I will eat properly. Junk food… I’ll only eat a little bit occasionally.”

“Very good.” Suri’s voice seemed to have softened a bit. “Now, let’s go home. Pack these things up, and then we’ll figure out how to use the remaining money to earn your first ‘health food fund’ in the Colombian financial market.”

Eyjafjalla nodded and quickened her pace home. The heavy shopping bags in her hands no longer felt like a burden, but rather the first step towards a new life and new possibilities. Although the road ahead was still uncertain and prices were still frustratingly high, at least she wasn't groping in the dark alone.

In her mind, a voice was guiding her, planning her future, and even... caring about her health.

This feeling is strange, incredible, but... it doesn't seem so bad.

Eyjafjalla's lips unconsciously curved upwards slightly once again.

Carrying heavy shopping bags back to her still cold and empty apartment, Eyjafjalla carefully categorized the groceries and placed them in the nearly empty refrigerator and cupboards. The somewhat shriveled cabbage, a small bag of carrots, a few onions, a carton of eggs, and that precious bag of whole-wheat pasta and rice… Looking at these simple, even somewhat meager, foods, she felt a little lighter than when she left the supermarket. At least for the next few days, she wouldn't have to worry about what to eat or whether she would go hungry.

But the relief was fleeting. As she sat at the table, spreading out the colorful supermarket receipts, staring at the painfully low figures, and remembering that the groceries in the kitchen would only last a week at most, while the cash her parents had left was rapidly dwindling, the weight of reality gripped her once more. Stocks… that seemingly mysterious and dangerous plan—could it really work? Risking her last few hundred yuan on an uncertain future—what if she lost? She couldn't bear to imagine it.

“Suri,” she couldn’t help but ask herself, her voice trembling slightly, “are we...really going to use that money to...invest in stocks? What if...what if we fail? Then we’ll really have nothing left…”

At this moment, Su Rui's "consciousness" seemed to be caught in a peculiar state, akin to "entanglement" and "high-speed calculation." He did not immediately answer Eyjafjalla's question.

He is reassessing.

Since entering Eyjafjalla's consciousness and sharing her senses and some of her surface-level thoughts, Suri has been trying to understand this country called "Colombia," its social rules, and especially its economic system. Guiding Eyjafjalla in writing letters of appeal, making phone calls, and even planning food purchases are all based on his deductions of human nature, logic, and common sense about society gleaned from Eyjafjalla's fragmented memories, and the results have been quite good.

However, the suggestion of "stock trading" was initially based on a relatively traditional and conservative approach: leveraging his advantage in processing information (assuming he could somehow perceive subtle probability fluctuations beyond publicly available market information) to engage in low-risk, low-return short-term trading, accumulating wealth gradually to solve Eyjafjalla's survival problem. This required capital, operational skills, and (although he assessed it as extremely low) risk, as well as a certain degree of learning and participation from Eyjafjalla.

However, just now, when Eyjafjalla was checking out at the supermarket, the moment the scanner at the checkout exchanged data with the supermarket's local area network and even the broader intercity commodity circulation and payment network; when Eyjafjalla passed by the public display screens on the street flashing various advertisements and real-time information; especially when Suri tried to "perceive" more about the operating mechanism of the Colombian financial market, trying to find the specific entry point for that "information advantage"—he "touched" something.

That was not a physical touch, but a more fundamental, conscious "perception" and "connection".

The "network" of this world, especially the intercity data network upon which a highly commercialized and technologically advanced mobile city-state like Colombia relies, seems to possess a vulnerability at its core—an undefended, or rather, a flawed defense mechanism—that presents an opening for a pure consciousness like Su Rui. This isn't hacking, but rather an advantage stemming from a difference in "form of existence." His consciousness can, like mercury spilling across the ground, silently infiltrate the "rivers" of electronic signals and data streams, performing extremely rapid and covert readings, and even... extremely minute "writings" or "guidance" that don't trigger system alarms.

He "saw" countless streams of information surging forth: commodity prices, logistics information, company announcements, and even some non-public analytical reports and market sentiment fluctuations that left faint traces in the ocean of data... Of course, this also included real-time trading data of the stock market, order queues, and those subtle capital flows and probabilistic trends hidden behind the massive trading volume.

Volume 19, Chapter 1277: Eyjafjalla doesn't need to know too much.

More importantly, Suri realized that if he wanted to, and was careful enough, he could perhaps do more—not just "see" those highly certain short-term price fluctuations captured by his special perception abilities, but he could even directly perform extremely small "operations" at the data level that were enough to affect the trading results at the "Eyjafjalla account" level. For example, on a stock that was temporarily ignored by the market and would inevitably trigger a slight price increase a few seconds later due to a small planned transaction, he could ensure that Eyjafjalla's tiny buy order would be executed at the optimal price just before the price increase; or, when the price reached the predetermined profit point and he was ready to sell, he could ensure that the sell order would be matched by the system instantly, avoiding minor slippage losses due to delays.

This operation is not about manipulating the market (he doesn't have that ability, nor does he want to attract any attention), but rather about making precise, self-advantageous "fine-tuning" at the edge of massive data flows, leveraging information asymmetry and micro-opportunities. It's like precisely placing a leaf in a raging river, allowing it to be carried in the direction you want it to go by a small, inevitable eddy.

Risk? Almost zero. As long as he's careful enough and avoids any unusual operations that might trigger system alerts (such as high-frequency, large-scale, or illogical trading), and only makes extremely limited "optimizations" to Eyjafjalla's insignificant little account, conforming to superficial market logic, the chances of being discovered are negligible. Profit? For Eyjafjalla personally, starting with almost zero capital, as long as she can consistently and continuously obtain even just a few Colombian dollars in net profit each day, the accumulated profits will be enough to completely solve her basic survival problems, and even pay for her tuition.

This means that Eyjafjalla doesn't need to worry about "start-up capital" or bear any risk of "loss" (under Su Rui's operating model, the probability of loss is reduced to a theoretically low limit). She doesn't even need to understand complex candlestick charts and technical indicators. All she needs is a basic securities account capable of small-scale stock trading, and Su Rui's "operations."

So, here's the question. Was it still necessary for him to explain the principles of "stock trading" to Eyjafjalla, which she needed to learn and understand? Or, should he let Eyjafjalla know that he was actually capable of doing that?

Suri's "consciousness" quickly weighed the options. Making Ayjafjalla completely dependent on him would solve the economic problem the fastest, but it would also deprive her of opportunities to understand society, learn to handle complex matters independently, and might even foster an unrealistic dependency. This didn't align with his initial intention of "symbiosis." He helped her hoping she could grow, become independent, and ultimately take control of her own life, not become a puppet under his manipulation.

On the other hand, it seems unwise to distract a minor under immense pressure by teaching complex and stressful financial operations. Her primary task should be studying, completing her education, and acquiring the knowledge and skills to establish herself in society as quickly as possible after losing her parents' protection. Economic pressure should be removed, rather than becoming a new and heavy burden on her path to adulthood.

After much deliberation, Su Rui made a decision.

“Eyjafjalla.” His voice echoed in Eyjafjalla’s mind, breaking her anxiety and silence.

"Huh? Suri?" Eyjafjalla snapped out of her daze, nervously awaiting his "stock trading lesson."

"Regarding making money," Suri's voice was calm as usual, but what she said stunned Eyjafjalla, "you don't need to worry about it for now. What I told you before was just to give you a basic understanding of 'investment' and 'the market,' to make you understand that money can make money, but the process is risky and requires knowledge and judgment."

"No... we don't need to worry about it?" Eyjafjalla blinked her pink eyes, not understanding. "But we need that money..."

“Keep that money as an emergency fund,” Su Rui interrupted her, her tone carrying an unquestionable certainty. “I will take care of the money to cover your meals, bills, and any normal living expenses you might need in the future.”

"You...you're going to handle this?" Eyjafjalla was even more confused. "How? Suri, you...didn't you say I needed to open an account, and then you'd tell me what to buy and sell? Besides, we only have this much money..."

“I have a new idea for the method, more… direct, and safer than I previously thought.” Suri explained in a way that Eyjafjalla could understand, but concealed the most crucial details about his direct “manipulation” of the network. “I can… obtain more timely and certain market information through certain methods, and then conduct some very small-scale, extremely low-risk operations. Because the amount is small and the target is small, it will hardly attract any attention. You just need to cooperate with me, and when needed, open a very simple securities account using your identity, and then hand the account over to me to manage. You don’t need to stare at it every day, nor do you need to understand those complicated charts. You just need to know that each month, that account will have enough extra money to pay for your food, utilities, and… future tuition fees.”

Eyjafjalla was completely stunned. A stable monthly income? Enough to cover all basic expenses and even... tuition? It sounded like a fairy tale. No, even less real than a fairy tale. While Suri's earlier talk of "stock trading" had made her nervous, at least it sounded like a "plan," with risks, operations, and the need for her participation. But now, it seemed Suri meant he could simply "conjure" money?

“Suri…you…you’re serious?” Eyjafjalla’s voice was a little dry. “This…how is this possible? Could it be…could it be illegal? Or…is it very dangerous?”

“It’s not illegal, at least not under my planned operation. It won’t violate any explicit securities regulations.” Su Rui’s voice carried a strange persuasiveness. “It only takes advantage of a slight… time difference in information acquisition, and it only targets your insignificant little account. It’s like… knowing which bakery will have a sale tomorrow and then going to buy it in advance. It’s just that the ‘discount’ information I have is more precise and covers a wider range. As for the dangers,” he paused, “as long as we’re not greedy and only earn a little bit each time, like ants carrying grains, it won’t attract anyone’s attention. Our goal is small, just to ensure you have enough to eat and wear and be able to study in peace, not to make you a millionaire.”

Volume 19, Chapter 1278: You still dare to skip two weeks of class?!

"Focus on your studies." These four words were like a ray of light, piercing through the heavy clouds of financial pressure that shrouded Eyjafjalla's heart. She had almost forgotten that she was still a student, and that her studies should be her priority. The disappearance of her parents and her dire financial straits had made going to school seem like a luxury. But Suri said he could solve the money problem, allowing her to...focus on her studies?

“So, Eyjafjalla,” Suri’s voice turned serious, almost commanding, “what you need to think about now is not how to make money, not how to deal with the people at the banks and the tax office, not how to calculate how many coins you have left every day. Leave those to me.”

"What you need to think about is going to school on time tomorrow. Catching up on the lessons you've missed. Continuing your exploration of geology, volcanoes, and other subjects that have always interested you, using the books and notes your parents left you. Planning your future, what kind of person you want to become, what kind of things you want to do. Eating well, sleeping well, and taking good care of your health. You don't need to worry about money at all anymore."

Suri's words struck Eyjafjalla's heart like a hammer. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found her throat choked and her eyes burning. The boulder of "survival" that had long weighed on her heart seemed to have been gently moved away by an invisible hand. Although she knew things couldn't be that simple, and Suri certainly had his own difficulties and plans, this promise, this sense of responsibility of "leave it to me," suddenly shone a warm and resolute light into her cold and desperate world.

"I...can I really do it?" Eyjafjalla's voice choked with sobs, tears welling up uncontrollably. "I can...not worry about those bills anymore, not worry about the next meal, I can...can I go back to school?"

“Yes, you can.” Suri’s voice was gentle yet firm. “This isn’t charity, Eyjafjalla. This is… our agreement. I’m helping you solve your survival problem so you can have no worries. And what you need to do is live up to this ‘no worries,’ strive to grow, learn, and become a strong, independent person who can control their own destiny. That’s the best way to honor your parents, and… the best way to repay me.”

The best reward for me. What Suri didn't say was that seeing Eyjafjalla able to break free from economic shackles, focus on her beloved field, and grow up healthily was itself the best comfort and meaning for his existence as a "homeless consciousness." This was also a kind of "symbiosis"—he provided the guarantee of survival and a certain degree of knowledge guidance, while she provided him with an "anchor point" to observe and experience the world and indirectly participate in its operation.

Eyjafjalla forcefully wiped away her tears. Sadness still lingered in her pink eyes, but even more so, a ignited light of hope and determination shone through. She looked at the cold bills on the table, then at the simple ingredients in the kitchen, and finally, her gaze fell upon the heavy books on geology, volcanoes, and petrology left by her parents on the bookshelf in the corner.

“I understand, Su Rui.” She took a deep breath, her voice still trembling with tears, but unusually clear and firm. “I will study hard. I will catch up on the lessons I’ve missed. I will… eat well and take good care of myself. As for the money… I’ll leave it to you.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she uttered those last words. It was a completely new experience—entrusting her survival to a voice that existed in her mind, a voice without even a physical form. It required immense trust. But for some reason, she trusted Su Rui. From the way he helped her write her appeal letter, guided her through making phone calls, and planned every detail of her healthy diet, she could sense that this mysterious being was genuinely concerned for her and making plans for her.

“Very good.” There seemed to be a hint of relief in Su Rui’s voice. “Then, take out the carrots and eggs from the refrigerator. Tonight, I’ll teach you how to make a simple, healthy, and filling dinner. From today onwards, your task is to fill your stomach, and then, fill your mind.”

Eyjafjalla smiled through her tears and nodded vigorously. She walked to the refrigerator, took out the ingredients Suri had specified, and her heart was filled with an unprecedented mix of anticipation, warmth, and a strange sense of security.

As dusk settles over Cumberland County outside the window, the city lights begin to twinkle. The cold city lights still illuminate countless faces struggling to survive. But in this small apartment, once filled with despair, a pink-haired Caprini girl, under the guidance of an invisible "tenant" from afar, is clumsily but earnestly beginning to learn how to cook herself a truly healthy dinner.

Her future remains uncertain and full of challenges. The disappearance of her parents is a permanent pain in her heart, and the pressure of her studies and the complexities of society still exist. But at least, the heavy burden of "survival" that once almost crushed her has now been gently taken over by a firm voice.

All she needs to do is look forward and move upward.

The morning air was crisper than yesterday, carrying the distinctive smell of Cumberland County, a mixture of distant factory emissions and damp, cold fog. Eyjafjalla stood before the slightly peeling paint of her apartment door, took a deep breath, and pulled her backpack straps up a little higher. Inside were her textbooks and notes, which she had reorganized under Suri's "guidance" the previous night, and a simple whole-wheat pasta with vegetables packed in a food container (leftovers from last night; Suri had insisted she bring it instead of the cheap but sugary and oily school lunches).

Her heart was pounding. Not from nervousness, but from a strange mix of unfamiliarity and a faint sense of anticipation. She had been absent from school for almost two weeks. The disappearance of her parents, the financial burden, the endless fear and despair had made her almost forget her identity as a "student." But now, thanks to Suri's insistence and the promise of "financial security," she was back on the familiar road leading to the community high school.

The scenery along the street remained the same: gray buildings, hurried pedestrians, mostly expressionless, and the occasional public vehicle with Colombian signature rivets and steampile-style plumbing whizzing by. But unlike before, Eyjafjalla walked this street with a different mindset. She was no longer just a bewildered and helpless orphan crushed by immense misfortune; in her mind, a calm voice accompanied her, planned for her, and even… protected her.

Volume 19, Chapter 1279: Selling blood was almost a daily routine.

"Go to the right, Eyjafjalla, avoid that puddle." Suri's voice rang out at the right time, reminding her to watch out for the small puddles formed by the light rain last night.

Eyjafjalla obediently walked around it, but her gaze was unconsciously drawn to a scene not far ahead at the street corner.

It wasn't a shop or a train station, but a somewhat old-looking but strikingly white van, marked with a red cross and the words "Columbia United Medical - Paid Plasma Collection Point." The van's side door was open, revealing simple medical equipment and staff in white uniforms inside. But what truly caught the eye was the not-so-short, but unusually silent queue in front of the van.

The group included men and women, some middle-aged who looked quite old, and others with youthful faces, seemingly not much older than Eyjafjalla. Most were dressed simply, even somewhat tattered, and their faces bore signs of weariness, numbness, or an anxious eagerness to accomplish something. No one spoke; they simply waited silently, one by one, to board the white truck.

Eyjafjalla slowed her pace, her pink eyes filled with confusion and a barely perceptible... unease. She had seen blood donation vans before, and her school had organized charity events, but the atmosphere here was completely different from the blood donations she remembered from her student days, which were filled with a sense of pride and dedication. Here, there was only silence, only waiting, only a... almost tangible, heavy sense of oppression.

“Suri,” she couldn’t help but ask herself, her voice hesitant, “what are those people doing? Is that sign on the car a hospital? Why are so many people queuing?”

Suri's "consciousness" "saw" the scene through Eyjafjalla's eyes. A silent procession, white medical vehicles, and the prominent words "Paid Blood Plasma." In an instant, countless fragments of information about the socio-economic structure of this world (especially Colombia) and the living conditions of the lower classes, along with his impressions from Eyjafjalla's memories and observations over the past two days, were rapidly pieced together and analyzed.

“They’re selling blood, Eyjafjalla,” Suri’s voice rang out calmly, without any emotional fluctuation, simply stating a fact. “More accurately, they’re selling plasma. It’s a component of blood that can be used in pharmaceuticals or medicine. Columbia United Medical, which should be a commercial medical company, collects it for a fee, paying the providers a certain amount.”

"Sell...sell blood?" Eyjafjalla's voice was filled with disbelief. Selling blood? Exchanging what's inside their own bodies for money? In her naive worldview, this was an unimaginable, almost cruel act. "Why? Are they...so short of money that they have to sell their blood?"

Su Rui paused for a moment. He looked at a pale-faced boy in the line; the child looked malnourished, with vacant eyes, and was nervously rubbing the cuffs of his thin coat. Then he saw a middle-aged woman at the end of the line, holding a baby in her arms, while he himself was in this line waiting for a meager reward.

“Not everyone can support themselves and their families with a job, Eyjafjalla.” Suri’s voice remained calm, but beneath that calmness seemed to lie a certain insight into the cold rules of this society, even a very faint, almost sighing tone. “In Colombia, especially in a place like Cumberland County, for many people at the bottom of society, the income from a job may only be enough to pay the most basic rent, or barely make ends meet. Medical care, education, unexpected expenses… any extra trouble could plunge them into despair.”

He paused, then continued, as if giving Eyjafjalla a brief but brutal lesson in socioeconomics: "The people you see might be working more than twelve hours a day for meager hourly wages. They might be holding down two or three jobs just to barely keep their families afloat. They might not have stable employment contracts, no social insurance, and when they get sick, they can only tough it out. When they don't have money for the next meal, the next rent, or the urgent medical expenses for their children, selling their renewable blood plasma becomes a quick and relatively 'legal' way to get cash. Although that little bit of money might only be enough to tide them over for a short time, or even buy them a few days' worth of decent food."

Eyjafjalla listened blankly, her steps unconsciously halting. Her pink eyes stared unblinkingly at the silent queue. Suri's words were like a cold key, unlocking a door to a world she had never noticed before, or rather, a world she had never truly seen, protected by her parents.

Working two or three jobs a day? Barely making ends meet? Enduring illness with grit? Selling blood plasma to earn money for food?

These words and concepts formed a stark and cruel contrast with her memory of a home that, while not wealthy, was filled with the fragrance of books, warmth, and parental love, and with her school life where she only had to worry about homework and relationships with classmates. She may have heard words like "lower class" and "poverty" before in the news or in her parents' occasional sighs, but she had never seen them so directly and so closely embodied as a line of silent, weary people waiting in the cold wind to sell their blood plasma.

A wave of indescribable bitterness and pity washed over Eyjafjalla. She looked at the woman holding the baby in the line, at the pale-faced boy, and felt her eyes welling up again. She suddenly realized that the despair she had felt before because of her parents' disappearance and financial hardship, compared to these people's daily lives, seemed...not so unique after all. Perhaps she was even lucky? At least she still had this house that wouldn't be taken away for the time being (thanks to Suri's help), at least she still had the opportunity to continue her schooling, at least... she still had the mysterious Suri in her mind, promising to solve her financial problems.

"They... must be having a very hard time," Eyjafjalla said softly, her voice choked with emotion.

“Yes, it’s tough.” Suri didn’t deny it. “This is part of the world, Eyjafjallajökull. The other side of prosperity, technology, and mobile city-states. Not everyone can enjoy the kind of life depicted in Columbia’s brochures.”

Eyjafjalla fell silent. She watched the white van, watched the staff mechanically guide the line of people onto the vehicle, conduct checks, collect samples, and then get off expressionlessly, clutching a few thin banknotes, quickly disappearing at the end of the street as if they had never been there. The whole process was efficient and cold, like an invisible assembly line, squeezing the most precious fluids from these people's bodies and then paying them a paltry sum.

Volume 19, Chapter 1280: Eyjafjalla doesn't need to consider these things.

Eyjafjalla felt a chill rise from the soles of her feet. Not for those who sold their blood, but for this... society that could squeeze human survival to such an extent.

"Then... can we help them?" Eyjafjalla couldn't help but ask, with a hint of naive, almost instinctive kindness.

Suri fell silent again. This question was more complex than explaining why she sold her blood.

“With our current abilities,” Suri’s voice was objective and calm, even somewhat cruel, “we can’t. We’ve barely managed to stabilize ourselves. Any unrealistic goodwill could drag us back into the mire, or even attract unnecessary attention by exposing our abnormality. That would harm you and make all my previous efforts go to waste.”

He paused, his voice softening slightly: "But that doesn't mean we can't do something in the future. The premise is that you must first become strong yourself. Strong enough to protect yourself, have the capacity to help others, and know how to help in a truly effective way, rather than simply giving away a paltry sum of money that might even create dependency and more problems."

“Powerful…” Eyjafjalla murmured, repeating the word.

“Yes, powerful.” Suri’s voice became serious and guiding. “Knowledge is power, professional skills are power, a clear mind and independent judgment are power, and even a healthy body is power. What you need to do now is not to indulge in sympathy and helplessness for the suffering of others—that kind of emotion does nothing but drain your energy and make you feel pain and guilt.”

"What you need to do now is to focus all your attention on yourself. Focus on the lessons you have to take today and the knowledge you need to learn. Focus on how to make good use of this hard-won time of 'not having to worry about survival' that I have secured for you, to enrich yourself and equip yourself."

Suri's words, like a wake-up call, jolted Eyjafjalla from the overflowing, useless pity within her. Yes, there was nothing she could do now. Besides watching and feeling the pain, she couldn't change anything. Rather than empathizing with her suffering here, she should transform that emotion into motivation to become stronger as quickly as possible.

“I understand, Suri.” Eyjafjalla nodded vigorously, took a deep breath, and shifted her gaze from the heartbreaking queue back to the road leading to the school. “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

She started walking, no longer lingering. But the image of that silent line, those weary and numb faces, and Suri's words about "working three jobs a day" and "selling blood plasma" were branded into her heart like a mark. This was no longer a distant concept from books, but a cold and real side of Colombia that she had seen and heard with her own eyes and ears.

“Very good.” Suri’s voice carried a hint of approval. “Remember what you see, but don’t let it overwhelm you. Use it as one of your motivations. Now, quicken your pace, turn the corner and walk straight for 300 meters, and you’ll be at your school. Pay attention to the road signs.”

Eyjafjalla did as she was told and quickened her pace. The scenery on both sides of the street rushed past, and the sight of the blood-selling van was left behind, but the heavy feeling remained in her heart.

When she finally saw the familiar, slightly old-fashioned community high school building, a complex mix of emotions welled up inside her. Once, this was a temple of knowledge, and also her little social world. Now, it felt more like a task she had to conquer, a ladder to "power."

She straightened her clothes and hair, took a deep breath, and pushed open the somewhat heavy iron gate of the school.

The familiar school bell echoed down the corridor as students in their uniforms hurried to their classrooms, their voices filled with noise and laughter. Everything seemed the same as before, yet also completely different.

Eyjafjalla walked quickly toward her classroom, head down. She could feel the curious, sympathetic, or indifferent glances from her classmates. Her parents' disappearance was no secret in the community, and her prolonged absences from school had attracted attention. But she had no time to think about any of that now. Suri's words echoed in her mind: Focus your attention on your studies.

She found her seat, put down her bag, and took out her textbook. When the bell rang and the teacher walked to the podium, Eyjafjalla straightened her back. For the first time, after experiencing so many changes, her pink eyes rekindled a pure thirst for knowledge, and a more serene and determined light.

Suri's "consciousness," like the most silent guardian, quietly hovered deep within her consciousness. He could "sense" the fluctuations in Eyjafjalla's emotions, and "perceive" how she had transformed the impact of the blood-selling convoy into a more focused motivation for learning. This gave him a sense of satisfaction.

Helping her solve her financial problems is only the first step. Guiding her to establish correct understanding and cultivating a resilient character are the longer-term challenges. And the school, with its relatively simple (though not without its complexities) environment, is the best place for her to grow at this stage.

Outside the window, the morning mist in Cumberland County was gradually dissipating, revealing a gray sky. The sound of students reading aloud from the school and the silent line in front of the white ambulance a few streets away seemed to exist in two parallel worlds.

But Eyjafjalla knew they were all real. And she would carry this glimpse of another, cold face of the world, and strive to earn a different, powerful future for herself in this seemingly ordinary school.

Because of Suri, at least she doesn't have to worry about her next meal, the next bill, or that dreaded Columbia student loan. This is a luxury that many people, including those who were just selling their blood, dream of.

She must cherish it. And she must become strong enough. Strong enough that one day, perhaps, she too can do something to change that silent group.

Even if it was just a distant and vague idea, what she needed to do now was to understand the algebra lesson in front of her.

The scratching of chalk across the blackboard, the teacher's voice explaining complex function graphs, the occasional faint noise from outside the window—all these sounds intertwined to create the familiar yet unfamiliar background noise of Eyjafjalla's school. She sat by the window, her pink eyes glued to the formula derivations on the blackboard, her pen scribbling down key steps in her notebook.