TBR CH243

By the time night fell again, Charon realized the human had vanished.

A full day had passed.

Twenty-four hours ago, the AI had left a final warning. His mission complete, the silver-haired AI had stepped into a corner of the company building and, as the last corner of his coat dissolved into the void, not a single eye had observed his evaporation. Only the Black Book harbored doubts.

“Are we really gone this time?” it asked, worried.

Given that they were now standing on solid ground in the main world, the Black Book’s concern was entirely unfounded.

Charon retracted the fingers that had torn open space. A flash of ice-blue light at his fingertips illuminated the surrounding furniture. He had returned to his starting point, within You Lin’s residence—a trophy from a past victory over an enemy. The instance wouldn’t end until tomorrow.

Here, it was silent, everything veiled in the soft darkness of a tomb.

Without much thought, he pushed open the cabin door and descended the steps.

The main world at night was a blaze of lights.

The wealth of past worlds was meaningless here; everything was decided by points. Some players hoarded points, calculating over and over the time needed to realize their wishes; others assimilated, indulging in pleasures beyond their wildest past dreams. With enough points, you could ignore the rules, even buy a spaceship for a home.

The entire city was designed in a ring structure, fully equipped with shops, restaurants, and entertainment facilities to meet every need of the infinite game’s participants. These establishments ran 24/7, maintained by robot waiters.

The closer to the inner ring, the richer the resources, and the more points it cost to live.

The AI lowered his eyes, making his ice-blue pupils less conspicuous. He crossed several streets, drawing nearer to the city center. Tucking the Black Book under his arm, the silver-haired AI finally entered a skyscraper and pressed the button for the top floor.

They began to ascend, floor by floor.

When the elevator doors slowly opened, the Black Book smelled the fresh scent of grass and trees, but before it was a red carpet, not a verdant forest; soon it smelled the salty tang of the sea, washing over them like a tide; then a mixture of rose, vetiver, and fig tree. As a robot waiter approached, Charon touched its forehead.

The alarm on its brow flashed once, then immediately turned green.

“This is the main city’s entertainment center,” Charon said, “and the closest point to the ‘base.’ It’s high enough that you can see the outline of the control center through the glass windows. Also, the control center’s trash is transported to this building weekly via a track system, to be processed with the entertainment industry’s waste… That’s all I know.”

The robot waiter glided slowly before them, making no sound on the soft carpet. This was a massive entertainment complex, and besides it, dozens of identical waiters moved through the intricate system of rooms.

“Wait, you said that’s all you know?”

“When I was ‘scrapped,’ most of my data was deleted.”

Before the Black Book could ask further questions, the AI casually pushed open a door and pulled the waiter inside by its arm. The robot turned slowly, trying to go back the way it came, but its forehead met a solid door panel. Charon bent down and snapped its neck, his ice-blue pupils glowing faintly.

The Black Book watched, dumbfounded.

The back of the waiter’s neck was forced open, exposing its energy chip.

“Correction: now I understand the entire structure of this building.”

As he swallowed the last bit of light from his fingertips, Charon said this.

You Lin gritted his teeth.

A tearing pain shot through his left leg, making him fire two quick shots into the shadows, and the double row of sharp teeth loosened slightly. He slammed the butt of his gun into a pair of glowing green eyes. The lizard-like monster recoiled in pain, but then a sharp, needle-like pain pierced his arm. A row of steel-like teeth had fully sunk into his flesh.

He pried them out one by one with a sharp dagger, leaving a bloody mess.

It was almost midnight. The humans and monsters who had set the trap hadn’t expected You Lin to be so tenacious. In a situation where he should have been crushed, he had somehow survived until now. Not only was he still alive, but he had managed to injure more or less every other employee present. To the point that when the human stood, breathing raggedly, in the center of the encirclement, no one dared to approach him for a while.

“You bunch of trash, he’s at the end of his rope!” Jiang Wenbin clutched his injured left shoulder and shouted. “Stop cowering! Don’t you want to do a service for the company, seize this chance to get promoted?”

A pale smile flickered in You Lin’s pupils.

He shakily gripped his gun again, the corners of his lips curling up. He even had the leisure to hum a tune he had learned from somewhere. Whenever he hit a stressed note, someone in the surrounding circle would cry out in pain. Blood flowed from others, just as it continuously flowed from him. He swallowed a mouthful of bloody saliva, finding the scene terrifyingly familiar.

It was because it was so familiar that the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curve upwards desperately.

“Monster.”

You Lin tilted his head, the tightly held gun muzzle sparking with another bright flash. “You are, and you are too—oh, and you. You all really think of yourselves as monsters? Not long ago, you called me that.”

“Don’t listen to his nonsense.” Someone couldn’t help but glance around, swallowing nervously. “He’s the only human here!”

“Ah, I’m so honored.”

You Lin’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “I’m glad you have such an understanding. The silver bullets for exorcism used on you were not wasted at all.”

The human knew his end clearly. Even now, he could still make nonchalant, sarcastic remarks.

The others present were even more hesitant than him. Would the “Ghost” really die? Would the name that had remained unchanged on the leaderboard for ages really be erased? Did he have other escape routes, would he suddenly go berserk and cause them heavy losses?

You Lin’s bullets were almost gone. He shouldn’t have fired so many pointless, purely emotional shots during his pursuit of Charon. But even at this moment, looking back at his mindset with a sense of absurdity, he found he didn’t regret it much.

But even if he had ammunition to spare, it would only slightly prolong his desperate struggle.

At some point, every breath had become thick with the taste of rust. This wasn’t a new wound, but an old scar that hadn’t fully healed. Charon’s ointment had only treated the surface bruises, making it look less severe, but the suffocating sensation of his neck being torn still replayed itself relentlessly.

It was rare for Jiang Wenbin to have convinced all the players present and gathered all the monsters in the instance. He always had a way with words, and now he even had the demon’s power of suggestion. You Lin didn’t need to think hard to know what story he had told them, nor did he doubt how those hateful eyes were incited to aim at him.

He had drawn the worst card.

From the moment he stepped into this lounge, the outcome was set.

Was he afraid of death? You Lin suddenly asked himself introspectively. The answer was no.

He seemed to have lost his last reason to live in this world. Of course, no one expected him to live either. Both humans and monsters saw him as an outcast. He had no companions. Even if he had thought for a few moments that he did, his uncontrollable neurosis and madness had turned it all into a delusion.

Even though Charon wasn’t standing with them.

Even though what Jiang Wenbin and Hugo said might not be the truth.

But he no longer cared. The outcome was the same. Whether the AI with ice-blue eyes had more secrets or not, he had given up on him like everyone else. The only difference was that Charon adhered to the AI rule of “never harm a human,” so of course he wouldn’t participate in the siege against him here. The AI sometimes showed a hint of human-like emotion, but most of the time, he exuded a mechanical stubbornness, coldness, and rigidity.

…Thinking optimistically, it was better to reserve his vulnerable side for an ignorant machine than to expose it to humans.

You Lin slowly blinked.

He had only one bullet left in his handgun.

Alright, even if he had come to the realization that he ought to die, he was still arrogant and stubborn enough not to admit defeat. He would create chaos, incite panic, and until the very last moment, he would do his utmost to retaliate against those who had betrayed him. Of course, in the end, the one who would be shattered to pieces, with no bones left, would only be himself.

He took a step back.

This was the subconscious action of a cornered desperado. The human’s face was terrifyingly pale, he was covered in blood, and he couldn’t even hold his gun steady. It slipped from his fingertips and fell into the pool of blood on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, but of course, it was too late. This bullet could no longer pierce anyone’s body.

As expected, the demon adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and walked towards You Lin with satisfaction.

“We are the ones who win in the end,” he bent down, admiring You Lin’s face contorted in pain, and stomped his shiny leather shoe hard on the wrist that was trying to raise the gun barrel. “Because we consider the interests of most of our companions, and you? You’re just a traitor to your own kind, a selfish…”

A gunshot rang out.

The demon’s reptilian pupils trembled, and he subconsciously wanted to retreat. But he quickly came to his senses, understanding that it was just the human’s last desperate bluff, and that no bullet could penetrate his body now, and that the other had lost all ability to counterattack.

He twisted his lips into a sneer, and was about to continue speaking when his peripheral vision suddenly caught the horrified expressions of those around him.

…What?

The words about to be spoken from his throat turned into a gurgling sound.

“Did I say?” You Lin’s laughter floated up lightly. He could still laugh. The sound, sharp as a whistle, almost tore their eardrums. Suddenly, his feet found no ground. Jiang Wenbin panicked, trying to step on solid ground, but what erupted from under their feet was an even more brilliant firework. The heat of the explosion swept over his legs, as if a thousand needles were simultaneously stabbing into his marrow. He stretched out his arms, trying to grab something, but the feeling of weightlessness entangled him like a ghost.

“Nothing is more fitting for an ending than an explosion.”

The human announced solemnly.

With his last bullet, he had completely ignited all the remaining ammunition on his body.

Even the monsters around him were scrambling to get away as fast as they could. The lounge floor burst open. The molten metal, broken rocks, and the two at the center of the explosion were instantly engulfed in smoke. Jiang Wenbin’s face was pale; he realized he was falling, and below was a bottomless abyss.

The lounge was already on the first floor of the monster company.

No one had expected that below it was a pit so deep you couldn’t see the bottom.

When the smoke cleared, the once-aggressive besiegers could only gather around the edge of the deep pit, looking at each other in dismay. When they looked down, they could no longer see You Lin’s figure, only a few hard, giant rocks that had originally formed the ground were still within their sight—that’s right, the ground had completely collapsed after the two fell.

To be completely buried under a mountain of heavy stone slabs falling from this height meant there was no possibility of survival.

The human players present stood on the edge of the crevice, swaying, their spines chilling at the thought of that慘狀. The monsters, however, seemed unfazed. The company’s executives even couldn’t help but show a look of joy.

The troublesome demon hunter was finally dealt with, and the sacrifice was just a newly hired demon. This was not too high a price.

The most important thing was that the company could continue to operate and prosper.

The deep pit underground was originally a place to bury kitchen waste—that is, human corpses. They brought new stone slabs to cover the large pit in the lounge, washed away the bloodstains near the pit, and completely erased all traces of existence. The surviving players barely made it through the last night in this absurd instance, and achieved good results of promotion and salary increase before the instance settlement.

When the morning sun shone through the glass windows the next day, people came to life again.

They logged out of the instance, received their point rewards, and returned to their residences in the main world, still shaken, using hot water, books, or junk food to numb themselves, thankful that they had not taken an extra step and become one of the慘烈遇難者.

Yes, the sun rose as usual. As it always does.

Charon was invading the city’s permissions.

Using the word “reclaiming” would perhaps be more appropriate. Repeating this action required a considerable amount of energy, so before setting off with You Lin, the AI’s original decision was to reclaim the Evil God from the previous instance and then use the increased energy to retrieve the information stored in his floppy disk. This process was both time-consuming and required great effort to avoid being detected by the system.

The AI spent a day and a night to fully restore his control over the city’s skyline.

He and the Black Book were now in the highest room of this skyscraper. The floor-to-ceiling windows were spotless, as transparent as if they weren’t there. This was the only place in the entire city where one could barely see a corner of the central control room.

The World Consciousness looked on with admiration at their achievement. The dark sky was as beautiful as a painting, dotted with thin clouds. From the highest point of the main city, the scenery was exceptionally pleasant. Charon opened his eyes and also looked out. Those ice-blue pupils swept over the floating lights without a trace of emotion, leaving no mark.

Until he suddenly fixed his gaze on a certain direction.

“What’s wrong?” the Black Book asked blankly, also looking in that direction.

It had to be said that the spaceship You Lin had inherited as a trophy was indeed expensive, and it was also located in a prime location.

Therefore, looking down from the floor-to-ceiling window, one could see the shadow of the spaceship hidden among the woods not far away. But the World Consciousness had not paid much attention to it just now; it was focused on admiring the sparkling buildings, ignoring the shadows in the city.

“He hasn’t come back yet,” Charon said.

It was already late at night. The spaceship spread its arms like wings, but it only cast a deeper shadow in the gloom. Not a single window was lit; everything there was silent.

“Although the instance ends today, what if he wants to stay a little longer?” the Black Book tried to explain this phenomenon, but Charon stared at the building for a few more seconds without moving, then pulled it down from mid-air. His fingertips condensed an ice-blue light, which was still bright in the already brightly lit room.

“You promised this time you were really leaving!” the Black Book tried to argue.

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t… okay, you really didn’t.”

The World Consciousness drooped its pages in dejection, the small words trailing off like a grumble.

A door reappeared in the empty space before them. Just as he had left the instance world, this door could also function to let him return.

Charon didn’t hesitate. Those ice-blue pupils were as sharp and clear as a blade, and he stepped straight through the door. But when his feet landed on the pure white corridor of the company again, he paused subtly.

Perhaps it was just a gut feeling.

An AI shouldn’t have intuition. Any judgment he made was based on a comprehensive analysis of various elements of his surroundings, ensuring foolproof accuracy. But after gaining emotions, he had had many glitches. Perhaps this was a misleading thing called “intuition.” Humans are often troubled by unnecessary illusions—

“Cha…” a familiar voice hesitated, calling out to him, “Charon?”

When he turned and saw the brown-haired youth, Charon’s heart suddenly sank heavily.

Hugo looked very uneasy. He was wringing the corner of his clothes, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to say himself. Until the AI couldn’t restrain himself and violently pinned him against the wall, his voice colder than ever before, asking, “What are you still doing here?”

Hugo’s pupils slightly constricted, he could hardly breathe.

And Charon continued to ask without stopping, as if he already knew the answer to the previous question:

“Where is he?”

The good news was, he no longer felt pain.

You Lin thought, the bad news was he didn’t know how long it would take for him to die.

He was in a daze now, and there was almost nothing to see here anyway. At this point, his mouth was full of the taste of rust, and his whole throat felt like a rusty iron pipe. If he had a candy to suck on, things wouldn’t be so bad. When he was bored, he imagined Jiang Wenbin being crushed under the stone slab, his once-impeccable demeanor turned into a pile of mud. This thought didn’t bring him much comfort; instead, it made the two legs that had completely lost sensation under the rubble ache again.

They say that before you die, you see your past flash before your eyes like a revolving lantern.

You Lin waited for a long time, but the slideshow hadn’t started yet. Instead, he heard footsteps. The silver-haired AI appeared in his line of sight, those ice-blue pupils exactly as he remembered. He laughed at himself. This was a dream he had concocted before dying, so of course it wouldn’t be any different from his memory.

But he didn’t particularly want to have such a dream in his last moments.

This was just a pre-death revolving lantern, it was fake anyway, so he could do whatever he wanted.

Therefore, when Charon bent down, that is, when the dream, as You Lin perceived it, approached him, the human put on a look of complete unwillingness to see the other’s face and simply closed his eyes.