Lin scrolled through his phone screen quickly, but his brow furrowed involuntarily.
The "Uber Eat" and "DoorDash" apps he used regularly were now nowhere to be found.
"Strange."
Lin muttered to himself, opened his phone's built-in app store, typed "DoorDash" into the search bar, and hit enter.
After spinning for a few seconds, the search results page only showed a single, lonely app icon: 13Seconds.
That's not right.
The icon was poorly designed, looking like an amateur's work.
The app description was just a single line: "Delivered in 13 seconds, refund if late."
Below it, there was a line of fine print: "$10 delivery fee per order, price is firm."
Lin was taken aback.
$10 delivery fee? Was this a robbery?
When he usually ordered takeout, the delivery fee was just a few bucks, sometimes even free!
Just then, the sound of water came from the bathroom;
His wife,Susan was washing her hands.
Lin raised his voice, "Susan, is DoorDash still on your phone?"
"What?" The sound of water stopped for a moment, Susan's voice came through the door, "DoorDash? It must be, I used it at noon today. Why?"
"It's gone from my phone," Lin said. "There's only one called '13Seconds' left in the app store, and the delivery fee is actually $10."
Susan poked her head out of the bathroom, her hands still dripping.
She shook them off, wiped them on her apron, walked over, and picked up Lin's phone to look.
"Really? Did you accidentally delete it?"
"Impossible, absolutely impossible! I would never delete a commonly used app like that."
Lin took the phone back and checked again.
"Even if I did delete it, the original version should be available for re-download in the app store. Now there's only this one."
Susan leaned in for a closer look at that icon and curled her lip.
What kind of pirated software was this? And a $10 delivery fee? Who would use that? "Hurry up and use my phone to order, I'm starving! Honey, I want a sandwich, from Chick-fil-A ."
Lin nodded, was about to take Susan's phone, but then stopped.
He stared at the bright red icon on his own screen, and a certain curiosity belonging to an IT professional was piqued again.
Delivered in 13 seconds? How is that possible.
Even if the restaurant was downstairs, it would take more than 13 seconds to pack it up and bring it up.
This advertisement was absurdly ridiculous, yet it appeared brazenly in the official app store, and had even replaced all the mainstream food delivery platforms.
"Wait," he said. "I'm going to download it and check it out."
"Are you crazy? The delivery fee is $10!" Susan stared wide-eyed.
"Just try it once." Lin had already pressed the download button.
"Let's see what it's really about. If it's a scam, heh, trust your invincible husband to root out the swindlers!"
The app downloaded quickly, finishing almost instantly.
Lin clicked the icon, the interface popped up—clean to the point of being stark.
Pure white background, a search bar at the top, an empty order list in the middle, and only a few buttons at the bottom: "Order," "History," and "Profile."
No list of merchants, no promotional ads, no user reviews, nothing.
Haha, no annoying ads, that was considerate.
He typed "sandwich" into the search bar and hit enter. The page immediately jumped, directly displaying a product option: "Sandwich Combo," priced at $4.
Surprisingly, the store was exactly the one Lin often ordered from.
Below the price was another line of small grey text: "Additional $10 delivery fee."
Ten bucks delivery fee per order, indeed.
But remembering the line about "delivered in 13 seconds, refund if late," Lin, being a programmer, suddenly became interested.
He gritted his teeth and clicked "Place Order."
The payment page popped up, only supporting mobile payment.
He hesitated for two seconds, then confirmed the payment with his fingerprint.
$10, just treat it as paying for curiosity, he thought.
If it didn't arrive or the thing delivered was wrong, he would immediately use his computer to dissect the software.
He didn't believe, with his skills, he couldn't parse the source code, then he'd file complaints, complaining to both the app store and the consumer association.
Sue them until they were broke! How dare they scam people.
Just as the payment success prompt appeared, the phone interface jumped back to the order list. A new order appeared at the top, the status显示: "Delivering."
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Lin glanced at the time: 7:03 PM.
13 seconds later...
"Ding-dong—"
After a moment of silence, the doorbell rang.
The crisp sound exploded in the quiet living room.
Lin froze completely.
He stared at his phone screen, then jerked his head up to look at the door.
From placing the order successfully to the doorbell ringing, it was indeed only 13 seconds.
"This... how is this possible?" Lin murmured.
He felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Even if the restaurant owner was waiting at his doorstep ready to take the order, it couldn't be this fast.
What about packing? What about preparation? Could someone have predicted he would order a sandwich, prepared it in advance, and waited outside?
The doorbell rang again.
Lin stood up and walked to the entrance.
Looking through the peephole, the hallway outside was pitch black.
The motion-sensor light hadn't turned on.
That wasn't right. Normally, as soon as someone passed by, the sound-activated light in the hallway would automatically light up. He looked more carefully and vaguely saw a red figure standing outside the door.
He opened the door.
The light from the living room spilled out from behind Lin, barely illuminating a small area near the doorway.
A young girl in a red vest stood there, holding a plastic bag.
The girl had a standard pretty face, fair skin, delicate features. But her expression was completely blank, her eyes staring straight ahead, her gaze terrifyingly empty. Her jet-black hair spread over her shoulders, looking somewhat unreal in the dim light.
She wore a striking red vest, with no logo or writing on it—just pure red.
The girl raised her hand and offered the plastic bag.
Her movements were very stiff, her joints turning like a robot's.
"Thanks," Lin said instinctively. "Um... how did it get here so fast?"
The girl just mechanically recited a line, "Sorry to keep you waiting, your order has arrived."
Lin asked again, "Which store are you from? Is it nearby?"
Silence.
The girl suddenly moved. She withdrew her hand, turned, and walked along the corridor towards the stairwell.
Her footsteps were very light, almost silent.
The figure in the red vest soon disappeared into the darkness at the end of the corridor, vanished.
The motion-sensor light never came on.
Lin stood at the door, holding the plastic bag, staring at the empty, dark hallway.
He stood there for several seconds before closing the door, locking it, and sliding the security chain into place.
"What's wrong?" Susan came over, took the bag, and looked inside. "It really is a sandwich? That was way too fast!"
Lin didn't speak.
He walked to the window, pulled the curtain back slightly from the third floor, and looked down at the street.
The streetlights were normal, traffic flowed, pedestrians moved. Everything was as usual. He didn't see the girl in the red vest, nor any suspected delivery scooter.
"That delivery person just now," Lin said, "was actually quite pretty, but her expression was strange, like she hadn't woken up."
"Never mind her.Probably new to the delivery job, hey, the economy is bad now... Whatever, let's eat, I'm starving."Susan said.
The sandwich in the container was steaming, the aroma delicious. It looked no different from the usual order, maybe even a bit more generous. Lin picked up his share and put a piece of chicken in his mouth.
Mm, the taste was normal, exactly like that restaurant.
But a sandwich with a $10 delivery fee.
Lin put down his chopsticks, picked up his phone, and reopened the "13Seconds" app. That record was still in the order list, the status now changed to "Completed." He clicked into the order details, hoping to see merchant information.
The page showed the merchant name: "Sandwich (Chick-fil-A)," address: 50 E 42nd St, New York.
It was at least four kilometers away from their place; driving without traffic would take at least ten minutes.
"What are you looking at?" Susan asked. "Eat up, it's getting cold."
Lin put down his phone, picked up his chopsticks again, but most of his appetite was gone.
He ate the sandwich mechanically, but his mind was full of the empty look in the red-vested girl's eyes, the abnormal darkness in the hallway, and the unbelievable 13-second delivery.
After dinner, Lin sat on the sofa and opened "13Seconds" again.
He scrolled through the stark interface, trying to find more information.
The app settings had nothing—no customer service number, no about us, no terms of use.
It was like a black hole that had materialized out of thin air, swallowed all the regular food delivery apps, and then occupied their spot.
He tried searching for other foods in the search bar: "beef burger," "pizza," "salad."
Each time, the search jumped directly to stores he often ordered from. Although the prices varied, the delivery fee was always $10.
Either accept the price and order, or don't use it.
So overbearing?
He exited the app and tried searching for keywords like "DoorDash" in the app store again. But still, only "13Seconds" appeared.
Those mainstream apps with millions of downloads were all gone.
As if they had never existed.
Lin felt a shiver run up his spine.
This wasn't a simple app malfunction or hacker attack.
It was too thorough, too bizarre. How could one app replace all its competitors overnight and make the originals completely unfindable in the app store?
Not to mention the delivery speed that defied the laws of physics, and the delivery girl with eyes as empty as a puppet's.
Seeing Lin staring at his phone all night, Susan said, "Still thinking about that food delivery app? Forget it, just consider it a loss and don't use it anymore. What a waste."
"It's not about the money," Lin said. "Don't you think it's strange? Delivered in 13 seconds, and that delivery girl was off too."
"What's so strange about it? Maybe they're just efficient." Susan was unimpressed. "Nowadays, things like unmanned delivery and AI food delivery are quite popular, right? Maybe it's a test product from some high-tech company."
"That's too high-tech," Lin shook his head. "And all the other food apps disappearing from the store isn't normal either."
"Maybe it's a system bug; it'll be fine tomorrow." Susan yawned. "I'm so tired today. The old man was going on and on about his ex-wife again, saying my hair curls just like hers, saying the curve of my smile when I laugh is the same. So annoying. I am me, who cares who I look like."
Muttering complaints, she headed towards the bathroom. Soon, the bathroom door closed, and the sound of water started.
Lin looked at his phone screen again. The "13Seconds" icon on his desktop was glaringly eye-catching. He long-pressed the icon, wanting to uninstall it.
A prompt popped up on the phone: "Uninstalling will result in the inability to use hyper-spatial delivery service. Confirm?"
Hyper-spatial delivery service?
Lin stared at the line of text. The app description earlier did say "Delivered in 13 seconds," so it actually meant "hyper-spatial delivery"?
He immediately canceled the uninstall and reopened the app. The interface was still clean; nowhere mentioned the word "hyper-spatial."
He tried placing another order, typing "beef noodles," but the delivery fee was still $10.
This time, he didn't pay and just exited.
Lin leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes. The image of that girl in the red vest surfaced in his mind again. Her stiff posture when handing over the plastic bag, her hollow eyes, the cold touch. And the failed motion-sensor light in the hallway, the thick darkness.
None of it felt right.
After a while, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Susan walked out, drying her hair. "Aren't you going to shower?"
"Right away." Lin stood up and grabbed his change of clothes.
Passing the kitchen trash can, he glanced at the two empty food containers inside.
Just ordinary white plastic containers, exactly like the ones used by Chick-fil-A.
He picked the containers out for a closer look. The bottom indeed had the "Chick-fil-A" logo and production license number printed on it.
13 seconds. From placing the order to the doorbell ringing, only 13 seconds.
This violated the most basic laws of physics.
Even if the food could be teleported instantly, what about the preparation process? The packing process?
Unless... the food wasn't made fresh, but was directly "taken" from some point in time or space.
With this thought, Lin entered the bathroom.
He quickly finished, turned off the water, dried off, put on his pajamas, and walked out.
Susan was already in bed, her back to him, seemingly asleep.
Lin opened his browser and started searching for "hyper-spatial delivery," "instant delivery anomalies," "food delivery apps collectively disappear." Most search results were irrelevant. There were a few posts on sci-fi forums discussing faster-than-light technology, and several theoretical articles on quantum transmission, but none related to his experience.
The night grew deeper.
Lin put down his phone and lay back. The bedroom was pitch black, only a sliver of streetlight seeped through the curtain gap. He closed his eyes, trying hard to fall asleep, but the figure in the red vest always appeared in the darkness.
Lin stared at his wife's sleeping face, suddenly remembering what she said before dinner: The old man always said she looked like his ex-wife.
Lin reached out, gently touching Susan's curly hair. She mumbled something but didn't wake.
He withdrew his hand and closed his eyes again.
Tomorrow, he definitely needed to figure out this "13Seconds" app.
