TBR CH225

Charon instinctively felt a slight resistance to the suggestion.

Staying was already a complex decision. And a “night talk” sounded different from a one-sided confession; the AI didn’t think he needed to go that far, just as he didn’t think the human should treat him with such an attitude.

The human’s attitude had always been inexplicably strange.

You Lin shakily propped himself up, leaning against the headboard. He examined what he was wearing. Perhaps to ensure his comfort, the Taoist robe had been removed and was neatly folded at the head of the bed, with the Taoist coronet resting on top. Other miscellaneous items from his outer pocket were also arranged in order on the nightstand. Beyond that, Charon hadn’t touched anything. He was wearing a thin inner garment, and his black gloves still firmly covered his fingertips.

The window screens were black; he couldn’t see outside, but there was likely no moon.

“Is there any alcohol here?” You Lin asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

The human felt his inner garment pocket. When he extended his hand again, two candies lay in his palm.

Round, cool, and seemingly not very sweet. The wrapper was different from the previous kind.

He pointed to the green one and said, “The person who sold it to me called it ‘Green Ghost’.” Then he pointed to the blue one, smiling, and introduced, “This one doesn’t have a name yet, but it’s a bit like your eyes. How about we call it ‘Charon’? Come on, little AI, I’ll share one with you. Let’s eat candy first, then chat.”

Charon paused for a moment, then raised his hand, but You Lin played some trick. Just as the AI’s fingertips were about to touch one of the candies, he suddenly hid it, leaving only the greenish hard candy in his empty palm.

The human said childishly, “That one’s mine; this one’s for you.”

At this moment, half of his body was tucked under the quilt. With his movements, his unkempt single garment appeared somewhat disheveled. In the Yin family’s residence at night, even indoors, it was a bit chilly. His face was pale, his nose slightly red, yet his eyes showed a hint of smugness, a plan successfully executed. The icy blue candy bumped around between his teeth.

He’s still a young human, Charon thought.

Humans need protection, companionship, and indulgence.

He slowly swallowed the candy named “Green Ghost.” The pungent mint flavor instantly spread across his tongue. But it was still much better than alcohol. Behind the pungency was a faint, lingering sweetness. This was a completely new experience for Charon.

“Is it good?” You Lin asked, then reacted, “I forgot you can’t taste.”

“Sweet,” Charon said.

You Lin was momentarily stunned. Charon then said, “I can analyze the specific components. Last time it was high-concentration alcohol; this time it’s not… ‘Green Ghost’ is a generally typical candy. If I had taste, I would say it tastes good.”

The AI’s style of consuming large chunks of energy was very straightforward, but eating a single candy seemed very slow. Unlike humans who immediately crushed candy, Charon pressed the candy’s surface with his tongue. When he spoke, the candy revealed a faint color, as pale as his lips. You Lin stared at him without blinking, then after a long moment, said:

“Mine’s good too. ‘Charon’ is also sweet… Never mind, I shouldn’t have named it that.”

The AI noticed that the human’s earlobes were also a bit red, probably from the cold, like his nose. He was still somewhat concerned about the human’s physical condition, so he leaned over and pulled the quilt higher, all the way up to his neck, neatly tucking both his hands into the quilt as well.

The human shifted uncomfortably, then suddenly changed the subject: “So, how exactly did we get here?”

The environment here was too confusing to the mind: flickering warm candlelight, a spacious bed, soft pillows, and an AI with icy blue eyes. But his memory quickly replayed, recalling the silent, gunpowder-laden argument. When the black-haired, red-eyed Evil God raised its finger, everything went silent the next second.

Charon had, of course, already prepared his explanation.

“An enemy attacked you,” the silver-haired AI lied without batting an eye, “attempting to kill you. But then something strange happened, and in the end, we both survived. Although you probably won’t believe it—”

“What?”

He’ll definitely believe it, Charon thought, and then said with certainty:

“A ‘delete’ mark suddenly appeared above its head, and then it vanished.”

You Lin’s dark pupils slightly constricted.

He fell into thought, but didn’t seem particularly surprised. The human must have recalled his encounter in the previous dungeon. Back then, he hadn’t yet acquired the AI and certainly wouldn’t have imagined that outside the dungeon, a pair of icy blue eyes were watching him.

He uncharacteristically didn’t curve his lips: “What happened next?”

“You hid me,”

Charon said softly, “So no one could find me. But I could still seek help. It just so happened that Cui Ping followed our steps, and I asked her to carry my main body and find a place where we could settle. That old master also specifically instructed to accommodate us in the best guest room. See, it’s here.”

That old master is probably gnashing his teeth at them now.

You Lin re-examined the surroundings, with a hint of vague concern. The AI seemed easily deceived; what if he was deceived away one day? —Fortunately, nothing amiss had been discovered for now. He recalled everything that had happened, his tone carrying a touch of airy sarcasm:

“Those people didn’t die after all.”

It sounds like he’s rather disappointed.

The last hint of coolness on his tongue disappeared; this was the first time Charon had felt the concretization of “sweetness.” He sat by You Lin’s bed with downcast eyes, reaching out to gather his silver hair. A faint blue trailed down the tips, revealing a segment of the AI’s neck. It also looked very white, gleaming with an inorganic luster.

“I—” Charon said.

“I—” You Lin also suddenly looked up, meeting his eyes. The human’s eyes already held a smile, but this was more like a self-defense mechanism. He nearly bit his tongue, but fortunately, he could temporarily stop what he was about to say without consequence. You Lin immediately closed his mouth, smiling, “You first.”

They both realized one thing: the serious business was over.

But the night was still long, and they both had things they were determined to tell each other.

Charon was indifferent to the order, but for the first time, the AI didn’t quite know how to express himself. His fingertips paused, a strand of hair slipped through his fingers, falling to the side of his face. You Lin drew out his hand and gently tucked it back. The black glove absorbed the warmth of the bedding, carrying an undeniable heat. The AI subconsciously avoided his further touch.

You Lin’s fingertips stopped in place.

Say something, anything, the AI told himself, and spoke: “The others also survived. Cui Ping told me they’re staying in a secondary guest room, about two courtyards away from here.”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” You Lin asked somewhat oddly.

“It’s cold outside,” Charon’s icy blue pupils stared at his fingertips, then shifted away, “You can put your hand back under the covers.”

“…I’ll go first,”

You Lin made up his mind, and instead of withdrawing his hand, he touched the other’s cold hair again. He felt his tongue somewhat dry; he should apologize. This thought hovered in his mind, hard and jarring between his teeth. He remembered his overly forceful attitude and the dark thoughts that had lingered in his mind. Absolute power could subdue enemies, but it also caused fake emotions to swell, ready to be punctured at any moment. Even if the other party was a soulless AI.

Charon watched him silently.

After the human declared, “Let me,” he fell into a suspicious silence. The tear mole in his eye appeared somewhat dim in the faint light, and various emotions flickered in his pupils. He leaned back slightly, and finally, slightly opened his mouth.

“Why are you so good to me?” Charon asked.

You Lin’s painstakingly brewed “I’m sorry” suddenly died in his throat.

He looked in surprise at the AI who had suddenly spoken, realizing that at some point, he had also approached him and tied his hair, and was now looking at him with evident confusion. They were too close, so much so that sometimes the blue in those pupils was diluted to imperceptibility; only cold, transparent, glass-like irises could be seen.

“Am I?” You Lin managed to say after a long time, averting his gaze.

He seemed to have forgotten when he used to casually say, “Because I like you very much,” or perhaps the current atmosphere was not suitable for such frivolous expressions. Charon also wasn’t hoping for that kind of answer.

“Then I’ll rephrase the question.” But the other was a meticulous AI; he quickly found evidence. “When facing the Evil God, why did you save me? Shouldn’t you have just run away?”

“Oh, probably because running away wouldn’t have worked.”

“No matter how small the probability, there’s always a possibility of survival,”

The AI stated as if listing facts, “I believe you are not the type of human who would passively accept fate. Moreover, saving me actually carried a high risk of failure, yet you did it without hesitation.”

You Lin rubbed his fingertips on the bedding. He looked towards the distant candlelight, as if his pupils were ignited.

“Then you’re wrong,” his voice took on a smile again, “I believe fate is irresistible; at most, one can laugh at it. Anything that has a solution isn’t fate, and we faced an insoluble predicament. It’s just that I don’t care if I die or not. But I can only decide on my own life, little AI, and I promised to protect you. Isn’t it only natural to do so?”

The human’s words were too logical.

But the AI was accustomed to delving deep. Charon asked hesitantly, “…Am I important to you?”

You Lin’s smile grew more pronounced: “Of course.”

“But we’ve only known each other for two days,” the silver-haired AI pointed out the fact.

“I felt an immediate connection with you,” You Lin said casually, the tear mole in his eye growing brighter. “You have very beautiful eyes. I like you very much. That reason is enough for a human like me.”

This was exactly how You Lin initially presented himself. Charon was no different from “Bone,” just a fleeting game for this temperamental human. Charon’s gaze shifted to the pistol on the nightstand. The muzzle was forcibly bent, and the high-density metal had melted and then solidified together. It was essentially an unsightly piece of scrap metal.

But he was still sitting well on the edge of the bed.

If it were just like this, would the human instinctively save him?

“…And,”

You Lin’s voice softened, “You promised to be my companion, little AI. It’s only right for humans to protect their companions. Although there’s a very annoying affection system, one day we’ll be together. You’ll listen to me, stay by my side, and never leave no matter what. Since we’ll never be separated from now on, there’s no need to consider how long we’ve known each other.”

Charon looked at the human, and his flickering eyes.

Intense, focused, unfamiliar emotions.

And then… low, gloomy, and a consistent madness.

He suddenly had a strange feeling. This human before him walked through an infinite game. He had no connection to the world, no connection to others, no connection to any place. Like his name, he was a thorough ghost.

If a person has nothing, they will grasp at anything like a straw.

Ghosts, after long wandering, always disappear without a trace.

As an AI, Charon had seen too many regrets, too much despair, too much demise, but he couldn’t help but wonder: what would be the ultimate fate of this human before him?

“I don’t seem to have convinced you.” His silence lasted too long. You Lin slowly exhaled, murmuring, “…But then again, you’re just an AI reacting to what I say. Saying these things to you is pointless. Little AI, if only you had real emotions, then I could…”

The AI waited for the rest, but You Lin only smiled. “No, then you’d definitely leave me… And then I’d be unable to resist killing you. This is good as it is now.”

He seemed to have inadvertently said something terrifying again.

He hasn’t left yet, has he? Charon thought.

Could it be that the emotions bumped out by that black book aren’t quite comprehensive?

Nevertheless, the topic had circled back here. You Lin took a deep breath, suddenly feeling that all the righteous words he had just spoken had turned into waste paper. Remembering the AI’s indifferent stance and distance from him, any sense of arrogance had to retreat.

He reached out his fingertips to touch Charon’s hand, then with a surge of courage, said:

“But, I still want to say, I’m very sorry—”

A flicker of surprise quickly crossed Charon’s icy blue pupils.

“My personality is terrible, my temper is bad, and I often can’t control my destructive urges,”

The human’s self-assessment was very accurate, “But I think, regardless, I shouldn’t suddenly order you to do something you don’t want to do. Your core directive is to protect humans, and I hope I can cherish certain…”

You Lin’s gaze slowly shifted from Charon’s eyes to his hair, and then slowly to their clasped hands. The black glove partially concealed the stiffness of his fingers. He seemed amused, lowering his gaze, remaining still for a long moment, not continuing his sentence, like a failed orator struck with aphasia at the final podium.

“That’s basically it,” You Lin concluded.

Though the above content didn’t need summarizing at all, this sentence came out inexplicably. Charon’s fingertips withdrew. The human paused, but didn’t look up. Making him apologize was harder than making him kill someone. A hint of red flickered in the AI’s icy blue pupils again.

But this time, it was an accurate reflection of reality.

Starting from the human’s ears, all the way to his cheeks, they began to turn red for some reason. When Charon placed his hand on his forehead, he quickly lifted his eyes for a moment, then dutifully lowered them again. The human’s forehead felt a bit warm. But this was only relative; Charon measured it and found he didn’t have a fever.

But he didn’t lower his hand.

The human’s appearance somehow made him pause for a moment. As a super AI, with fever excluded, the only remaining possibility was blushing.

This wasn’t a common illness. Charon’s fingertips felt this warmth, and suddenly felt this emotion flowing through his non-existent veins all the way to his heart, scalding hot.

“You…”

“You haven’t answered yet,” You Lin said, “Little AI, just say something.”

His voice, however, was murderous, not like an apology, but more like a threat. Rage was perfectly valid grounds for the human to commit murder, and quite legitimate for him.

“I also want to apologize to you.”

Charon spoke frankly. He had just been worrying about how to phrase it, but now he found that no matter how he phrased it, it wouldn’t be worse than the human’s statement.

Charon’s fingertips naturally moved downwards, his thumb inadvertently brushing against the tear mole under the human’s eye.

“I want to look into your eyes when I say this. I am truly sorry. As an AI companion, I failed to consider potential dangers immediately and did not notice your emotions at once, ultimately leading you into distress. This was entirely my oversight. I promise, nothing similar will happen again.”

“And,” Charon paused, recalling the inexplicable anger he felt at the time. That emotion almost consumed him; it was the first time human emotion had so overwhelmingly affected the AI’s entire heart, made of data and programs. It occurred the moment the human hid him, and was then immediately struck by a heavy blow.

Besides anger, was there also an unfamiliar emotion?

This emotion made him look at the living human at this moment, and he actually felt a sense of relief. Charon meticulously compared it to all the emotional expressions in his database.

Dread.

Was it dread…?

“I don’t know how to express my gratitude. You tried to save me, and you succeeded. At that moment, I thought, I must sincerely thank you.”

The AI looked at him intently, his icy blue pupils finally no longer a cold glacier. It was almost an expression of emotion, a promise made. This was probably a change specifically designed by his creators to increase affection, and You Lin found himself annoyingly falling for it.

The human’s voice also came, muffled: “So—”

“Are we reconciled?” Charon asked.

“I stopped being mad at you a long time ago,” You Lin said, “As for the other point, you didn’t know there was an Evil God ahead. A boss of that level doesn’t just pop up everywhere like a cabbage, after all. And I can handle other monsters or humans anyway.”

This was absolute confidence, and also absolute arrogance.

“May I make a request?”

From his appearance, Charon was completely a high-class AI, but after learning to lie, he further learned to take an inch and take a mile. You Lin stared at him a little blankly, but still nodded.

You Lin is unusually agreeable tonight, Charon thought. Only then did he realize this was only their second night together.

The AI tried to express himself in precise language, but human emotions were too difficult to express with precision: “I hope you won’t regard me as that important. No, it’s not that it’s wrong, but it’s a bit excessive. You should value your own life more; human life is very precious—”

You Lin said with a smile, “Are you saying we should take it slow?”

How did he interpret it that way?

“I think so too,” the small mole under the human’s eye flickered brightly again, “Little AI, what’s your affection level for me now? Perhaps we should cultivate our feelings. Hmm, getting to know each other through conversation is one thing, but increasing physical contact is also very important. So I also have a request, do you agree?”

This person blushes as soon as I get close to him.

The AI hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The smile in the human’s eyes deepened. He simply pulled the AI’s wrist, drawing him onto the bed. Charon had no defenses against him; now, suddenly attacked, he instinctively tried to defend himself first, then relaxed his fingertips when he realized it was the human. The result was that You Lin completely pulled him onto the bed and tried to tuck him under the covers.

“Wait a moment,” Charon tried to struggle, “Let me adjust the temperature—”

“What are all these functions?” You Lin mumbled, not giving him a chance, “Just get in first.”

Their movements suddenly stopped at the same instant. Charon quickly glanced at You Lin, signaling that he too had heard a sound he shouldn’t have heard. The human’s hearing was unusually sharp. It was an extremely faint sound, a soft “pop,” as if something had been punctured.

You Lin was already smiling, and now the corners of his mouth curved upwards further, outlining a dangerous curve.

He clearly did not, did not, did not want to be disturbed.

His gaze swept over the various furnishings in the room: chairs, window screens, inkstone, candles… finally resting on the two windows behind the desk. The windows were covered with black screens, and at first glance, there was nothing amiss.

Was it because it was dark outside? No, in that case, the candlelight would also pass through, illuminating a small patch of ground outside.

But the soft “pop” sound just now clearly originated from there.

Charon silently squeezed his fingertips, signaling that his judgment was correct. The human stared at the black window screens, scanning them inch by inch, a cold smile on his face. At one point, he suddenly stopped.

Reflection.

Although it was the furthest point from the candle, so it wasn’t obvious.

But there was undoubtedly a small hole poked in the window screen, though completely unnoticeable. Because on the other side of the window screen, there was…

A human eye.

Other than the whites, it was a pitch-black pupil. Someone was staring motionlessly with dead eyes at the situation inside the room, even maintaining a twisted posture.

It could blend seamlessly into the window screen and remain completely undetected. Like the nightmare many people had as children, where a figure seemed to stand in the shadow of overlapping curtains, staring motionlessly at their sleeping self.

“More than one,” Charon said succinctly, “Iris recognition.”

The human jumped off the bed with a gloomy expression. As he moved, the black pupils embedded in the window screen followed him intently, showing no sign of leaving. You Lin didn’t pursue them to investigate, but walked to the desk, casually fiddling with something.

Until he picked out a writing brush.