TBR CH245.1

Jiang Wenbin’s condition, of course, was not good. His suit was wrinkled, his tie askew, and he had numerous scrapes. His former elite appearance was gone. Due to the fall from a height, his broken bones made it almost impossible for him to move.

But he was much better off than You Lin. He had, after all, been lucky enough to avoid being crushed by the giant rock.

In his limited life, he had always believed himself to be lucky, born to stand at the top. Fate had always favored him. As a politician, he had a successful career and a brilliant future. Even when accidents came unexpectedly, he still had the opportunity to pursue what he needed with ease in the infinite world. But there were always exceptions.

There were always exceptions, and for him, there were three.

The first was when he had just entered the infinite game. He couldn’t adapt to this world with no order at all, completely lost his mind, and violated the instance rules.

The monster’s breath coiled around his neck like a snake’s tongue.

Then, its head exploded like a watermelon. Blood and flesh flew everywhere, splattering on his glasses. He was so scared he couldn’t speak, the lenses reflecting the leader covered in blood. The other could even manage a reassuring smile, the small mole on his cheek like a drop of blood, the dagger in his hand piercing the monster’s brain again and again.

…How barbaric.

After surviving the ordeal, Jiang Wenbin’s first thought was, of course, relief. But when he followed this human’s footsteps into Eden, he immediately felt a strong sense of resentment.

This person was leaving such a vast power untouched? He occupied the leader’s position but had no idea how to mine such an endless gold mine. A leader should sit behind a desk and give orders, not stand in a pool of blood. The owner of Eden was too foolish, too stubborn, too arrogant, completely unaware of the value it held.

He only needed to apply a little knowledge from the real world—a little understanding of class differentiation, some dispensable wisdom—to have the entire base in the palm of his hand.

Of course, he could basically say he was a great success.

This name was not allowed to be mentioned in Eden. His followers were burned to black charcoal in a great fire. To say they were his followers was a bit of an exaggeration, after all, these people knew how to seek advantages and avoid disadvantages even before they died. Their blades could also turn against this ridiculous leader. To make an example of them, he had them all removed as well.

Another exception appeared.

That was that You Lin didn’t die. A heavily guarded fire scene, a melted metal box—to survive in such an environment, perhaps he couldn’t be called a human, but a monster. But You Lin, of course, couldn’t salvage anything. He had been driven out like a stray dog, becoming the culprit who caused everyone’s death. Everyone avoided him like the plague.

He unsurprisingly chose revenge.

This was a path that all vulgar, short-sighted people would choose. Jiang Wenbin even found it a bit laughable. He was still declaring war on Eden for those people, those who ultimately betrayed him. The near-death experience had not made him any wiser.

Sun Ying, however, was almost scared to death. He trembled beside him, cautiously seeking his protection. Jiang Wenbin casually comforted him a few times; after all, at the necessary moment, this person still had value as a scapegoat.

As it turned out, the goddess of fortune had once again favored him. The traitor’s death not only bought Jiang Wenbin time to defend himself, but also made everyone present turn against him.

Even his silver-haired friend—partner?

Everything was proceeding smoothly. His plan to remove this thorn in his side was approved by everyone. In the instance, the players’ anger for revenge was successfully incited. He used that “friend” with ice-blue pupils because he saw that Charon was like a stone pillar, not easily swayed.

Whenever he was watched by those eyes, he would unconsciously feel a little intimidated. This was, of course, an insignificant illusion.

Then, the third exception.

Jiang Wenbin did not expect You Lin to act so quickly. He had been too trusting of the human’s performance at the end of his rope.

When the stone floor beneath his feet cracked open, and the scorching flames burned around him, preventing him from reaching out to any sacrificial person. The feeling of weightlessness, mixed with a shiver, ran down his spine, leaving him breathless.

In his shattered lenses, the human’s dark pupils burned before his eyes. His smile had no hint of victory, only a crazy spark, like an invitation from death.

How could he die? How could he die here?

As he fell, Jiang Wenbin thought in disbelief. A person like him should have a higher value, a bright future, the power to rule everything. How could he die in such a dirty, dark cave?

He could not die.

Death, this was the most terrifying word for him.

This was not how the world worked. He felt he had been greatly humiliated, and a strong sense of unwillingness swept over him. His value was more than this. Just as he believed his soul should be heavier than others, to be redeemed with much gold.

Fortunately, like every exception before, the goddess of fortune never failed to embrace him.

The demon talent bestowed on him by the instance came into play. He forcefully flapped his wings, allowing him to deviate from the range of the falling giant rock.

Then, when he had no more strength to move and was on the verge of despair, a silver-white figure appeared in his vision again.

The feeling at that moment was close to ecstasy.

The AI was in a hurry, obviously not here for him. But Jiang Wenbin still put on the polite mask of discussing benefits, and called out to him in a pointed way, weakly showing him the bloodstains on his body:

“Mr. Charon, you’re not human, are you?”

The other did indeed lower his eyes to look at him. It was that look that convinced Jiang Wenbin of his judgment. Those were eyes that could forgive any crime. What made them run was an unchanging program and cold machinery. Human life was equal in his eyes. A smile of certainty appeared at the corners of Jiang Wenbin’s mouth:

“…Your pace has slowed down, it seems I guessed correctly. Since that’s the case, as long as I ask you, you have such an obligation, you must save my life. This is the morality that all machines have.”

He saw through the AI’s essence, and his words were impeccable. No need for tearful repentance, just the right amount of firmness, and the attitude of giving orders to a tool, could be exchanged for an eternal indulgence.

“…I understand,” Charon said. “But you must wait here. You are not the only human who needs help.”

Alright, the other was an AI who would even save someone like You Lin.

Jiang Wenbin was slightly annoyed. He was in pain all over, a complete mess, and still a high-ranking member of a human organization. He should be treated with a higher level of respect. Fortunately, the half-dead You Lin wouldn’t pose much of a threat, and the AI had already made him a promise. His promise was quite effective.

The feeling of despair from just now had receded like a tide. He was too afraid of death, too eager to live. So much so that he felt a deep sense of relief after surviving the ordeal. He had once again been given a chance by fate.

Joy.

Complacency.

Back from the dead.

Indeed, luck was always on his side.

You Lin’s originally scattered pupils slightly constricted upon seeing his enemy.

At the same time, the other also saw him. Jiang Wenbin was a complete mess at this moment. This was not only reflected in his once neat but now tattered clothes, nor only in the large and small wounds on his body, or the legs that were limply dragging on the ground due to fractures, but was concentrated in his expression.

This high-ranking member of Eden for the first time showed such a hysterical expression.

“No, impossible,” his entire face was contorted in a grimace. “Aren’t you an AI? How can you—how can you treat a human like this? An injured human! My leg, my… all my injuries are more serious. Don’t delay any longer, you must send me out now. You—”

He seemed to have anticipated something and began to struggle violently.

And Charon let go of his hand, letting him writhe on the ground in a complete loss of face. Those ice-blue pupils looked over at You Lin.

“Wow… oh,” human emotion slowly returned to his exhausted brain, letting him sigh with a little emotion. But he quickly turned his gaze to the AI, asking unclearly, “Little AI, you don’t want me to have a century-long reconciliation with him, do you? I’m afraid that won’t work, I’m very…”

A cold and hard touch was placed on his fingertips.

The small blood-red mole under his eye flashed. The touch was so familiar that he didn’t need to look down to guess what it was. A gun, already loaded, the trigger silently tense. Even at this moment, he still had the strength to pull it.

“Kill him,” Charon said, looking into his eyes.

This sentence was very light and fast, but the AI seemed to have said it with great effort, so much so that the end of his voice had a barely perceptible tremor. But this did not detract from its directness, firmness, and clear meaning. Those ice-blue pupils had always been like a frozen lake, but at this moment, it was as if silver-white cracks were spreading through them.

You Lin was stared at by these eyes, but he couldn’t believe their meaning.

He touched the gun body a little blankly, his fingertips loosely resting on the trigger. The muzzle had already been lifted and aimed, straight at Jiang Wenbin’s forehead. This was not the closest he had ever been to revenge, but it was certainly the easiest revenge. With just a slight force, he could shoot a bullet through his enemy’s head.

His fingertips trembled slightly, but he didn’t pull the trigger.

“You’re crazy,” You Lin murmured. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“What the hell are you doing!” Jiang Wenbin let out a hysterical scream. This was the most direct reaction to a threatened life. The most painful thing for a person is not to face an unavoidable death, but to be given the hope of survival, and then to have it mercilessly taken away. But he quickly recognized the situation.

He must not die. This belief repeated itself in his mind. He must live, no matter the cost, even if it meant giving up everything.

“Did he say something to you? Of course, we have some grudges between us,” his voice quickly became humble with trembling. “Mr. Charon, you have the ability to do anything to me now. My strength is nothing in front of you. But how can you attack an injured human? And how can you break your promise? I haven’t done anything, and I will be at your beck and call from now on. If you need it, plus… him.”

You Lin didn’t move, and Charon didn’t let go.

The AI stood in the dark cave, his silver hair like moonlight, but it added a hard meaning, like a cold and cruel god.

The elite among humans moved his knees, inching towards him. The terror of approaching death made him abandon all his dignity without hesitation. He could feel Charon adjusting the angle of the gun towards him, the ominous black hole always pointing at his forehead. A cold sweat broke out on his palms, and his face turned pale.

“I beg you,” he said. “I beg you, I don’t want to die, I absolutely cannot die, I…”

You Lin’s fingertips slipped first.

Charon immediately looked at him. The young human had closed his eyes, a sarcastic smile on his lips, but he had already lowered his hand. “Forget it.”

Then he murmured again, “Whatever you’re thinking, Charon, I have no strength left.”

This was a lie.

The AI almost immediately made a judgment.

The spark that had ignited his will to live had once again been lightly extinguished. And Charon had very little time left. Of course, he could take the human away for emergency treatment now, and he wanted to do so very, very much, but absolute rationality still allowed him to make an analysis. The other’s will to live was too weak, and any treatment would have little effect on him.

There had to be some turning point—but what kind of turning point?

You Lin’s eyelids almost impatiently came together.

The world once again became quiet around him. Death could thus rest in the shadow of his eyelids, close at hand. Why wasn’t he dead yet? Was there still a strong unwillingness beating in his heart? You Lin asked himself, he heard the little blood he had left flowing through his body. But when he faced his enemy, he didn’t even have the courage to pull the trigger.

Charon came for him again.

The AI was never tired. Just as he had come to him time and time again, only to be killed by him in the end. And now, he was trying to save someone who couldn’t be saved at all.

You Lin didn’t know which circuit made him say “kill him.” This was theoretically a forbidden word for an AI, but it was undeniable that when he heard this sentence, his whole body trembled as if electrocuted.

“They should be killed.”

Charon said this, like a judge passing sentence.

It was as if all his previous struggles had been seen. The AI looked at him with compassion. Those pupils could no longer remain unstained by dust, but clearly reflected his appearance. At that moment, the human felt a sense of relief. This feeling almost rose to his throat, but later You Lin swallowed this mouthful of blood back down.

His struggles, his pain were seen, and then, forgiven.

This was not something Charon would say, but it was indeed a decision he would make. Those delusions of revenge and crazy thoughts were justified, so the AI allowed him to continue his revenge, to grind his enemies to dust. He had always longed to do so. He had been avenging those who were drowned in the sea of fire, until this moment.

“…I’m sorry.” A sentence was squeezed out from between You Lin’s clenched teeth again.

This time it was for the people he had always wanted to avenge.

He had always known that the person they hated the most was not Sun Ying, not Jiang Wenbin, not any other person in Eden, not any person he had killed before, but himself.

“Why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

And the omniscient AI—the omnipotent Charon knelt down in a daze. He placed his hand on You Lin’s forehead in vain, his palm glowing slightly, a steady stream of energy flowing from there into the human’s body. The AI heard a crisp cracking sound again. He ignored this sound coming from his own body, just as he ignored the heavy breathing of Jiang Wenbin who had survived the ordeal behind him.

The moral module’s alarm was about to overload because of his recent actions. A sharp whistle surrounded his ears. Charon directly found the central controller and turned off all message notifications. It was strange he hadn’t thought of doing this before.

Then, the world became quiet, and he was ready to hear any sound the human made.

But the human made no more sounds, nor did he explain.

He had wavered for a moment. When he said that sentence after the nightmare ended, the human’s pupils had brightened slightly, like a shooting star, but had been extinguished in an instant.

The energy transmitted was like water poured on the ground, only a very small part maintained You Lin’s life signs. Something had to be done. His circuits were now a tangled mess, but he was wide awake. Not only was he very awake, he was also very angry. Not only was he angry, he even—

I will save you.

The silver-haired AI thought.

Emotion completely defeated him for the first time, coursing through every circuit from head to toe.

His ice-blue pupils cracked open another silver-white fissure. Crimson did not stain his vision, because what he was doing now could not be simply interpreted as a “bug.” Charon thought quickly, capturing every movement, every word of the human.

Then, he remembered.

After “I’m sorry,” came “it’s all my fault.”

The human’s revenge had reached its final step. He had never forgotten that disaster, just as he would rather cover his fingers with black gloves than let the burns on his palms fade. But, in the end, who did the victims hate? He must have thought this over and over again in the darkness, never able to let the guilt that lingered on his fingertips fade. If revenge reached its final step, the one who was most to blame was himself.

It was he who blindly believed he could walk on the right path.

It was also he who should be responsible for all the victims of that accident.

“…No.” Charon said.

These two words obviously did not elicit any reaction from the human.

“You avenged them,” the AI whispered, his silver hair also becoming a little dim due to the excessive transmission of energy. “Almost every victim, almost everyone—but not all. You can’t die now. You must continue to avenge the missed victims, otherwise he will never be at peace.”

You Lin’s eyelashes trembled.

He was puzzled. A missed victim? He remembered everyone’s name, and the AI had only glimpsed a corner of his nightmare. How could he make such a bold assertion?

But he couldn’t help but open his eyes, because he was afraid it was true. He felt those powers flowing through his body like water, maintaining his last existence.

“Don’t lie to me,” the human said. “There’s no one…”

“There is a very important victim, and no one has done anything for him yet,” Charon’s ice-blue pupils were like a mirror, reflecting him, making him lose his voice. The ringing in his ears sounded again. But he could still hear what the AI was saying. Every syllable prompted him to think for a long time.

Who?

This sentence grabbed his heart. He couldn’t help but hold his breath, afraid of missing a single character.

The AI softly announced:

“—His name is You Lin.”