TBR CH242

The Black Book held its breath—a figure of speech, of course; it had none to hold.

Through the collar of Charon’s coat, employees occasionally passed in the white corridor.

The place seemed safe enough. The AI’s chest was quiet, without warmth, without a beating heart, like a marble sculpture. He lifted his eyes, and the World Consciousness recognized a somewhat familiar face.

Realizing it wasn’t You Lin, it let out a sigh of relief.

Charon, too, looked at the horned demon before him. They had briefly crossed paths at the newcomer’s meeting.

The other’s gaze cut across the crowd to land on him, examining him with a strange attitude. He didn’t rush to approach Charon; his pale lips twisted, mumbling something. An employee hurrying past with a stack of files suddenly slipped and fell.

Charon bent to help, and Jiang Wenbin came over as well.

On the front of his spotless suit, the tag now read “B-Rank Employee”—a promotion of incredible speed. But when he saw the nameplate on Charon’s chest, his expression still darkened for a few seconds.

Stunned to be helped by two men who were clearly elite superiors, the employee who had dropped the files stood frozen, only snapping out of it when those pale blue eyes met his. He hastily took the papers from their hands.

A silver glint flashed from those long-fingered hands—it must have been an illusion.

As the AI straightened up, a voice sounded quietly beside him:

“I’m glad you could escape his influence by your own strength and stand on the right side.”

The speaker looked less like a human and more like a complete demon. He had turbid yellow irises, sharp horns, and a mouth full of stark white teeth when he grinned. Charon looked at him expressionlessly and gave a slight nod. They brushed past the employee who had scattered the documents.

A hard slip of paper was pressed between his fingers.

After his interrogation, the company had lowered its alert level on Hugo, allowing him to pass information to the outside world—a credit to the silver-haired AI, and his first offering to the “Alliance for Humanity’s Common Interest.”

The paper detailed the time and place for the next operation. It was best opened somewhere private.

Mulling this over, Charon turned into the shadow of a corner.

The gaze on him had vanished. The World Consciousness relaxed slightly. It examined the note in Charon’s hand, a string of fluid characters written in ballpoint pen, including the time, place, and all necessary conditions for a murder. At the top, the number was clearly #1; by now, they all knew what that meant.

Humans were certainly clever; that’s why he hadn’t been killed yet. But he wasn’t careful enough, or he would have noticed the follower stealthily trailing him. And You Lin wasn’t powerful enough—though he certainly had the arrogance—to kill the most dangerous monsters and also escape a death trap set by most of the players in this building combined.

The Alliance for Humanity’s Common Interest…

It was a strange alliance. Generally, such radical organizations didn’t easily attract players. Just moments ago, Charon had doubted it could reach such a scale, but seeing Jiang Wenbin seemed to partly resolve that question.

This elite in the gold-rimmed glasses was a high-ranking member of the largest organization in the infinite games, “Eden.” In the isolated environment of the monster company, the anxiety of being an outsider was infinitely magnified. Most players wanted a leader, and with Eden’s influence, achieving that wasn’t difficult.

This also explained why they were so eager to kill You Lin.

He was the greatest sinner, the first “traitor” to let human blood spill on the ground. Not only that, their feud traced back a long time—

Charon forcefully cut off his thoughts.

He had no obligation to care about the human’s past. His only mission was to find You Lin and warn him of the coming danger. Even that wasn’t necessary; it was merely out of guilt for dragging the human into this mess. He could then consider everything that had happened between them settled and follow the Black Book to the next world.

The AI calculated gains and losses with absolute rationality.

The Black Book poked out from Charon’s collar, wanting a closer look.

That’s when the gunshot rang out.

The first bullet grazed past Charon.

It was a straightforward deduction. The Human Interest Protection Association was trying to assassinate You Lin, so they sought and tracked him; meanwhile, You Lin was determined to kill him. It was no surprise they met in a deserted, shadowy place.

Charon’s brow furrowed instinctively as he met those familiar eyes.

How long had he been watching—even Charon himself hadn’t noticed the human’s gaze. The bullet missed its mark. You Lin appeared at the other end of the corridor. He blinked slowly, his gaze as indifferent as a stranger’s, reflecting only an object in his dark pupils.

It seemed the human had freed himself from the shackles of emotion.

There are many ways to end a relationship. Charon had demonstrated several, none successful. To sever the increasingly tangled threads, the human preferred his own method. He gently stroked the warm barrel of the gun with the back of his fingers and aimed again.

“The gunshot will alert other employees,” Charon reminded him.

“Bang—”

Another shot. You Lin had no intention of sitting down for a calm chat; he ignored the warning and pulled the trigger.

The sound from the silver pistol wasn’t shrill, but it was piercing. The flash of fire illuminated the AI’s pupils. Charon’s circuits vibrated unstably for a moment; his fingers were a fraction slow to cover his chest, right where a heart should be.

Blue blood, a sign of system damage, seeped through his fingers.

The perpetrator let out a low laugh, his gun hand trembling with excitement. “Just as I thought. You hid it here.”

Before he could say anything to salvage the situation, the other’s twitching, neurotic fingers pulled the trigger again and again.

Charon’s words, “I have something to warn you about,” never left his lips. A bleeding fingertip slid warningly, heavily, across the Black Book’s spine through the fabric. The book immediately leaped up, flying like a large, stealthy black bird toward the other end of the corridor. Before it could reach safety, Charon stepped forward, blocking You Lin’s dark muzzle.

The move had some effect.

No one before had been so extravagant as to use a virtual entity for a shield. This body could withstand a certain amount of trauma when coalesced, but at close range, the pale blue protective shell flickered dangerously, faint cracks appearing.

…No, it didn’t matter. He just needed to recharge at the host machine after the Black Book was safe.

Charon slowly clenched his fists, feeling his core energy drain away. The human’s sinister expression was inches away. He was still smiling, the small mole under his eye as red as blood, more vivid in the shadows. No matter how he angled the gun, Charon blocked his aim at the Black Book.

Just an object.

You Lin thought. An emotionless object that only follows orders. Someone else’s object.

A discarded object should be destroyed, let alone one that discarded you.

The human stopped adjusting his aim. He took a step forward. The smell of gunpowder and metal pressed heavily against the AI’s temple. Those beautiful ice-blue pupils were inches away, and the silver hair cascaded down, its ends submerged in blue virtual blood. It was almost like killing a person.

They were so close, they could have kissed in the next moment.

You Lin’s eyes suddenly curved into a smile.

Footsteps were already clattering from behind. Firing a gun inside the company was a bit excessive, and the virtual humanoid before him couldn’t truly be killed. It was a meaningless act.

Charon’s pale blue irises even flickered for a rare moment. He opened his mouth, as if to take this chance to say something.

The human pulled the trigger without preamble.

No conversation, no accusations, no farewells. No purpose, just pure revenge.

This was a decisive, hateful murder.

The bullet tore through the AI’s right temple and out the left, bursting into a spray of hot sparks. The words he wanted to say were annihilated in the air. The virtual entity finally collapsed, dissolving into ice-blue fragments in the void. You Lin could even pass his hand through its chest. A pity the Black Book had fled too quickly; it was now nowhere in sight.

The first employee to arrive finally appeared, panting.

He stared, dumbfounded, at the scene—a murder with no victim—and was speechless.

Charon touched his temple, then his fingers moved down to his eye.

The Black Book watched him cautiously.

“You didn’t have to block for me,” it said. “But I was really moved… uh, how are you feeling now? I kind of regret it, I didn’t mean to install a pain system for you, it’s just…”

“Humans must rely on pain to feel emotion,” Charon said slowly.

Every emotion is linked to pain. Love, kinship, or friendship—they bring tidal waves of pain. Without having felt pain, the numb itch of a healing wound is meaningless. The emotions of happiness and joy lose their value.

The sensation of the bullet passing through his temple replayed clearly in his mind, over and over. Red branches seemed to grow inside his body, with non-existent blood flowing through them. Two shots to the abdomen, and six to the chest—the human had persistently pierced the place where his heart should be with fire, as if obsessed.

But it seemed he had let go of his obsession with him.

“He doesn’t know you feel pain…”

“He would have fired eventually,” the AI released his fingers. “Don’t worry about me. My relationship with him should never have involved you. These worlds are ultimately under the system’s jurisdiction; finding and manipulating a suitable vessel isn’t as easy as you think. If this happens again, you run first.”

“But—”

Charon anticipated its question: “Until I find a chance to successfully warn him.”

“But doesn’t that mean,” the ink at the tip of the script paused, leaving a blot.

“I’ll find a chance eventually,” the AI said, calm and unusually patient, speaking the near-cruel words.

He didn’t care, even seemed to condone You Lin’s current actions, even as pain numbed his fingertips. The more they were like this, the more it proved they both understood that letting go of each other was only a matter of time. Even if they had to tear each other to bloody shreds, their distance would only grow on every level.

And he was more cruel, because he knew the human’s actions could no longer affect him.

The more stable he became, the more rational, the more he understood that the human’s actions only proved that someone who could cruelly kill their own kind, and even kill themselves, was not on the same path. Ending this as soon as possible was the best plan. The circuits in his body ran in harmonious unity, like gears. The AI said softly,
“—As long as he kills me a few more times.”

In fact, it was only on the seventh time he was “killed” by You Lin that Charon finally had the chance to deliver his warning in full.

These murders were scattered throughout the building. At the same time, he participated in the preparations for the ambush with other members of the Human Interest Protection Association, getting a basic grasp of what was to happen. Tonight, Jiang Wenbin and other players would join forces to report You Lin’s true identity to the company.

At the same time, they planned to use his office—a place he was sure to visit before leaving the company—as the venue, setting up special traps, inviting company executives, and preparing weapons to ensure no mistakes were made.

Charon wasn’t familiar with them, at most speaking a few times with Hugo. They were also scattered across different departments, so it was only natural for Charon to move around with his high-level clearance.

If the Black Book were to recall the five pursuits in between, it would only shiver violently.

The human struck without mercy, showing no hint of the warm promises he once made to Charon. Even Charon couldn’t always protect it completely—but for the most part, it escaped quickly, not getting caught in the continuous crossfire.

Among these:

Most of the time, it was still a gun.

Unexpected bullets would still pierce the AI’s chest from some direction, blue blood quickly spreading over the virtual entity like blooming flowers.

After seeing the Black Book escape, the human would often fire a few more careless shots, the intense barrage directly depleting Charon’s virtual entity’s energy. The process was clean and swift, leaving little room for words, at most allowing the murderer to deliver his killing speech once.

“How many times do I have to kill you before that damned Black Book stops coming to you? I will find you again and again, and kill you. Until you truly die at my hands.”

He looked just like he did when they first met.

Cold, arrogant, ruthless.

The AI thought this, but had no chance to say it. He saw his reflection in the human’s pupils fade, silver hair spilling over his shoulders, the pure white suit stained with blue blood, the ice-blue pupils fragile and vulnerable.

“You look just like you did when I first saw you…” You Lin said.

He closed his mouth, standing up thoughtfully. He was alone now. He had no habit of venting his feelings to an empty corner. Perhaps some emotion flickered faintly in his heart, but he didn’t notice it, which meant it was entirely insignificant.

Twice, he used a dagger.

They were very close then. The dagger flipped into a beautiful silver flower at the human’s fingertips, branding ice-blue cracks onto the AI’s skin—you could call them bloodstains. This time, the Black Book wasn’t fast enough to escape, and You Lin suddenly became talkative.

“You should be grateful,” the human said with a smile. “I’m spending my energy on you, so I have no time to kill my colleagues. They are all human, even if they now look like monsters. Isn’t their bloodline very precious to you?”

“I must remind you, they—”

You Lin brought the blade close to the Black Book. “It’s my turn to speak now.”

With his teammate in danger, Charon could only stand quietly, stung by the small crimson mole under the other’s eye, and couldn’t help but blink.

“Of course, I should also be grateful that I am a human, which is why you are being so lenient with me now.”

The human seemed to be searching for something unusual in those glass-like pupils. “I killed my own kind, and I killed you—though you’re still standing here—several times. I know you’re not without the ability to fight back. Even if you look at me like that, I still really like your eyes. I should gouge them out.”

As he spoke, the angle of his dagger shifted slightly.

The Black Book leaped up, like a glossy water bird with slippery wings.

It stumbled away, and the subtle angle meant the human’s blade only grazed its pages as it stabbed down. Charon found his chance to speak, but in the next second, the sharp dagger tore through his neck with incredible force.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Charon was not human; he certainly didn’t rely on vocal cords to speak. But the unfamiliar pain arrived as expected, and the AI momentarily lost the ability to speak. By the time he respawned near the Black Book, he had already counted how many times the human’s dagger needed to strike to completely destroy his virtual entity.

The decisive, crucial final time was in the bustling office lobby.

The AI spotted the human in advance.

But the timing was wrong, everything was wrong.

There were too many employees here, too many prying eyes. Under the public gaze, they walked straight toward each other, then passed by. Charon deliberately slowed his movements, while You Lin seemed to be using all his strength to resist the urge to draw his gun. When they were close enough to smell the mixed scent of sweetness and rust on the human, he slightly turned his ice-blue pupils to look at the other.

“Someone wants to harm you.”

Charon finally found the chance to say this. “Someone plans to hurt you. Don’t go back to your office after 8 p.m. tonight.”

“Someone is preparing to kill you,” You Lin said as he passed him, his hands in black gloves ultimately not drawing the dagger. “Assistant Charon, you were sleeping in the same bed with him just a few days ago.”

As if chatting idly, they just briefly passed each other, then dispersed with the sardine-like crowd of employees.

There were too many eyes around them. Of course, the number of eyes on monsters couldn’t be generalized, but at the low end there were only one or two options, while at the high end there could be three, four, five, six, seven… even tens or hundreds. Even You Lin knew that making a move in a place like this, unless he was truly ready to deal with every monster in the company, was completely irrational.

But the moment they passed each other, he was suddenly hit with a frantic urge to turn back.

The taste of blood filled his mouth.

The world seemed to sway slightly. You Lin looked down at the tiles under his feet, feeling an indescribable dizziness. Fatigue suddenly flooded his blood, then his organs, and finally made his bones feel like they were about to collapse.

He didn’t hesitate for long before turning around.

Like a sailboat tipping to a certain angle, it would eventually sink into the sea with its tall mast, disappearing without a trace. Charon stood out in the crowd, mainly due to his metallic, beautiful long silver hair. But there was no longer any iconic long hair in the crowd behind him, nor any similar figure.

Only a few seconds had passed.

Not just in this lobby, the human realized with near intuition, but anywhere, he would not be able to find him again.

Although he had reached this conclusion clearly and without surprise, there was still some distance to understanding it.

This was the end. You Lin thought, so, what Charon had been trying to say all along was just that simple sentence. It was even his only reason for staying here. And he had just casually replied. He stood怔 in the middle of the lobby, feeling it was too simple, too rash. Simpler and more rash than death.

Therefore, he ended up wasting a lot of time, searching for the AI with his dagger and handgun.

He found nothing.

The human raised his hand and placed it on his chest. Between his fingers and his heart, there was a layer of black gloves, a layer of a suit, a layer of a shirt, a thin layer of flesh, and a layer of white ribs. Each was very light, but together they felt like a thick barrier, and the scar on his palm was so dull it felt nothing.

Every time he killed Charon, those ice-blue pupils became more indifferent. But in the later times, he could hardly feel any difference. The AI was almost just watching him make a scene.

That was the expression of an emotionless “thing.”

When an object that once belonged to you has a new owner, you can certainly blame it, punish it, hurt it, but you can’t expect it to forgive you or repent, because it just operates strictly according to the logic of a “thing.”

Was it enough? You Lin asked. Of course, it wasn’t enough for him.

But to continue to be entangled, to invest such stubborn emotions in an AI that was originally just a possession, was too pathetic. He had never had such a deep obsession even for his own life. To admit that it was just a fanciful dream he had had, and to stop at this moment, might be considered stopping at the right time.

Night had already raised its pupils outside the company’s windows.

Time had unknowingly reached eight o’clock in the evening.

The human slightly lowered his dark pupils.

If he deliberately went to the office Charon had warned him about, the AI might reappear out of a sense of responsibility for him. This was certainly a natural thought—but this thought was only trying to elicit the other’s minimum reaction to “human life,” and was completely meaningless.

After thinking about it, You Lin still dismissed the idea.

His fingertips unconsciously fumbled in his pocket, wanting to find a candy. The gentle outline of his fingertips naturally mapped out candies wrapped in colorful paper in his mind, and then he suddenly felt the sharp corner of his fingertips. He paused.

It was the mints provided in the company lounge.

At night, employees preferred to finish their work early and return to their dormitories, rather than waste time in the lounge.

Walking in the opposite direction of his office, You Lin pushed open the door to the lounge.

At least until now, the lights were still on here. Two drink dispensers stood in the corner, producing a bright red, unknown liquid. On the tables were unopened snacks, looking more like props from an R-rated movie. It wasn’t easy to find mints in this pile of things.

The human took a step into the lounge.

Almost at the exact moment his foot touched the ground, You Lin immediately sensed something was wrong. His pupils slightly constricted, but his ankle had already sunk into the sticky carpet. The monsters—and the humans who had already mixed in among them—were now gradually emerging from the darkness, all in a state of readiness. The door behind him was slammed shut.

“He’s the demon hunter disguised as a monster?”

“Of course.”

The demon with gold-rimmed glasses seemed to be the general manager of this hunter operation. He took a step forward. “If he were really a ghost, he would have easily escaped from the biting carpet. Obviously, he doesn’t have that ability. He didn’t even disguise himself, but you all turned a blind eye to it. You should be ashamed…”

“Then the murders that happened in the company—”

“He did them all,” Jiang Wenbin pointed at You Lin, his tone unwavering.

Then, the demon turned his head again, his voice maliciously lowered, “You believed your companion’s words, didn’t you? Ha, he joined us long ago. He wants you dead as much as we do.”

“He’s not here,” You Lin said softly.

Jiang Wenbin’s gaze swept over, and the brown-haired youth in the corner stood up reluctantly. He cautiously scanned the people around him before saying in a desperate tone, “Uh, although it’s a bit awkward in this situation, Charon did join us. He… he told me, he doesn’t support your various actions. After all, you’ve done so many wrong things…”

You Lin surveyed his surroundings.

Well-prepared, long-planned—this was an obvious situation. Basically all the players were gathered here, as well as no less than a dozen dangerous instance monsters that could be seen at a glance. He probably wouldn’t be able to walk out of this room today.

A hint of gloom flashed in his eyes, but his heart, for some reason, was beating fast. He might have been waiting for this moment for a long time, to be able to be unrestrained, reckless, revealing madness without care, until he burned himself out. Unconsciously, the corners of the human’s mouth curved into an exaggerated, thick smile, a scorching light burning in the small mole under his eye.

You Lin slowly clapped his hands on the spot, tilted his head, his tone laced with cruelty and excitement:

“Do you really think that just by doing this, I can’t do anything to you?”