Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 80

The night wore on, thick and heavy, and the mood inside the campervan matched it perfectly. The cold blast from the AC did nothing to cool the storm of emotions swirling in Karl’s head. Valencia, lounging in her seat like she owned the world, seemed to be enjoying every second of the tension. Her calm, almost predatory gaze never left him. Meanwhile, Karl’s mind raced, torn between moral dilemmas and the relentless weight of the system he was up against. It felt like walking a razor’s edge, every step more precarious than the last.

The campervan hummed softly as it rolled down an empty road lit by flickering streetlights. Shadows danced across the interior, giving the space an almost eerie feel. Layla sat in the back, as silent as a ghost. She hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours, but Karl knew better than to think she wasn’t paying attention. Layla was always listening. She was the kind of presence that lingered, even when unnoticed.

---

[ Quest Reminder ]

[ Keep your emotions in check. Focus on the main goal. ]

---

Karl closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. The words flashed in his mind like a neon sign, relentless and impossible to ignore. He knew what they meant—what they demanded of him. There was no room for distraction, no space for emotional outbursts. But Valencia? She was making it damn near impossible to stay focused.

"Karl," her voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and deliberate. "What’s the plan when we get to Unrill? I mean, surely you’ve got some grand strategy, right?" Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was an edge to it, a subtle challenge. Her gaze slid sideways to him, her lips curving into that infuriatingly knowing smirk.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound neutral. "First step? Find Zoey. She’s tied to all of this. Layla’s situation, the mess we’re in... she’s involved."

Valencia leaned back, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Zoey, huh?" She let the name hang in the air before sighing, her expression shifting to one of faint disappointment. "Well, I guess that’s something."

Karl’s jaw tightened as his grip on the steering wheel hardened. "I never thought my life would end up like this—caught in the middle of some massive conspiracy. An online platform turning people into mindless sheep. It’s disgusting. Especially when it’s kids who end up suffering the most."

Valencia chuckled softly, her laugh dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, Karl. That’s noble of you, really. But maybe you should save some of that pity for yourself."

Her words hit like a slap, and Karl whipped his head toward her, his eyes narrowing. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice sharp despite his attempt to keep it steady.

She shrugged, her smirk growing. "What do you think it means? You don’t see it, do you? This mess you’re in—it’s not just bad luck or the system screwing you over. It’s you, Karl. You never stop to think. You act on impulse, every time."

Karl’s lips parted, ready to argue, but no words came. Her accusation stung because, deep down, he knew she was right.

"From the very beginning," she continued, her tone calm but cutting, "you’ve been playing with fire. You thought you had it all under control, but look at you now. Stuck. And why? Because you couldn’t stop chasing quick fixes, easy thrills."

A flare of anger rose in Karl’s chest, but he forced it down. He turned his focus back to the road, jaw tight. Her words echoed in his mind, refusing to be ignored. She wasn’t wrong. Every decision he’d made, every action he’d taken, had been reactive. He’d always believed he was solving problems, but in reality, he’d been creating more.

Then a memory surfaced, unbidden: Glowsphere. The platform. Back when his life had been ordinary, Karl had been glued to it—mindlessly scrolling for hours, liking, sharing, commenting. It had felt harmless at the time, a distraction from the grind. But now, with the benefit of hindsight, he could see it for what it truly was.

A weapon.

Karl exhaled slowly, the weight of the realization pressing down on him. "Valencia," he said suddenly, his voice sharper than before. "You’re right."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting his agreement. "About what?"

He turned to her, guilt and regret etched into his features. "About me. I’ve been impulsive. Stupid. I thought I was in control, but the truth is, I’ve been a puppet this whole time. Glowsphere—it got into my head. It shaped how I thought, how I acted, and I didn’t even see it happening."

For a moment, Valencia said nothing. Her smirk faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. "Well," she said finally, her voice quieter than before, "at least you’re not completely blind anymore."

From the back, Layla finally spoke, her voice breaking the tension. "You’re talking about Glowsphere? That’s what’s been messing with you?" She sounded skeptical but curious.

Karl nodded, his expression grim. "I used to spend hours on it. Thought it was just harmless fun. But it started creeping into everything I did—how I made decisions, how I thought. I didn’t even realize how deep it had gotten."

Valencia leaned back, letting out a slow, deliberate sigh. "That’s the problem with Glowsphere. Everyone thinks they’re using it, but really? It’s using them. You’re just one of millions, Karl."

He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. It all made sense now. He’d been so quick to blame everyone else for the chaos around him—the viral videos, Julia’s ruined reputation, his own reckless decisions. But in truth, he’d been part of the problem all along.

Valencia’s voice softened, losing some of its usual sharpness. "The first step, Karl, is realizing you can’t trust your own mind. Not yet, anyway. Glowsphere’s rewired it—made you impulsive, addicted to shortcuts, blind to consequences."

Karl met her gaze, sensing a rare sincerity in her words. "And the second step?"

A small smile tugged at her lips—this one devoid of mockery. "You’ve already started."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You’re off Glowsphere, aren’t you? No phone, no scrolling. That’s step one."

Karl paused, her words sinking in. She was right. He hadn’t touched Glowsphere—or any screen, for that matter—in days. At first, it had been jarring, like losing a limb. But slowly, clarity had started to seep in, though it brought its own discomfort: the weight of his past mistakes.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Maybe that’s the first step. But it doesn’t feel like enough."

Valencia shook her head. "It’s not. Cutting off the noise is just the beginning. Fixing how you think? That’s the real challenge."

She tilted her head, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "By the way, where’s your phone? Didn’t you say you were practically glued to Glowsphere?"

The question made Karl freeze. Memories stirred—hazy, disjointed. "I... I think I lost it," he said slowly. "Haven’t seen it since—" His voice faltered as the realization hit. "Since John kidnapped me."

Valencia’s brow arched, her smirk returning. "Figures. Who knows what that creep’s done with it?"

Layla leaned forward, her tone firm. "If John has your phone, that’s bad. All your data, your habits on Glowsphere... They could use it against you."

Karl ran a hand down his face, the weight of the situation sinking in. "I didn’t even think about that. If they crack into it, they’ll have everything."

"And we both know you’re not exactly Mr. Privacy," Valencia quipped, her teasing laced with truth.

---

Elsewhere.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint blue glow of a computer screen. Chloe’s fingers moved like lightning over the keyboard, her focus unyielding. Amber sat nearby, arms crossed, her gaze locked on her sister.

"Got it yet?" Amber asked, impatience bleeding into her voice.

"Almost," Chloe replied without looking up. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen as layers of encryption unraveled. "This isn’t exactly high-security."

John stood in the corner, his presence imposing despite his silence. "Hurry," he said, his tone low and even. "We don’t have time."

Chloe smirked but didn’t argue. "Relax. I’m almost there."

With a final click, Karl’s phone unlocked, its data displayed in full.

"We’re in," Chloe said, satisfaction dripping from her voice.

Amber leaned closer, her eyes scanning the screen. "What’s there?"

Chloe opened Glowsphere and froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh my god. Look at this."

Amber frowned, leaning in. On the screen was Karl’s usage data—hours upon hours logged every day. Some days, more than ten.

"Wow," Chloe muttered. "This guy never logged off—this is full-blown addiction. His brain’s completely programmed. Every notification, every post—it’s like he’s on autopilot. No thought, no control."

Amber’s jaw tightened as she scanned the numbers. "Is this normal?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Normal?" Chloe snorted, her eyes narrowing. "Not even close. This is straight-up addiction. He’s not just using it—Glowsphere’s using him. It’s a feedback loop, a constant cycle of stimulation, like a drug. It’s no wonder he’s so messed up."

John, who had been silently observing, finally stepped forward. His face was impassive, his cold, analytical gaze fixed on the data before him. Unlike Chloe and Amber, there was no shock or disbelief on his face—just resignation.

"All this proves one thing," he said quietly, his voice lacking any emotion. "Karl isn’t dangerous because of his powers. He’s dangerous because Glowsphere has made him weak."

Chloe looked up at him, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

John’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward the window, his back now to the others. "He’s not thinking for himself anymore. Every action, every decision—it’s all programmed by Glowsphere. His impulses, his reactions—they’re automatic. And that makes him unpredictable. Weak."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of an uncomfortable truth. The room fell silent as the implications settled in. Chloe’s mind raced. What did this mean for them? For Karl? For the plan?

"This is all their fault," John murmured, more to himself than anyone else.