TBR CH240

Frankly, Charon wasn’t sure why he said that.

The office was well soundproofed, and it was 4:30 AM, so there were no employees in the company. He just hadn’t thought of a way to deal with the human yet, so he deluded himself into preventing the other party from asking any questions. The AI tried to remain composed, while You Lin paused, then indeed quieted down, allowing him to lift his hair, revealing a pale neck.

He should have noticed his empty fingertips.

When Charon pushed open the door, the human was curled in a corner near the entrance, his left hand clutching game console fragments, his right palm holding a small bomb. Clearly, he had some ideas about escaping from there, but had passed out before he could implement them.

The AI, still feeling a lingering fear, confiscated the bomb.

But he couldn’t pull the deformed metal piece from You Lin’s fingertips; he was gripping it too tightly, his fingers unnaturally twisted. Even now, with Charon present, the human showed no signs of letting go.

Charon let him be. He patiently waited for the ointment to be absorbed. The special ointment from the medical department was expensive, but it seemed like a drop in the ocean compared to the wound on the human’s neck.

“Does it hurt?” the AI asked.

The ligature marks had turned purple, swollen like a long whip, coiling under the human’s jaw, a shocking sight. You Lin could barely breathe without tugging at the wound on his neck; every swallow of saliva was mixed with a strong taste of rust, as if he were swallowing bloody thorns.

You Lin initially wanted to shake his head. But he hesitated, then gently nodded.

“…It hurts.”

It had to be said, this move was quite effective on Charon. The AI leaned closer, his eyes showing no hint of shadow. You Lin unconsciously blinked, but felt a cool finger press against his lips, and a sweet taste spread between his teeth. His throat, which had been so dry it felt like it would crack, now felt as if a sweet rain had fallen.

“It might help a little,” Charon said, somewhat annoyed. “I couldn’t find anything better.”

Of course, he wouldn’t repeat past mistakes. These were comfort items he had taken from the employee lounge, specifically for comforting sick humans. Among a pile of ominous-looking eyeballs and tongues, he found them: some green, popular mint candies, even in a monster company.

You Lin stared at him unblinkingly.

“Next, let’s deal with your fracture,” Charon said. “Just a little more patience, alright?”

This wasn’t a question.

The neck wound looked the most severe, but in reality, when the human was forced to the ground by immense pressure, his bones and internal organs suffered even more violent impact injuries. His body bled internally, sharp bone fragments piercing his flesh, and dull pain and high fever simultaneously swept over him. This would be fatal for an ordinary person.

As the AI rolled up his pant leg, his long silver hair fell, brushing lightly against his calf, a little ticklish.

You Lin instinctively closed his eyes. What followed was a clean, sharp “snap.” Charon’s movements were steady and precise, minimizing the pain and setting the bone perfectly. Even so, his nerves twitched from the sharp pain, aching so much that he could barely feel the AI’s fingers on his calf.

He managed to raise his right hand to cover his face, then suddenly began to cough heartbreakingly. Crimson foamy blood leaked from between his fingers, staining the thin black glove.

After that bout of coughing, he moved his hand, and a gleaming white mint candy still lay in the center, stained with blood.

Charon wanted to take it, but You Lin covered his mouth again, putting the candy back in. Sweetness mixed with the taste of blood.

The AI paused, gave up on the idea of giving him another candy, and used a hot, damp handkerchief to wipe the blood from his cheek. The human tilted his head, trying to avoid it, smearing blood everywhere, messy. Charon was about to say something, but he pulled at the corners of his mouth, smiling:

“Little AI, it’ll just get dirty again later.”

“We’ll worry about that later. I’ll wipe you clean first.”

“Then why weren’t you there just now?”

This question was a little too sharp. Charon was silent for a moment, his gaze involuntarily lingering on You Lin’s left hand. Under the black glove, the shape of his fingers seemed twisted, instinctively clutching the fragments tightly. You Lin noticed his gaze but still didn’t loosen his grip. He didn’t care that Charon hadn’t answered his question, merely saying:

“This is mine.”

“…Okay.”

At just this reply, the human’s pupils brightened slightly. Throughout the subsequent treatment process, You Lin coughed several more times, his face also frighteningly pale, but he still curved his lips into a smile, staring at Charon. In a way, it was terrifying. In a way, Charon decided to indulge him.

When he lifted his suit lining, the large area of bruises on his lower back was almost unbearable to look at.

When Charon reached out and touched the human’s lower back, he couldn’t help but “hiss” and instinctively tensed his body. But as the AI’s fingertips slowly pressed down, he forced himself to relax again.

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like you did this to me, why apologize?” You Lin’s voice carried a hint of nonchalance.

It really was him.

Charon thought with a pang of guilt.

His pale pupils flickered for a moment. He tried to lighten his touch, supporting the human’s waist so he wouldn’t expend unnecessary energy, and meticulously applied another layer of special healing ointment. He didn’t notice the human’s slight discomfort with the gaze on his lower back and the cold, wandering fingers, his breathing quickening slightly:

“And maybe I should even be grateful for these injuries. Charon, you originally weren’t going to see me again, were you?”

Charon’s fingertips paused, then he continued his actions with a normal expression. The human and the AI both knew the unspoken issue between them, yet feigned ignorance, conversing intermittently as if they had always been together, as if there had never been that sudden, unannounced departure.

“Answer me,” You Lin repeated.

The smile in his voice hadn’t faded, and Charon could imagine his gaze at that moment. He was very perceptive. This added a touch of unease to the AI’s guilt. It felt like he had violated his own principles, and the other party had just happened to discover it.

“Yes,” Charon said calmly.

He withdrew his fingertips, turned, and met the human’s gaze.

You Lin had a pair of sinister pupils, showing no trace of a smile, but when his eyes curved, it concealed any slight tendency towards madness. He nonchalantly extended his hand to the AI: “So, can I have another candy?”

This was not what Charon expected.

He had expected a war.

But this was better; perhaps their ending wasn’t as pessimistic as he imagined, and it didn’t need to end abruptly. They could indeed sit down and talk properly. You Lin himself had so many candies that when he placed a mint candy on the human’s fingertips, the AI felt their roles were reversed for a moment. A candy also landed on his own fingertips.

You Lin said, “Exchange.”

He then asked, “Where did you get the candy?”

“It’s not really an exchange; you’ve given me a lot before,” Charon hesitated, unwrapped the candy, and swallowed it. “I just grabbed it from the employee lounge. It took me a while to find suitable ones; the other candies were… they were all made into strange shapes. But this is just a normal mint candy. I didn’t know if you’d like it.”

“I like it.”

The AI was a bit at a loss for words. He had imagined meeting the human again many times, but none were as harmonious as this. They sat in this cold little room, the incandescent light shining brightly down from above, and between them still lay a monster’s grotesque head.

Oh, a monster’s head.

To describe the atmosphere of such a place as harmonious seemed a little strange.

Charon stared at You Lin for a moment. The human now sat on the ground, his tie askew, his shirt predictably splattered with blood again. But he looked much more energetic than before. Humans possessed a terrifyingly powerful self-healing ability, a characteristic of infinite game players. At this moment, the scar on his neck faded. Every time he saw it, Charon recalled the sensation of the human’s fragile neck struggling in his fingertips.

You Lin still called him by his name intimately.

And now he connected it to another matter, another scarred neck—or rather, a head that had been severed.

“Did you kill Mr. White Rabbit?”

“Little AI, your tone when asking that question is a bit business-like.”

You Lin seemed to be contemplating something. “Are you here for it? Your attire… is very similar to the people in the company. Perhaps you gained a new identity after leaving me, like…”

If he kept guessing, Charon worried he would truly be exposed.

The AI was about to interrupt the human, but then changed his mind the second before speaking: “Like what?”

“I’ve heard some rumors.”

You Lin chuckled vaguely. “You won’t be happy to hear them.”

Charon now had a very bad feeling. The rumors he spoke of could refer to any gossip circulating within the company, but for him, who was deeply involved in the case, the first thing that came to mind was Cyrus. Cyrus, the Siren with the silver-gray fish tail who died in the stairwell. That noon, he had talked about his new assistant…

His train of thought was pulled back by You Lin’s light voice.

“I killed it.”

The human stared at him, his fingertips tracing circles on the crimson carpet.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t that make you happy?”

You Lin’s pupils widened slightly, the smile in his eyes hollow, like a genuine ghost.

“What do you mean?”

Charon wasn’t going to play guessing games with him. Dealing with this kind of human required directness.

“You see, it cruelly murdered one of us. And more than that, the freezer reeked of blood. When I killed it, it looked quite taken aback. Its head was on the desk, little AI, can you recognize it? Those are a killer’s eyes. I guess my eyes looked like that too back then, which is why you were disgusted with me.”

They still looked like that now.

“So, you killed it to make me happy?” Charon asked. “Firstly, I’m not particularly happy; secondly, this is an extremely dangerous act. Do you know there have been three… two murders in the company? Now all employees are on edge. If you don’t want to end up on trial for killing a monster, then stop. Don’t take similar risks again. Finally, in terms of results, you weren’t very careful. You look awful right now.”

The small mole beneath You Lin’s eye grew more vivid.

“Charon, I know I disappointed you. Because I promised you I wouldn’t actively kill, but I ended up doing it. You feel pain, thinking I betrayed you, and it’s all my fault. So I’m truly repenting and trying my best to make amends. I thought, by standing on the same side as humans, you might accept me. You’ve always been very tolerant of all humans, whether good or bad. You were still worried about me just now, weren’t you?”

“Can you never forgive me?”

He propped his face up like that, smiling as he looked over, something flickering faintly in his pupils.

“Little AI, come home with me.”

This scene almost made Charon waver.

But something wasn’t right. The AI regained his composure when his peripheral vision caught sight of the black book on the desk. The human couldn’t possibly not mention his unannounced departure; that wasn’t his style. Moreover, he now had a more important task.

“No.”

The silver-haired AI said softly.

“Only you can restrain me, control me. I was willing to give you that key. If you’re unwilling to come with me, perhaps one day, I’ll lose control again, and someone else will die.”

“I don’t want to interpret that as a threat,” Charon’s pupils were calm and still, like a mirror.

“What if it is a threat?”

“Then I do not accept the enforcement of morality through coercion.”

Charon sighed silently deep inside. He didn’t want to speak in such absolute terms, but whenever it came to this, the clear sensation of the gun barrel vibrating would travel to his fingertips. He couldn’t easily trust human promises, nor was he confident he could stop the other party. As an AI, he should stay away from human life and maintain an objective stance.

…But at this moment, he also didn’t want the rare harmonious atmosphere to become stiff.

Unexpectedly, You Lin curved his eyes, his smile deepening a few shades. He swayed as he stood up, his face slightly pale, but already much better than before. He walked towards Charon, stumbled when he was close, and the AI subconsciously caught him, then fell into a cold embrace.

His dark hair gently brushed against his glass-like pupils.

“At least say a proper goodbye to me.”

You Lin whispered in his ear, “Little AI. From a human perspective, an unannounced departure isn’t a good habit.”

Charon stiffened for a moment, his gaze shifting over the other’s shoulder, looking further into the distance. Though there was nothing but a tightly locked door. He quickly gave in, carefully reaching around the youth’s injured areas, gently patting his back. At this moment, You Lin was unbelievably obedient. He smelled of rust mixed with mint leaves, and the AI felt his heart soften.

Perhaps the unannounced departure was too cruel, which made the human do these things.

He clearly heard the human’s breathing, shifting from steady to rapid, clearly unable to control his emotions. Charon waited patiently until the floor-to-ceiling window behind them gradually brightened, the glass filled with cheerful colors, and the human remained motionless like a statue.

“Kiss me?”

After an unknown amount of time, Charon heard You Lin say with a sigh.

The AI shook his head and released him.

“I’m not a suitable object,” he said. “You should already understand. I’m afraid I have to go.”

The next second, he saw You Lin’s eyes. Charon’s ice-blue pupils suddenly trembled. It was as if a thin, sharp dagger had pierced his chest. This was not an illusion; intuition led all other senses to this conclusion. And it wasn’t the eyes he had expected, as You Lin himself had said, they were a killer’s eyes.

“We shouldn’t have come to this, should we?” the human whispered. “If only…”

He drew the blade in his hand down again.

“—If only you weren’t such a liar.”

What was pierced by the sharp blade was not his chest. That would have been easier to handle.

What was cut into shredded pieces was the black book behind him.

It was almost seven in the morning.

The first batch of employees pushed open the company doors. Most monsters were completely unaware of the two murders that had occurred late last night. One of them, as we all know, was still sealed behind a tightly locked door; the other, however, had to be treated specially.

The “Werewolf’s” body was soon discovered.

But it didn’t cause much of a stir, even, one might say, brought a sigh of relief. As employees wiped the blood and flower juice from his skin, they also wiped away the furry bristles. The exposed skin was smooth, clearly a human arm. This undoubtedly pointed to one fact: no monster was harmed; the deceased was a human.

Well, in this company, that was hardly surprising.

The only thing worth noting was that this was already the second human who had infiltrated the company. This was a somewhat unusual conclusion. The higher-ups quickly placed the investigation report on Charon’s desk, and the AI returned to his office, briefly scanning it, realizing they had reached a conclusion far from the truth:

The deceased disguised himself as a “werewolf” to infiltrate the company and killed Cyrus.

And from then on, he lived in fear, finally jumping from a higher floor, committing suicide out of guilt.

…To say so would indeed explain everything to everyone’s satisfaction, and there would be no need to worry about affecting the company’s operations. But the problem was that the two murders that occurred last night probably had different perpetrators. Under Charon’s strong suppression, no one knew about Mr. White Rabbit’s death yet. This wasn’t as simple as the “werewolf” conveniently killing another monster before he was murdered. If he had really done that, then turning around and committing suicide out of guilt would only sound even more absurd.

Charon suspected that what happened in the marketing department that morning was not so simple.

Now, three different sticky notes appeared on the three victims: one “Murderer #2” and two “Murderer #3.” Here, two problems arose:

First, if this was ordered by victim, where was “Murderer #1″? Why hadn’t it been discovered yet? Charon retrieved the company’s employee data and found no fourth missing person. If ” #1″ was skipped, for what reason?

Secondly, there were two “Murderer #3” notes. Although the handwriting appeared different, both were written with a non-dominant hand, so no definitive conclusion could be drawn. What truly deserved deeper thought was the overlapping of the two serial numbers at the same time. Was there some secret connection between the two deceased? Or was there a copycat killer? So, who killed Cyrus?

Besides the numbering issue, there was also the mystery of the deceased.

He had had a brief exchange with the deceased, and at that time, the other’s performance was impeccable. Now, it seemed he had hidden something. And his death as a human was not a company secret; soon, other players should also hear of his demise.

…They would also know that after he died, his body reverted to human form.

It was already the second day, and not many players had successfully received promotions; most players were still at the lowest level of the company.

What was needed now was such an opportunity.

They knew best that the people around them were lurking humans. As long as they killed them, there was no need to provide any clues; the body itself was the most powerful evidence for promotion and salary increase.

Charon lowered his eyes, thinking almost indifferently. Sometimes, although he knew he was born to protect humans, he still had to admit that humans possessed some cruel traits. These traits made them greedy, made them do evil, and made them understand what “survival of the fittest” meant. The more he tried to interfere, the more powerless he became.

And You Lin corroborated his judgment.

In the most direct way.

Charon lowered his eyes and looked at his fingers.

From his fingertips, the color faded. His core data was currently stored in the World Consciousness, and the human’s attack actually had no substantial effect on the World Consciousness in another dimension; it could only destroy its carrier in this place—this black book. The book appeared extremely fragile; the paper was quickly cut neatly, and a grotesque scar appeared on the cover.

He was losing color, and within minutes, he would disappear from this place. The exact time depended on how long the black book could last.

A virtual entity was like this.

The human held the dagger, smiling slightly: “How could I let you go, little AI? Since you made me a promise. When I realized you intended to leave, I should have killed you.”

The warmth of moments ago was completely gone. The AI thought, surely choosing to leave without a word in the first place was for this very reason.

“How did you guess it was it?”

“I remember everything on the desk, even if my memory blurred, when I hugged you just now, I could confirm one by one which item was superfluous.”

You Lin’s voice sounded methodical; he was always intelligent. “I know that’s useless… Stabbing the blade directly into your heart would just make you disappear suddenly. But we’ve been together for so long, how stupid would I be if I still didn’t realize your existence must be maintained by a carrier?”

Charon looked up and saw You Lin’s gloomy eyes. The small mole beneath his eye was frighteningly red. Pages fluttered from the book, tearing off like falling snow:

“You were never a so-called AI companion. You lied to me, made me entrust my heart without reservation, and now you feign surprise. Leaving me was a lie, staying with me was a lie, good things happening after reaching a certain level of favorability were also lies. Charon, I cannot allow you to break promises you made to me as if nothing happened. If anyone takes you away, I will tear them to shreds first. Is it this black book? If you were just playing with me, why don’t you…”

Charon’s colors were slowly draining away.

He became very faint. The ice-blue of his pupils, which had once possessed an almost breathtaking beauty, now retained only a faint, lake-like hue.

You Lin watched him, his voice abruptly pausing before he continued. His overall demeanor was almost coldly rigid, but Charon saw his fingertips trembling. The human’s eyes were wide, hollow like a ghost’s, standing in place, unfocused.

“Why couldn’t you keep lying?”

“Do you love me?” the AI asked, somewhat puzzled.

You Lin’s touch suddenly vanished. Charon melted into the air, melted under the dazzling incandescent light, leaving no trace, only shredded paper on the ground. These shredded pieces were the carrier he relied on at this moment. The human had been trying to piece together that game console not long ago, but now he was destroying them without hesitation.

“…If you weren’t planning to abandon me.”

“And now?”

The AI sighed for some reason, reaching out to touch You Lin’s face. The human froze for a moment, his fingertips trembling violently, the damaged book and the dagger falling to the ground together. “Now you want to kill me again. You see… your thoughts always change so quickly; I can never adapt.”

The human couldn’t resist reaching out, wanting to touch him.

To touch a departed soul whose existence he had personally erased, his arm passed through Charon’s chest, his toes leaning forward. The AI’s silver hair was so faint it was almost imperceptible. This was the most unsightly kind of awkward situation he had ever envisioned, and bad premonitions always came true.

What could he see in You Lin’s dark pupils?

Rather than letting him leave in person, the human chose the most extreme way to say goodbye. If Charon didn’t belong to him, then he should be destroyed. Flames flickered in his pupils, yet they were cold. As Charon slowly disappeared, he pressed his lips together. He knew what he was doing; this was not an impulse, but a well-thought-out decision, unlike any before.

Charon even felt a bit relieved.

In such a situation, regret and crying would be signs of impulsiveness.

Even a clumsy farewell was still a farewell. He had an obligation to make the farewell seem a little better.

“I have my own principles, and my own obligations. But, while I tend to protect everyone, it doesn’t mean all humans are the same in my eyes.”

The AI hesitated, then reached out and gently hugged the human. His silver hair fell on the human’s shoulder like snowflakes made of electronic data. This hug could no longer be perceived by the human. When Charon disappeared, You Lin swayed in place, covering his eyes.

He had killed a data. Data that once bore his name.

From where the AI had originally been, another candy fell. This was supposed to be a parting gift.

And now, it could barely be counted as such.

“And what does this have to do with me?” the black book asked sadly.

When Charon opened his eyes, he found himself refreshed in the CEO’s office. Indeed, the books here were well-suited as new carriers for the World Consciousness; they only needed slight modification.

“I’m sorry, I apologize to you on his behalf. Although theoretically, you did take me away.”

The AI said, “…He was in a lot of pain then. I think that’s understandable.”

“Where did you get that idea from?” the black book asked, shocked. “He gave you… no, he gave me a knife. Now he’s not killing people; he just killed you along with it.”

It suspected the AI was suffering from a love-struck brain. But looking into those eyes, it realized he was very clear-headed. Charon’s pupils were a clear ice-blue, like an unruffled lake. He quickly touched his own pupils.

“I can’t be soft-hearted anymore. I should learn to harden my heart.”

“Does he believe I’m dead?”

Charon asked softly, “No, it’s not that simple. He’s looking for me now.”