Step Leak

The night was deep, and the neon lights of Paris streets flickered like blurred eyes. Jean-Pierre sat by the window of a café, his coffee had long gone cold. He stared at his phone screen, where the words “Step synchronization failed” were displayed, a red exclamation mark mocking his efforts.

He wasn't an ordinary French soldier; he was a navigator on the nuclear submarine "Le Triomphant." His daily steps, which might just be a number for others, were related to national security for him. Or so he originally thought.

It all started three months ago. To encourage soldiers to exercise, the higher-ups mandated that all officers and soldiers install a step counter app called "Health Guardian." This app, developed by an unknown tech company, claimed to synchronize steps in real-time and generate personalized health reports. At first, the soldiers found it novel, and many posted their step counts on social media.

Jean-Pierre had also enjoyed it. Every morning, he would run laps around the submarine, and then excitedly check the data on the app. Gradually, he started to feel something was off. His step count seemed different from others. He noticed that his steps would increase unusually whenever he passed through the core areas of the submarine.

Initially, he thought it was an app bug, until one day his superior called him into his office. The superior's face was livid, and the report in his hand clearly showed Jean-Pierre's daily movement track inside the nuclear submarine, along with the specific locations corresponding to his steps.

"You little rascal, you've leaked our submarine's secrets!" His superior roared.

Jean-Pierre was completely dumbfounded. He had never thought that just walking a few steps could leak national secrets. Later, after investigation, they found that the “Health Guardian” app's servers were located overseas, and they also discovered an even more absurd truth:

This tech company wasn’t collecting “step count” data at all; they were actually collecting data from the phone's built-in gyroscope and accelerometer, and then using algorithms to derive the user's relative position. Their real purpose was to map global indoor locations for future commercial use.

The nuclear submarine where Jean-Pierre was stationed was just one of the many "landmarks" they were mapping.

He became the "leaking soldier" in the French media, and overnight, he went from an unknown navigator to the biggest "joke" in France.

Outside the café, rain pattered down, like endless sighs. Jean-Pierre looked up and saw a news report on the café’s TV: a large commercial supermarket chain had announced a partnership with the "Health Guardian" app to launch an "in-store treasure hunt" event. Users only needed to download the app to find hidden coupons in the supermarket.

Jean-Pierre gave a wry smile. He suddenly remembered that three months ago, he was still striving for the “Health Guardian” app’s step competition on the submarine. To take a few extra steps, he would deliberately take detours to the dining hall, hoping every day that he would win the title of “fitness enthusiast.”

Looking back now, he felt like he was a puppet on a string, both laughable and pathetic.

He picked up his phone and tried to sync his steps again. This time, however, the app showed "server maintenance." Jean-Pierre was stunned. He vaguely felt that something was more worthy of his attention than the secrets of a nuclear submarine.

He opened the official website of "Health Guardian" and found a small icon in the upper right corner of the page, resembling an exquisite maze, or a miniature submarine.

Jean-Pierre stared at that icon for a long time, then clicked on it. A line of small text appeared on the page: Welcome to the "Human Maze" game. Every step you take will reveal unknown secrets.

Jean-Pierre felt a shiver run down his spine. He suddenly realized that his steps were much more valuable than he imagined. He had been dragged into an absurd farce, and the curtain of this farce had just begun to rise.

He looked up, the rain outside the window had stopped, and a faint moon hung in the sky, like a cold laugh, or a sigh.