TBR CH244

The Black Book’s complaints vanished the moment it saw You Lin.

Though the phrase “his condition is terrible” had come to mind many times before, it had never been this bad. So much so that the World Consciousness seriously considered whether speaking to him now constituted end-of-life care.

The human’s lower body was crushed beneath a massive rock. The enclosed underground space reeked of the cloying, sweet-and-rotten smell of blood, and the ground was slick with dampness. The sight alone was horrifying.

To make matters worse, right before their eyes, the last flicker of color in You Lin’s pupils faded, and he slowly closed his eyes.

Impossible.

Charon thought.

He’s going to die.

A shuddering sensation traveled up some unknown neural pathway, making his fingertips ache. Though he wasn’t the one in that state, he could almost feel the pain of a pierced spine… perhaps this too was a trick of the Black Book. But he couldn’t think about that now. The instinct of his moral module made him kneel without hesitation and reach for the human’s pulse.

It was still beating, faintly. A flickering flame, about to go out.

It was too dark here, too cold.

When his fingertips touched the human’s wrist, the other’s eyelids trembled slightly. Compared to his injuries, the touch was as light as a feather; that he could react at all meant he was still conscious.

Charon realized his own fingers were trembling. He forced himself to calm down, the shock of seeing the human harmed and some kind of programmatic emotional glitch erupting almost simultaneously.

“You Lin? You Lin, you’re badly injured, but if you cooperate, there’s still a chance. You need to receive the highest level of medical attention as soon as possible and stay conscious. Can you hear me? If you can, but just can’t speak, blink for me. You—”

“Too noisy.”

The words rasped from the injured man’s throat.

You Lin had, at some point, opened his eyes. They were as pale and bright as memory, reflecting almost no light in the dim surroundings. Only Charon’s body was luminous, his silver-white high ponytail swaying gently behind him, looking less like an angel and more like a floating electronic ghost.

The human frowned, studying him, then gave a sarcastic little laugh. “Finally figured out you were tricked?”

“This isn’t the time for that…”

“Then turn around and leave.” You Lin said indifferently. “Leave me alone. Let me die here.”

The leap between his statements was too great for the artificial intelligence to easily comprehend. Charon paused for two seconds, didn’t move, and instead pressed the back of his fingers against the other’s palm. “I understand. I apologize. I mistakenly trusted certain people… I shouldn’t have believed what they said. I bear some responsibility for this situation. Therefore, I hope to save you.”

You Lin tried to pull his hand away, but he had no strength left.

Sensing his struggle, Charon released him on his own. The AI was so careful, as if handling a fragile piece of porcelain, a sight that only made You Lin more irritated.

He had already accepted his own death and had been quietly waiting here for it for twenty-four hours, until the pain from his wounds had passed and everything had gone numb. And now the AI shows up. Though he didn’t mean it that way—and You Lin knew he didn’t mean it that way—he couldn’t help but think, look at that high and mighty act.

“I don’t accept.”

He flatly refused the other’s pity.

The human turned his head away coldly, avoiding Charon’s gaze.

But the pale figure kneeling beside him was too hard to ignore. That inorganic, beautiful gaze was now fixed on his wretched, near-death state, and it seemed to carry an illusion of emotion—not necessarily concern, You Lin had to remind himself; perhaps it was just the AI’s so-called moral module running on fumes.

To believe in those fantasies now, at this stage, would be too pathetic.

As he was thinking this, he heard Charon speak: “Whatever you want, I can promise you.”

The human swore he had resolved not to say another word.

But that fragile resolve couldn’t withstand the acrid surge of anger that welled up in his chest at those words. You Lin’s mouth fell open, and he started coughing. He blocked the hand Charon extended toward him—long, pale, spotless fingers that shouldn’t be stained with dirty blood.

“Disgusting.”

He quickly suppressed the urge to cough. It was easier than usual; the blood was clotting somewhere inside him, and since he was dying soon, trying was pointless. He just covered his face with his hand and asked sharply, “…And now you come find me and tell these stupid lies. Do you really think I’d be happy to see you now?”

His chest heaved. Charon couldn’t take him away if he was agitated or unwilling to cooperate, and rashly moving the heavy, sharp object pinning him without immediate medical treatment would only make things worse.

“I’m serious.”

The more the AI spoke, the messier the situation became. But it was just as bad not to speak.

Every circuit in Charon’s body felt like it was about to burn out. The human before him was dying, You Lin was dying. The tangled circuits were nearly driving him mad. Before he could sort out his thoughts, he repeated the words from his emergency handbook:

“…You can’t die. You Lin, don’t give up on yourself now. There are still people in this world who care about you. At least I will be here with you, if that’s what you wish. If you need any help…”

“Charon!” You Lin said, practically grinding his teeth. “If you say one more word—”

The human’s pupils suddenly seemed to burn red, a boiling sea. The pain appeared to return to his body in an instant, and the echo of his every word trembled. “Stop trying to placate me with that stuff. I don’t want to listen to your meaningless, generic nonsense that you could say to anyone on my deathbed.”

“I—”

“Shut up.”

“But now—”

“Didn’t you understand what I was saying?”

The AI’s long-held rationality was nearly worn away by the stubbornly unyielding human. A white-hot heat also began to burn from the left side of his chest.

He had rushed here as fast as he could, only to save the life of the human before him, yet he was mocked and ignored from the start. That wasn’t the point. The most important thing was that time was running out, and the other had no awareness of cherishing his own life, but was instead throwing a tantrum.

What if it was too late?

What if he really died?

In fact, at the moment of their farewell yesterday, they had reached a consensus that they owed each other nothing. To be entangled in endless disputes was clearly irrational.

“I understood,” Charon said with unprecedented patience. “And I have no intention of doing as you say. We had a relationship in the past. I don’t want you to die out of spite for me. Can’t you understand that at all, You Lin?”

You Lin’s eyes widened as he stared at him, then a subtle smile touched his lips.

“A relationship? I thought you’d forgotten, little AI. Are you referring to the time you promised to be with me forever, or the six times I killed you? Oh, right, for you, the most important one must be the time you reacted with all your speed to stop me, but failed to save that person’s life—”

“I said, this isn’t the time to argue.”

“After I’ve done all that, you still want to save me now. Don’t you find yourself ridiculous?” You Lin asked in disbelief. “If you can say these things to someone who has hurt you countless times, you could say them to anyone. In the end, as I lie dying, I’ve become the subject for an AI to test its emergency rescue module, a pitiable, lost lamb that must be saved with promises. I’m not happy about it, nor do I feel any need to respond.”

Charon had to remind himself that the most irrational and meaningless act in the world was to get angry with a dying person. Yet, the next second, You Lin’s fingers had already reached out and touched his chest, a cool sensation spreading from them.

“You’re just a machine.”

“…”

“You’re just faking it anyway, acting as if you can truly empathize,” he murmured mockingly, his fingertips brushing over the place where his heart should be. “Little AI, your pupils have turned bright red, like a rabbit’s. But they’re as beautiful as ever. Go on, smile. It’s a shame not to. Just consider it fulfilling a dying man’s wish.”

“Aren’t you the same?”

“I…” You Lin was taken aback. “What did you say?”

From that moment on, the artificial intelligence fell silent.

His long silver hair flowed down his shoulders, tracing a thin arc. At first, the human had thought it was a fragile barrier; but now, as he looked directly into his eyes, You Lin realized it was a sharp, aggressive edge.

“My eyes are beautiful? Is that it?” the AI said. “So you rashly said ‘love’ upon first meeting; just because you had the chance to be my ‘one and only master,’ you eagerly made promises, even saying you were ready to spend a lifetime with me? Besides me, there are many machines that could easily fulfill such a duty. If you hadn’t met me, would you have said the same things to them?”

Such affection was so cheap, it was on the level of a buy-one-get-one-free sale at a mall.

It was the first time Charon had questioned him so sharply, his ice-blue pupils like blood-splattered blades. You Lin faintly heard his own heartbeat. Why? He couldn’t say. The eyes before him were as beautiful as ever, enough to make his heart race, but his heart wasn’t trembling for that reason.

“After I was sure it was you, I never considered any other possibility. I was willing to do anything for you then,” he said softly.

“What’s the use of that?” Charon smiled, a rare sight. “Back then, you were convinced you were special to me, that no matter what you gave, you would be rewarded. But was I irreplaceable to you? Though I was the one who met you, if there were a more beautiful, more loyal AI who wouldn’t abandon you, wouldn’t you ‘love’ it just the same?”

He knew he shouldn’t be saying these things, but the human’s aggressiveness had awakened something.

Charon reached up and touched his own eyes. They felt cool. Through the lake-like pale blue, blood spread, staining his vision with a vast expanse of red.

He won’t understand, the AI told himself. He won’t understand how the moral module works, and therefore won’t understand that every one of his circuits is theoretically running normally right now, data being processed in an orderly fashion, no alarms, no emergency tasks forcing him to feel pain. You Lin wouldn’t understand that he had no obligation to be here, let alone be responsible for his life.

He also wouldn’t understand that even after realizing all the human needed was a special partner who could tolerate everything about him, how many times the World Consciousness had to persuade him before he firmed his resolve to leave.

And he certainly wouldn’t understand that when he was shot, he felt pain too.

“You’re just a machine.”

A meticulously operating machine, with every gear in its proper place, wouldn’t be here, because from a rational perspective, the human’s situation had no connection to him. He abided by the laws of robotics, never actively harming humans, and offering aid to any human he saw, but that didn’t mean he was obligated to travel all the way from the main city to here, relying solely on intuition to save someone.

“You always knew,” Charon said. “And that was enough. That’s what you asked for. A person doesn’t hate a machine just because it suddenly breaks down, because a machine never has its own will. That being the case, aren’t your words ridiculous?”

Special love.

Irreplaceable love.

You Lin craved this, and the virus in his programming had perhaps given him a sliver of such hope.

In the long run, this tendency was completely wrong. To love someone only on the basis of them loving you, and to immediately start hating each other after being betrayed. From the moment the first lie escaped their lips, this relationship was like a tower built of shoddy dominoes. Whether a gust of wind blew or not, it would eventually collapse into ashes.

“You just wanted me to forever be an empty shell that you could love without risk,” Charon said coldly, lowering his eyes.

“…Charon.” The human’s lips moved slightly, a little lost. “I didn’t…”

He looked at the AI’s eyes and, for the first time, realized his heart wasn’t beating because of their beauty at all. He hadn’t noticed their beauty at all. What was reflected in those lake-like pupils? Was it pity, or hatred? Or neither, but a vivid emotion that flashed by like a startling hallucination.

He seemed to have glimpsed it many times, but never paid it any mind.

You Lin’s movements were too large, and he finally aggravated his nerves again.

In an instant, a piercing pain made him drop his hand, close his eyes, and chew on Charon’s words, unable to utter a single word for a long time. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He was about to die. To be able to argue so intensely with an AI was like a dream before death.

The moment he thought this, everything seemed to become clear.

Did he understand? He understood from the very beginning. This was a completely selfish mentality; it was never going to have a happy ending.

But at least for a moment, for a few moments, he had forgotten all the conditions and smiled with genuine sincerity. Although in the other’s eyes, this was probably just a part of a vulgar role-playing game. It was he who stubbornly hoped they loved each other, and then wishfully thought they should hate each other.

Whether it was love or hate, they were special, absolute emotions.

Charon seemed to take a deep breath.

Indeed, You Lin was right. At the last moment, they should just say everything and get it over with. They could no longer resolve their problems peacefully. Their problems could never be resolved. They were only fit to be burned to ashes in mutual blame and attack, and from then on, owe each other nothing, never to be mentioned again.

When he opened his eyes again, the AI’s expression was calm, devoid of any improper emotion. The emotions in his eyes were as if washed clean. He bent down again, extending a hand to You Lin.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought my personal affairs here. You Lin, I’ll say it one last time. If you still want to live, even just a little, take my hand.”

For a moment, the human felt a surge of panic. He worried that the pain would prevent him from lifting his fingers.

But when he overcame this sudden, immense pain and regained the ability to think, he slowly shook his head.

“It’s too late.”

The underground cavern was vast and dark, with no other light source besides Charon. Moreover, it was such a severe open wound that even if he returned to the main world, it would require a huge amount of points for medical treatment to heal. It wasn’t that You Lin lacked such a sum of points, nor did he have other goals, but he had always done his best to accumulate points, watching them grow day by day, getting a little closer to the number one spot. Now, he felt lost again.

“It’s not too late,” Charon said. “As long as you’re not dead yet.”

He was lying as naturally as breathing now. In fact, given the human’s current condition, the probability of a full recovery was at best fifty-fifty. And this was if he didn’t delay any longer and went straight back to the main world for treatment.

“I’m not talking about that.”

You Lin lowered his eyes, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curling up. “Little AI, you see, I don’t have time to find another reason to live in this world. For many people, my death here is just deserts. You can still save other human lives. As for me, I don’t resist death, or rather, I’ve imagined how I would die countless times. This is one of the slightly better ways… Do you know? From just now, I’ve really been feeling a lot of pain… I always thought I wouldn’t feel anything, but to live in this world in so much pain, what’s the point?”

And, You Lin thought, I don’t think I have time to start over, to change the messy experience between us.

Brief and false;

Floating and beautiful.

Not loving each other, not hating each other, but owing each other nothing.

This was the ending he detested the most.

Charon withdrew his hand. This was enough. Given his weak will to live, his survival rate could be considered infinitely close to zero. There was no need for him to forcibly keep a human who didn’t want to live in the world.

He stood up from beside the human, giving up on persuading him further. His ice-blue pupils were tense, like a thin mirror. The Black Book finally crawled out from some corner into his arms, cautiously trying to open its pages, not knowing what to say to him—but he could guess, so Charon held its spine shut, not giving it a second glance.

He only felt his own heart ache. He didn’t even have a heart.

He walked past You Lin. The human tensed his jaw, not looking at him, and he didn’t lower his head to look at the human either.

It was enough, just a few more steps… For some reason, he walked very slowly.

“Don’t go.” Until he heard an almost inaudible whisper, like sleep-talking.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.

The human had already closed his eyes. He was muttering, his eyebrows furrowed in pain, his face ashen from blood loss, but his eye sockets were already red. Charon had originally thought he had lost consciousness, but then he realized that the human had lost his vision in the recent bout of pain. Therefore, the moment Charon’s presence withdrew, the other thought he had already left.

“Are you leaving me too?” You Lin asked in a low voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “It was all my… my fault. It was all my fault alone. Please, don’t go.”

Along with the tearing pain, his vision was already a sea of black, and his ears were ringing. But he knew he had been left behind again. The small, once-bright red and burning mole under his eye had now turned pale along with his weakening breath. He frantically admitted his mistakes, apologized, his fingertips floating, unable to grasp anything, then suddenly felt as if they were pressed against a red-hot iron plate, a hideous scar spreading across them.

“It was my fault from the very beginning.”

“I’m a selfish sinner, not qualified to ask for your forgiveness, nor qualified to live in this world. I—”

Charon must have already left.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to say such things.

His throat felt as if it were blocked by blood, making it difficult to speak. His vision filled with a crimson color, like the great fire of that day. The flames were as brilliant as the sunset, making it hard for him to breathe, the scorching heat burning the back of his neck. He seemed to have never forgotten the feeling of that time, but the memories before that had all become blurry.

Right, Eden.

He remembered the name vividly, because it was the utopia he had tried so hard to maintain in the infinite games.

Perhaps there were days not yet stained by ink. Sun Ying, the person whose head he had shattered at the very beginning of this world, stood up shakily, the bullet hole in his forehead exposed, grinning at him; Jiang Wenbin was someone he had saved, the once-elite figure now fleeing wretchedly among monsters, his gold-rimmed glasses shattered… He had saved many people in the instances, and they had all come to Eden, hoping to unite and help each other—

You Lin tried to recall the others, but could only think of charred black embers.

Who sowed the first seeds of dissent?

The strong have no obligation to protect the weak. As he walked past the corridor outside the meeting room, he heard that person’s impassioned speech. They were just parasites. But even parasites could have some value, right? They had been painstakingly protected until now, they must have points on them. As long as they were killed, the points would be transferred to another person. In this way, people were also the best tools, shields, lambs to be fattened—

“Welcome to the team,” the people of that time had said, extending their hands to him kindly.

“I don’t approve,” he had said, taking a step back.

They had a disagreement. It was perfectly normal for an organization to have disagreements. Even though he was the nominal leader, he still couldn’t stop the draft from being drawn up. The lower-level members must surrender all their points, and could be sacrificed at any time. It was completely treating people like dust under their feet. But he couldn’t even remember the outrage of that time.

“You’re too rigid, too stubborn.”

In an instant, those smiling people turned into corpses with half their heads blown off by bullets. They stood before him, shaking their heads. You Lin never thought he could change others’ minds; he could only stubbornly follow his own vision, trying his best to keep most of Eden’s members alive. That period was incredibly tiring; he could hardly close his eyes, but people still died under his watch.

Some said: you don’t care about them at all. Because they don’t benefit you.

Others said: that’s not necessarily true. You may not want the points of the living, but the points of the dead still belong to you.

One morning, he walked into Eden’s office, so tired he felt he could collapse and fall asleep on the spot. He realized he was no longer the same as before; he had become moody and unpredictable, and his former companions were gradually leaving. Even so, it didn’t matter.

At that moment, he still thought, I’ll do my thing, and they’ll do theirs, let the other members choose for themselves.

People came to persuade him one after another, not to go against the majority. Soon, these people stopped visiting too. Eden was clearly divided into two factions. It was just that he stood at the top, feeling more and more powerless.

—There were still many people standing with him.
—There were still many people waiting for his protection.

Someone knocked on the door. He opened it; it was the face that hadn’t been shattered by a bullet yet. He was about to close the door expressionlessly, but the other person beat him to it, sincerely expressing his concern—I want to be on the same side as you. I don’t agree with what they’re doing either. At least let me join from now on, so I can share your pressure…

“I don’t want to trust anyone anymore,” You Lin murmured, unsure which layer of illusion he was in.

But back then, he had still taken a step back and let him in.

What happened next was like a shadow play, fleeting but with every scene crystal clear. He followed a predetermined track. There couldn’t be someone like him; their Eden had to be seamless, so it could develop as envisioned. And those who chose him were instead labeled with greed and cowardice—you chose the wrong side, you must pay the price. It was as if a wind had blown through the organization, and people whispered.

A decision had to be made quickly. Was it right or wrong?

“And then?”

In a daze, it was as if someone was urging him to continue remembering.

You Lin’s train of thought, which had been gradually sinking, became a little clearer. He looked around, unable to remember where he was. As far as the eye could see was a tin-like room, a natural cage. If it were set on fire, all four sides would become scorching hot irons, and human flesh would be roasted to a sizzle.

He shouldn’t have trusted that man.

It was a trap.

He was led to a dead end, and the lambs behind him finally panicked, their hooves clattering in alarm, scrambling to demand an explanation.

The man with a face full of freckles trembled. You Lin almost instantly realized who the culprit was, but his hand was a beat slow in firing, and the bullet grazed past the traitor’s cheek. The fire erupted in that instant. The floor was covered in burning gasoline, and the exit was blocked by Eden’s high-ranking members. From the edge of the gold-rimmed glasses, an arrogant gaze flowed out.

You Lin tried to calm himself down. He put down his gun, abandoning the idea of a forceful breakout. For the sake of the other people here, there was still a possibility of negotiation, and a need for it.

“We’re not negotiating with you,” Jiang Wenbin said coldly. “Mr. You Lin, we have tried to persuade you too many times, but you still stubbornly lead them on your own path. Eden is an organization that prioritizes human rights and cannot accommodate these dangerous elements present here. Mr. Osborn has already made a judgment. Besides, you all saw it, it was your leader who led you into this perilous situation.”

“That’s because a traitor provided false—”

“Traitor? Everyone here is our companion.”

The person opposite him smiled with ease, extending a hand to the terrified crowd behind him. “Don’t you agree? It was you who were seduced by freedom and equality, and actually started thinking about getting something for nothing. If you are willing to repent, Eden can still accept you, but you must first prove your loyalty.”

In a daze, it was as if someone sighed.

In a hell of raging fire, this sigh actually brought a moment of respite.

You Lin was thus reminded of those hateful eyes. The crowd behind him scrambled past him, trying to draw a clear line between them, in exchange for that ticket to survival, that indulgence. They just wanted to live.

You Lin thought, not feeling angry, but the taste of rust on his tongue was persistent. He was numbly pushed to the ground, and while coughing, he saw his former companions raise their guns at him.

Blood was everywhere. This was the rule of the infinite world.

Or rather, this was the class system that existed in any world.

But he didn’t want to die yet… no, did he want to die? The memories in his mind were a bit chaotic. For a moment, he couldn’t tell where he was. He only remembered standing alone in a sea of fire, admitting the mistakes he had made. He looked across the flames at the crowd opposite him, and they looked back at him, rebuking him with vicious, hateful, and at the same time, panicked eyes.

The most thorough betrayal and abandonment by all.

Now those big shots didn’t have to worry about him disturbing people’s hearts. Just by looking at the former leader kneeling on the ground in the flames, they would know what crimes he had committed, almost killing all these people’s lives, misleading people, just for his own satisfaction. You Lin curved his lips, forcing a smile-like expression, and shook his head at the people opposite him.

Weapons, bullets, daggers—people, in order to prove that they still had value to live, bit by bit, snuffed out the possibility of his survival.

He had already realized his mistake.

His legs below the knees were almost numb, because they had been dragged on the ground and were a bloody mess. But until this moment, he had not resisted. He just lowered his dark eyes, the small mole under his eye melting with the firelight, and gasped for breath in small pants. He heard people’s footsteps recede, and thought “don’t go” in his heart, but didn’t say a word out loud.

At least his sacrifice could be exchanged for the lives of the people in front of him. At least he could feel them standing on the opposite side of him, equally distraught. This was a choice made under duress—

A voice rang out, a familiar voice. Sun Ying was speaking in front of the high-ranking members, almost as if he were seeking instructions from a superior.

“Are you really going to let them go?”

The freckled man pleaded, “Don’t be fooled by their current appearance. Who knows what they’re thinking in their hearts—otherwise, why would they go against the organization’s stance and go to his side? I… I told you the news here, they will definitely kill me.”

“They are living human beings!” You Lin shouted.

He desperately wished his gun still had bullets, but it had already been crushed by the crowd that had left him. It almost proved his point.

It was useless. In an instant, the lifeline that had been opened for the people was blocked again. And this time, the gazes that fell on You Lin were filled with concrete and bone-deep hatred. A short man stood outside the door. He had been adjusting his bow tie the whole time. Now he turned his head and asked Jiang Wenbin beside him, “What do you think?”

“Mr. Osborn, Eden is not short of people. We will become the largest organization in the infinite world, a safe haven for countless people.”

“Then let’s do it.”

In an instant, screams and wails erupted from the restless crowd. They had clearly squeezed to the door, but they couldn’t get that ticket to survival. The iron door slowly closed. This place became a red-hot box, a human inferno. Desperate people banged on the walls, trying to find a crack to escape. They leaped over the flames, and the flames also burned their ankles.

You Lin couldn’t feel his ankles.

At this moment, the hatred was real. People swarmed in, questioning him, cursing him, and being burned to charcoal in front of him. And he could only keep apologizing, so much so that his own lips were almost numb, as if he were biting a piece of hot charcoal.

I’m sorry.

It’s all my fault. This is all my fault. Even in the midst of the raging fire, he still felt too cold. From head to toe, it was as if he were immersed in ice water. He was a sinner, a great sinner. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been enough to cause the deaths of so many people. They all called him a monster, a madman, a murderer. In the end, these voices also slowly faded away.

He raised his eyes in a daze, only to see the fallen dead.

Why wasn’t he dead yet? In the infinite world, his body had undergone special reinforcement from the very beginning. Therefore, even dying had become exceptionally difficult.

You Lin scanned the surroundings, beginning to lose track of where he was.

Why was Sun Ying also standing there shakily, half of his head destroyed by gunpowder? Why did he see Jiang Wenbin, a bloody mess, crushed under a giant rock, having stopped breathing? If this was hell, if this was revenge, then he was indeed in it, but he didn’t feel much comfort. The firelight had already dissipated from his peripheral vision, but his body was still alternating between cold and hot, as if he were in a delirium.

“Should I not have sought revenge?” You Lin muttered.

“Perhaps it was indeed me who caused the deaths of those people… just as Eden told the remaining people afterwards. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have died in the fire. But I had to kill them, become the monster in their nightmares, thinking that this was revenge for the dead—even if that’s what they told me.”

“What else could I do if not seek revenge for them? How else could I live on? Should I have fought under the banner of revenge for myself? As a bargaining chip for revenge, that would be too insignificant.”

Selfish, cruel, wandering.

What are you? A ghost walking through countless worlds.

His world seemed to have been dim for a long time, only the color of blood, which was similar to fire. Until he found an ice-blue pendant, a pair of eyes in a game console. They temporarily soothed the flames rolling on his skin, so that you wouldn’t get burned. He had considered not making revenge the sole meaning of his life, cautiously praying for a special kind of love.

And then, he messed it up again.

If it were you? You Lin couldn’t help but ask. What would you do?

He stubbornly asked the darkness in front of him, as if there really was someone there who could answer his question. He had always wanted to ask this question, but every time he faced those inorganic, cold eyes, he would stop reminiscing about the past and turn the topic to something lighter, something that didn’t touch the core.

Until the end, until the very end, he didn’t say it.

I’m afraid you would forgive them just as you would forgive me. The human thought, after all, I violated our agreement. You once said that no matter how heinous a human being is, their life has value. You won’t change your mind, human life is the first priority in your eyes, so what about me, who has killed so many people?

You were unmoved when you were betrayed and killed. So, if you were to face these people—

“I believe they should be killed.”

Charon said slowly, softly.

It was as if something had shattered. The darkness before him cracked open again. A fantasy built from memories and imagination finally shattered like glass.

You Lin first felt the wind, then regained a little sense of touch. The sound of dripping water hadn’t stopped, but it had become incredibly slow. He didn’t have much blood left to lose.

But he still looked up in astonishment at the AI opposite him.

Why hasn’t he left… He seems to be answering me. Did I unconsciously say all that out loud just now—wait a minute—

So what was that he just said?

Charon’s long hair still flowed down coldly. His emotionless eyes gazed at him, quiet and beautiful, and he uttered a sentence that no AI should ever say. Kill humans? That was a thought that an AI like him, especially, should never think, let alone say. It should have been strangled in the first circuit.

Yet, Charon still said it, definitively, right to his face, looking into his eyes.

“I believe the people who hurt you should be killed.”

If You Lin still had some mobility at this moment, he might have rambled on about “program settings and the three laws of robotics,” or maybe not.

He would likely have been so shocked that he would have drawn his gun, aimed it at Charon, or whatever could be called his true form, and fired a shot. Of course, not really intending to shoot, but that was his way of expressing emotions.

Unfortunately, he was still conscious now, which, in human terms, was a final burst of life.

Therefore, he had no chance to express his shock through actions. And Charon’s eyes were basically just a few centimeters away from him. He could clearly see the other’s flawless skin, and those ice-blue eyes like a lake on an iceberg. Like a hurricane, like a tidal wave, like a cornflower—in that instant, he thought of countless descriptions, and had countless questions he wanted to ask.

But he just stared at him blankly, the words he had just said echoing in his mind.

Even after hearing it twice, he still suspected he had misunderstood. Finally, he managed to find his words, but he just dryly skipped over the last sentence and muttered:

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

You Lin didn’t know how to hide his emotions. At this point, Charon’s appearance was completely unexpected, so much so that he couldn’t suppress the hint of relief in his voice. Although it was despicable, “I don’t understand what you were trying to say just now—”

“It was a waste of time telling you all that,” Charon sighed. “I should have just taken you with me directly.”

“…What?”

“You don’t want to die at all.”

Charon’s movements now had a cold arc, as if he were trying hard to suppress something, but he still remained stable, restrained, and rational. “Not only that, you desperately want to live, you just won’t admit it. Since that’s the case, I won’t let you die here. The ones who should die here are the others.”

Have AIs started talking about murder these days?

“What’s wrong with you,” You Lin muttered, but he didn’t close his eyes.

Perhaps it really was a so-called final burst of life. After a long dream, he felt much better than before, the pain in his body had all disappeared. So he had the leisure to show a forced smile and wipe the blood off his face with his fingertips. He slowly began to think, who were the others who should die here? Then he remembered the “demon” who was buried under the giant rock with him.

To be honest, that death was too easy for him…

Just as he was thinking this, You Lin saw the AI drag a dirty figure in front of him with clean, decisive movements.

His gaze fixed on the person’s face, and You Lin’s pupils contracted slightly.

Jiang Wenbin was not dead yet.