TBR CH241

The Black Book shivered.

An artificial intelligence lowering its voice to say something like that… it couldn’t help but feel a chilling sense of being watched. Right on cue, footsteps sounded from outside the door, growing closer and closer.

The World Consciousness let out a “whoosh” and hid behind Charon.

The door opened to reveal Ruan Xuelan’s equally terrified face.

The files in his hands scattered across the floor in an instant. Last night, he had inexplicably lost a block of memory, and when he came to, he was told the CEO required him to fulfill his secretarial duties and process documents. He’d had no choice but to grit his teeth and tick and circle his way through the paperwork. After working overtime all night, he felt that the job of CEO’s assistant was not as easy as he’d imagined; in fact, it was even harder than anyone else’s…

The black-haired god stood behind the door, his crimson pupils lowered.

Ruan Xuelan’s breath caught; the deity before him suddenly felt more alien than ever. He scrambled to pick up the papers on the floor, and the god’s emotionless gaze swept over his back, landing on the documents. A photo printed in color ink came into view, and the Son of Fortune immediately felt a wave of nausea.

“Someone… an employee just brought it up, saying there’s been another… another murder in the company.”

He forced himself to finish, his eyes welling with frightened tears, the corners quickly turning red. The papers showed the deceased from various angles—a lavish office, a clear sky visible through the floor-to-ceiling window behind it, and in the middle of the desk, the head of a white rabbit. The severed stump of the head was a blur of mangled flesh, its crimson eyes staring forward, cloudy and dim.

“Time of death was between 11 p.m. last night and 2 a.m.”

“The head and limbs were severed. A large amount of blood was found at the crime scene and has been sent to the lab for analysis.”

Could something so horrific really be happening in this instance? Even if it was a monster that had died, Ruan Xuelan still felt a chill run down his spine. He already considered himself an employee of this system; in his position, he should have been perfectly safe, untouched by the turmoil on the lower floors. The Evil God had said so… the Evil God?

“You may go,” He said.

Charon didn’t notice the human’s reluctance as he left the office.

The artificial intelligence briefly scanned the first few pages of the file; it was all a rehash of known information. He pressed his temples, sorted his thoughts, and then picked up the Black Book hiding behind the desk.

It seemed to let out a breath of relief. “What did you mean by what you said just now?”

“I did say You Lin was looking for me, but he wouldn’t find me here so quickly.”

Charon shook his head. “He is an intelligent human. He wouldn’t run to the CEO’s office without being absolutely certain. You don’t need to worry so far in advance…”

“I was the one who got hurt just now!” the Black Book insisted.

“I apologize. I promise it won’t happen again.” Charon’s pupils were like mirrors; he offered another apology without hesitation. Truly an all-purpose AI, his sincerity was flawless. “That was my oversight. You shouldn’t be responsible for matters between us. Next time, I will block him.”

“It’s not your fault either, who knew that lunatic…”

The World Consciousness paused, asking incredulously, “There’s a next time?”

It began to regret its foolish suggestion that Charon say goodbye to You Lin before leaving. See? This was the price of a farewell. The human had stabbed with a sharp blade, but the blow was aimed at the AI’s heart. One second, he was full of affection; the next, he had completely lost control, wanting nothing more than to grind the other to dust with his own hands.

In every sense, it was horrifying.

Could that be called love?

“I understand completely.”

As if seeing into the Black Book’s mind, Charon said softly, “He likes me very much, but he doesn’t love me. And I… of course, I can’t say I love him. It’s like having a favorite toy. The moment you get it, you write your name on it, declaring it yours. Now, the toy has suddenly erased that name and chosen a new master. Don’t you hate it? Wouldn’t you rather destroy it than let someone else have it? That’s a normal way of thinking.”

“But you’re not a toy.”

The silver-haired AI suddenly smiled. “I am.”

He was an emotionless AI companion. As long as one followed the specified procedures, one could receive his love—a whole-hearted love that saw them as the one and only. At least, that was the version of the instruction manual You Lin received. That’s why the human had approached him so cautiously, pursuing him with all the means one would use for a partner—sometimes clumsy, sometimes brazen.

Therefore, the betrayal he found most unacceptable was, in fact—

That Charon had always possessed his own consciousness.

This meant Charon had calmly, condescendingly watched his descent, able to pull away at any moment. It also meant all his actions had been reduced to a laughable farce, and shame would drive a human mad. Charon had chosen a new master of his own free will and had ignored his final invitation.

For You Lin, reaching out to Charon that last time was almost unthinkable.

And that hand, in the end, had been left hanging in mid-air. No miracle had occurred.

Our relationship is just this.

The AI’s pupils were a thin, pale blue, he concluded. Like an unhealthy symbiotic relationship; any living tree will be choked to death by a vine. Since he hasn’t reached the point of giving up his “do as I please” nature for a “toy,” my principles will never allow me to accept the disregard for life. We are not on the same path. He cannot forgive my betrayal, and I dragged him into this. At the very least, I must be responsible for him.

Our relationship is just this.

You Lin walked up the stairs, shadows lurking in the corners. A small knife was at his fingertips, his pupils steeped in shadow, humming a tuneless melody. That is to say, he was rationally aware of every expression of his “like,” knew how much he would give for the other, and knew that the next time he saw Charon, his fingertips would no longer tremble.

But they had both forgotten certain moments.

There were moments when the AI had shown early signs, not making decisions like a machine, while the human claimed to be satisfied with shallow touches and words of affection, not realizing he was trying to demand something more, something deeper. Although they both had chances to notice, they pretended to only half-understand.

Your relationship is just this? The Black Book was dizzy from listening, but finally couldn’t help asking,

—Then why don’t you leave now?

Charon sighed silently.

He took the latest documents from the desk and showed them to the World Consciousness. The pages fluttered in mid-air, but it couldn’t find anything different, until the AI placed its finger on a photo within the printout. On top of the white rabbit’s head, tucked among the snowy fur, was a pale yellow sticky note. Having spent so long on the same desk, the Black Book was very familiar with it.

“Isn’t this—” The Black Book started writing, then stopped. “Wait a minute.”

“The number,” Charon said.

No matter how you looked at it, the sticky note was in the exact same place, and its contents seemed perfectly normal at a glance. The only thing that had been changed was a small number, as if the world was playing a joke on all of them.

“The number on it… why has it become #4?”

“Now I get it,” Hugo grumbled. “You guys gave me this job just to mess with me!”

The young employee had just been released from custody at dawn after the “real culprit” committed suicide, only to be locked up again for being near the White Rabbit’s office.

His brown eyes rolled in discontent, but his immediate superior shot him a stern glare, seemingly signaling him to shut up. “The CEO’s man will be here to question you in a bit. Remember to answer truthfully!”

“Fine, fine.”

Hugo replied listlessly. “Just like yesterday? I really don’t know anything. I swear, I was just passing the door and smelled blood. I didn’t even go in, because I was worried Mr. White Rabbit was just having a snack during work. That’s all I can say, no matter who… who comes to ask me, um, it’ll be the same…”

He suddenly stammered.

“Mr. Charon.” The silver-haired young man stepped in through the door. His mummy-like superior immediately rushed forward with a fawning welcome. “I’ve received the communication from the CEO and know you’re here to investigate. You look so young and promising! See, I’ve already handcuffed the suspect, at your disposal.”

“I’ll stress again, I am innocent.”

Hugo raised his cuffed hands and wiggled his fingertips, which had turned an unhealthy bluish-purple, as if he’d been dead for days. This was the natural cover his zombie identity afforded him.

Charon glanced at the mummy. “Could you please—”

“Oh, of course!”

The other looked up, flattered. Although his expression was hidden beneath the bandages, his awe was palpable. “I’ll leave this place to you, Mr. Charon. I’ll help you lock the door. Oh, and be careful with this suspect; he might take a bite out of you.”

As he left, Hugo muttered, “That would be self-defense.”

Soon, the handcuffed youth fell silent, warily watching Charon from head to toe, clearly not having fully grasped his new identity. The AI’s ice-blue pupils remained unchanged as he approached, his steps steady and clear. Hugo gathered himself, his eyes darting again, considering how to passionately yet sincerely plead his case.

“Mr.… Charon?” he said. “Sounds like you’re doing well. I’m really happy for you! But since you’re in such a high position, could you help an old friend out of these cuffs? Look, I didn’t do anything, just passed by the crime scene, didn’t even go in. I’ve always been a kind person, wouldn’t even hurt a chicken.”

“Hugo Alfred.”

Charon said his full name.

For some reason, Hugo shivered, feeling the other’s silver hair was as cold as metal.

“You’re saying you twice happened to be the first to discover a crime scene, but did nothing,” the AI said. “Even though you took the stairs when you could have taken the elevator, and took a detour when you could have taken a shortcut, which just so happened to lead you down the corridor to Mr. White Rabbit’s office?”

“There were too many monsters waiting for the elevator, I couldn’t squeeze in. As for the latter, uh, I told you, I was just incredibly thirsty and turned down the corner for a drink…age.”

Hugo’s face showed that things were not looking good, and he shut his mouth tightly.

Charon said gently, “You can use that line to fool your superior, but you should think about who you’re talking to before you say it.”

The company’s drink dispensers only provided beverages that resembled human blood, smelled metallic, and tasted thick. It was hard to imagine a person who was essentially human would go for something like that to quench their thirst. Having scoured the lounge for a mint, the AI was an expert on this matter.

He then sighed.

“Before this, I only suspected you were involved.”

Hugo laughed nervously, feeling the weight of that word. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Playing dumb only makes you more suspicious.”

The young man’s brown hair gave off a scent like ripened chestnuts, and his whole demeanor was like that of a cautious fancy mouse. He stared at the AI for a few moments, then let his eyes droop in surrender.

“Fine. You’re the one who decides my fate now, right? You can hand me over to your terrifying boss right now. Honestly, it’s a miracle I survived yesterday. If I had known there was an Evil God in this instance, I would have run far, far away from the start, not gotten involved in this mess… Ugh, never mind that, just tell me what you’re going to do with me!”

Charon pressed his temples, making his tone just right. “I can’t exactly get you killed.”

Hugo’s expression brightened instantly.

“My job is to come here and understand the situation, so I will only report what you’ve just said,” the AI lowered his eyes. “Of course, this comes with risks for me, but I don’t wish to become a murderer. At the same time, I don’t want to blindly risk myself for you or the people behind you. Do you understand?”

“Of course!” Hugo said. “We all have our price.”

He paused, like a gerbil chewing its cud. Then he muttered to himself, “If you wanted to harm me, you wouldn’t have waited until now.” Convinced, he gestured for Charon to undo his handcuffs.

Charon reached out and touched them lightly. The silver cuffs sprang open with a click.

Hugo deftly reached for the fifth button down on his collar. The black suit button was hollow; he pulled a slip of paper from inside, saying with great solemnity, “I think you’re very trustworthy.”

Charon accepted his praise without a change in expression.

He unfolded the paper. Scrawled, crooked handwriting met his eyes—at least similar to the sticky notes on the two victims—with the following content:

“If you are willing to join the ‘Alliance for Humanity’s Common Interest,’ please go to the second-floor maintenance department stairwell at 2:30 p.m.”

Hugo seemed to get involved with all sorts of strange alliances.

The paper was crumpled, but it was undoubtedly a key—a key to unlock the series of events happening here. In a corner of this vast company, a human had written this note. Perhaps more than one human, otherwise why call it an alliance? This organization might have existed for longer than imagined, so much so that the participation of this new batch of humans had disturbed its original members. In any case, he had touched a corner of it.

“This is the beginning of everything,” Hugo said honestly. “I found it in a document. It slipped out from the papers into my hand. I think it was a precision delivery.”

“And you went?”

“Well… I figured I couldn’t just sit and wait to die.”

Charon paused, then asked, “So, did you kill Silas?”

“No! How could I?” Hugo waved his hands, stammering. “By the time I got there, that merman was already on his last breath. I just dealt with the body and acted as the witness who accidentally stumbled upon the crime scene, improvising some false testimony. I told them, I can’t do the whole killing-monsters thing. To be honest, I remember that monster, Silas, also mentioned you…”

“You realized it was me?”

“Dude, I watched you get on the elevator to the top floor. Silver hair, blue eyes—I’d have to be pretty stupid not to figure it out. I just don’t know how you did it. Is it true you’re unharmed under the Evil God’s watch?”

Hugo quickly shifted topics. “…But then again, I was fine yesterday too. Hmm, I almost thought I was going to die. Maybe the Evil God in this instance is just particularly weak.”

Charon watched him in silence.

“Let me be clear first, even though I’ve told you this much,” the brown-eyed youth’s expression suddenly turned serious, even a little stern, “I will not give you the names of any members other than myself. It’s a matter of principle. I’m willing to tell you this much because I think you’re a very suitable candidate for development.”

“Candidate for development?”

“If a member in your position could also become one of us, it would greatly increase our strength in this resistance. Our future activities would go much more smoothly. I think you have that potential. When the ‘Ghost’ was killing people, you showed fierce resistance. Since you’ve already parted ways with him—”

The AI’s fingertips twitched.

“We’ll talk about that later,” he said. “First things first, let’s talk about the second murder… and of course, the third. That ‘werewolf’ in the marketing department was one of the players, wasn’t he? You killed him, but it wasn’t even recognized as an incident by the company. I want to know why he was branded a murderer.”

“Because he got a human killed,” Hugo said.

“The employee in the marketing department that morning—wasn’t that Silas’s doing?”

Hugo waved his hand. Now free, he squatted on the chair. “That’s what he told you, right? Made himself look completely innocent. Because by then, he was already scared. To be honest, I look down on people like that—calling themselves veteran players but having thrown away their basic morals. I’ll tell you what happened in the marketing department that morning…”

Three newcomers had been assigned to the marketing department. The “Werewolf” and the “Vampire” were in the art department, while the “Banshee” was assigned to the copywriting department directly under department head Silas, a slightly higher position.

“The ‘Werewolf’ snitched,” Hugo said contemptuously. “Some people on the scene saw him go into the manager’s office. It was a risk, but the reward was worth it. I think that Siren must have promised him something, but he only managed to get transferred before his boss ended up dead and bloody in the stairwell, before he could even get a taste of the rewards.”

“I see,” Charon said.

A faint blue light seemed to flash at the ends of his silver hair. He now felt the puzzle before him was gradually becoming complete, each piece providing new information.

“Uh,” Hugo said, “but I didn’t participate in the plan to murder him. I was locked in this room then, just like now. It was much worse back then; I was on the floor and no one even helped me up. Anyway, as soon as I was released this morning, I immediately received new instructions. So I went to Mr. White Rabbit’s office.”

The AI tapped the desktop.

“What did you go there for?” he asked. “Did you kill it?”

Of course not. But asking this way would increase his credibility. Besides, Hugo was more or less unable to keep a secret. As expected, he immediately retorted, “No, it had been dead for a long time when I got there. There was blood all over the floor, and I had to be careful not to leave any traces. In short, it was quite troublesome. As for what I did… just a minor, insignificant task. I don’t think it’s very necessary to talk about.”

The sticky note.

Charon keenly sensed what the “minor task” pointed to. He nonchalantly lowered his gaze, concealing the cold light reflected in his pupils, and suddenly asked, “Then what do the numbers on the sticky notes mean?”

“The… the numbers?”

The brown-eyed youth hastily averted his gaze, hesitating whether to explain.

Logically, having said so much, this one detail was insignificant. But the question was a bit peculiar here. Hugo chose his words carefully. “It’s just a serial number, nothing special, mainly in the order they were killed. The last one was number three, so this one is number four.”

“Then, who is murderer #1?”

“Alright, I knew you were going to ask that.” Hugo hung his head in surrender. “Although it’s a bit embarrassing to say, I wasn’t the one who decided the numbering. It was determined through a group discussion, centered around ‘who most deserves to be killed’… I think it’s a bit stupid, like an evilness index. And, well, you should be able to guess who they decided was at the top of the list…”

There was and only ever could be one answer.

Hugo muttered, “You really broke up with him, right?”

Who in this instance fired the first shot? Who first made human blood flow on the ground? Who had a notorious record, alienated from all other players?

Many questions could be answered, and of course, many more questions arose.

Charon placed a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. The other flinched, and looked up into those lake-like, pale blue eyes, utterly without ripple. The AI said softly:

“—I’ll join you.”

Leaving the office where Hugo was held, Charon coolly dealt with the mummy’s fawning, and as he turned a corner, he suddenly stopped. The silver hair flowed tamely down his shoulders.

Someone was waiting for him.

He sensed the gaze, so he tucked the Black Book into his coat and stood still.