我的征尘是星辰大海。。。
The dirt and dust from my pilgrimage forms oceans of stars...
-------当记忆的篇章变得零碎，当追忆的图片变得模糊，我们只能求助于数字存储的永恒的回忆
作者:黄教授
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元界管理员4
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原始脚本
原界管理员第四章张磊从总部回来时，脸色比去的时候沉了不少。 进门就把公文包往桌上一扔，抓起陆羽的搪瓷杯灌了口凉白开。 张磊说，董事会快炸锅了，星穹的实时交互功能，这半个月已经挖走咱们5个大客户。 陆羽停下手里的时间压缩测试，抬头看他。 那功能具体是怎么弄的？张磊回答，就是能让不同虚拟机实力的数字生命直接见面聊天。 张磊揉着眉心，语气里满是焦虑。 比如客户 A 的数字生命，能在星穹的虚拟广场里碰到客户 B 的数字生命，还能一起下棋散步。 而且他们解决了 NPC 一致性的问题。 要是两个数字生命都认识老张。 那不管在谁的实力里，老张的状态都是统一的，不会出现 A 说老张在住院，B 说老张在遛弯的矛盾。 陆羽皱了皱眉，他太清楚这背后的技术量，要实现实时交互，得搭建多实力同步集群。 让不同虚拟机的时间线数据实时互通，还要建一个统一人物信息库，把所有数字生命的亲友 NPC 数据整合起来。 这至少需要一个5人开发组，花3个月才能打好基础框架。 董事会怎么说？陆羽问。 还能怎么说？要么一个月内搞出同类功能，要么就等着被星穹压垮。 张磊叹了口气，从公文包里掏出份文件，不过我把你的时间压缩方案报上去了。 董事长还挺感兴趣，说要是能降七成成本，就算暂时赶不上交互功能，也能撑一阵。 他让咱们先把沉默的试点落地，一周内出效果报告，再决定后续要不要扩大范围。 陆羽拿起文件，上面用红笔圈着成本优化优先及高于交互功能，心里稍微松了点。 沉默的时间压缩配置我已经测好了，今晚趁他休眠，把压缩模块嵌进实力就行，明天就能看到运行数据。 那就好，张磊的脸色缓和了些，又想起什么补充道，对了。 法务那边还特意叮嘱，就算试点成功，也不能大规模推广到家属按月续费的客户。 那些家属每周都要跟数字生命视频，要是发现数字生命的虚拟机实力时间播快了，自己这里还是中午，而数字生命已经快进到傍晚了，肯定得闹到监管局去。 陆羽点头，我明白，到时候筛选名单的时候，会把家属关联度大于0的全排除掉。 他顿了顿，还是没提自己私下开发的时间机器，现在说这个太早，万一董事会真要硬上实时交互，这工具或许能当个备选方案。 但眼下最重要的是先把时间压缩试点做好，稳住成本再说。 张磊又坐了会，聊了些总部的琐事，起身要走时突然回头。 老路，要是，我是说要是，董事会真要咱们做实时交互，你一个人能扛下来吗？陆羽看着屏幕上沉默的实力日志，沉默了几秒。 难，多实力同步和统一信息库不是一个人能搞定的，至少得加两个人手，还得给我至少两个月时间。 张磊没说话，只是拍了拍他的肩膀，转身走了。 运维室里又恢复了安静，只有主机的低鸣在空气里飘着。 陆羽点开星穹的官网，首页上醒目的数字生命实时社交广告跳了出来。 两个数字生命在虚拟公园里散步，画面旁边写着，让永生不再孤单。 他关掉网页，重新看向沉默的实力界面。 老人已经进入休眠状态，屏幕上的虚拟书房一片漆黑，只有桌上的台灯还亮着微弱的光。 陆羽深吸一口气，点开时间压缩的部署脚本，按下了运行键。 屏幕上的进度条缓缓跳动，像是在为元界这场未知的应对按下了倒计时的开始键。
修正脚本
元界管理员第四章张磊从总部回来时，脸色比去的时候沉了不少。 进门就把公文包往桌上一扔，抓起陆羽的搪瓷杯灌了口凉白开。 张磊说，董事会快炸锅了，星穹的实时交互功能，这半个月已经挖走咱们5个大客户。 陆羽停下手里的时间压缩测试，抬头看他。 那功能具体是怎么弄的？张磊回答，就是能让不同虚拟机世界的数字生命直接见面聊天。 张磊揉着眉心，语气里满是焦虑。 比如客户 A 的数字生命，能在星穹的虚拟广场里碰到客户 B 的数字生命，还能一起下棋散步。 而且他们解决了 NPC 一致性的问题。 要是两个数字生命都认识老张。 那不管在谁的世界里，老张的状态都是统一的，不会出现 A 说老张在住院，B 说老张在遛弯的矛盾。 陆羽皱了皱眉，他太清楚这背后的技术量，要实现实时交互，得搭建多世界同步集群。 让不同虚拟机的时间线数据实时互通，还要建一个统一人物信息库，把所有数字生命的亲友 NPC 数据整合起来。 这至少需要一个5人开发组，花3个月才能打好基础框架。 董事会怎么说？陆羽问。 还能怎么说？要么一个月内搞出同类功能，要么就等着被星穹压垮。 张磊叹了口气，从公文包里掏出份文件，不过我把你的时间压缩方案报上去了。 董事长还挺感兴趣，说要是能降七成成本，就算暂时赶不上交互功能，也能撑一阵。 他让咱们先把陈默的试点落地，一周内出效果报告，再决定后续要不要扩大范围。 陆羽拿起文件，上面用红笔圈着成本优化优先级高于交互功能，心里稍微松了点。 陈默的时间压缩配置我已经测好了，今晚趁他休眠，把压缩模块嵌进世界就行，明天就能看到运行数据。 那就好，张磊的脸色缓和了些，又想起什么补充道，对了。 法务那边还特意叮嘱，就算试点成功，也不能大规模推广到家属按月续费的客户。 那些家属每周都要跟数字生命视频，要是发现数字生命的虚拟机世界时间播快了，自己这里还是中午，而数字生命已经快进到傍晚了，肯定得闹到监管局去。 陆羽点头，我明白，到时候筛选名单的时候，会把家属关联度大于0的全排除掉。 他顿了顿，还是没提自己私下开发的时间机器，现在说这个太早，万一董事会真要硬上实时交互，这工具或许能当个备选方案。 但眼下最重要的是先把时间压缩试点做好，稳住成本再说。 张磊又坐了会，聊了些总部的琐事，起身要走时突然回头。 老路，要是，我是说要是，董事会真要咱们做实时交互，你一个人能扛下来吗？陆羽看着屏幕上陈默的世界日志，沉默了几秒。 难，多世界同步和统一信息库不是一个人能搞定的，至少得加两个人手，还得给我至少两个月时间。 张磊没说话，只是拍了拍他的肩膀，转身走了。 运维室里又恢复了安静，只有主机的低鸣在空气里飘着。 陆羽点开星穹的官网，首页上醒目的数字生命实时社交广告跳了出来。 两个数字生命在虚拟公园里散步，画面旁边写着，让永生不再孤单。 他关掉网页，重新看向陈默的世界界面。 老人已经进入休眠状态，屏幕上的虚拟书房一片漆黑，只有桌上的台灯还亮着微弱的光。 陆羽深吸一口气，点开时间压缩的部署脚本，按下了运行键。 屏幕上的进度条缓缓跳动，像是在为元界这场未知的应对按下了倒计时的开始键。
英文翻译
Chapter 4 of The Metaverse Administrator When Zhang Lei returned from headquarters, his expression was noticeably darker than when he left. He tossed his briefcase onto the desk as soon as he walked in, grabbed Lu Yu’s enamel cup, and gulped down some cold boiled water. Zhang Lei said the board was about to explode—StarVault’s real-time interaction feature had already poached five of their major clients in the past two weeks. Lu Yu paused the time compression test he was running and looked up at him. “How exactly does that feature work?” Zhang Lei replied, “It basically lets digital beings from different virtual worlds meet and chat face-to-face.” He rubbed his forehead, his voice thick with anxiety. “For example, Client A’s digital being can run into Client B’s digital being in StarVault’s virtual plaza, and they can play chess or take a walk together.” “And they’ve solved the NPC consistency problem.” “If both digital beings know Old Zhang, then no matter which world they’re in, Old Zhang’s state is unified. There’s no contradiction like A saying Old Zhang is in the hospital while B says he’s out for a stroll.” Lu Yu frowned. He knew all too well the technical difficulty behind this. To achieve real-time interaction, you’d need to build a multi-world synchronization cluster— —to make timeline data from different virtual machines communicate in real time, plus a unified character database that integrates all the NPC data of relatives and friends for every digital being. That would require at least a five-person development team working three months just to set up the basic framework. “What did the board say?” Lu Yu asked. “What could they say? Either we roll out a similar feature within a month, or we get crushed by StarVault.” Zhang Lei sighed, pulled a document from his briefcase, and added, “But I submitted your time compression proposal.” “The chairman was actually interested. He said if we can cut costs by 70%, even if we can’t catch up to the interaction feature for now, it would buy us some time.” “He wants us to first implement Chen Mo’s pilot project, deliver a results report within a week, and then decide whether to expand.” Lu Yu picked up the document. A red circle marked “Cost optimization priority over interaction feature.” He felt a slight relief inside. “I’ve already configured Chen Mo’s time compression settings. Tonight, while he’s in hibernation, I’ll embed the compression module into his world. We should see operational data by tomorrow.” “Good.” Zhang Lei’s expression softened a bit. Then, as if remembering something, he added, “Oh, by the way.” “Legal specifically reminded me: even if the pilot succeeds, we can’t roll it out on a large scale to clients whose family members pay monthly renewals.” “Those families video-call their digital beings every week. If they notice the digital being’s virtual world time has sped up—that it’s still noon on their end but already evening for the digital being—they’ll definitely complain to the regulatory agency.” Lu Yu nodded. “I understand. When we screen the list, I’ll exclude anyone with a family connection coefficient greater than zero.” He paused but didn’t mention the time machine he’d been developing privately. It was too early to bring that up. If the board really insisted on real-time interaction, that tool might serve as a backup plan. But for now, the priority was to make the time compression pilot work and stabilize costs. Zhang Lei stayed a while longer, chatting about trivialities from headquarters. As he got up to leave, he suddenly turned back. “Old Lu, if—and I mean if—the board really pushes us to build real-time interaction, can you handle it alone?” Lu Yu stared at Chen Mo’s world log on the screen, silent for a few seconds. “Hard. Multi-world synchronization and a unified database can’t be done by one person. I’d need at least two more people, and give me at least two months.” Zhang Lei said nothing, just patted him on the shoulder and walked away. The operations room fell quiet again, save for the low hum of the mainframe floating in the air. Lu Yu opened StarVault’s official website. A prominent banner popped up: “Real-Time Social for Digital Beings.” Two digital beings were strolling through a virtual park. Next to the image, the caption read: “Make immortality no longer lonely.” He closed the webpage and turned back to Chen Mo’s world interface. The elderly man had already entered hibernation. The virtual study on screen was pitch black, except for the faint glow of a desk lamp. Lu Yu took a deep breath, opened the deployment script for time compression, and hit run. The progress bar on the screen began to creep forward, as if pressing the start button on a countdown for the Metaverse’s uncertain response.
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