TBR CH250

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Hugo said, his words coming so fast they were almost incomprehensible. “We’ll leave right now.”

He looked like a little raccoon that had been caught rummaging through trash in a residential area, his only thought to flee the scene immediately. The brown-haired teenager grabbed his two companions, one in each hand—they hadn’t yet realized just how terrifying this place was, Hugo thought with a pang of anguish, that was an entire wall of firearms—”Uh, Charon, why won’t this cabin door open?”

“Why not ask me?”

You Lin took a step forward, his tone laced with interest. “You seem quite used to asking Charon for help.”

Hugo could only brace himself and repeat his request, his expression as he uttered the honorifics looking as if he had just swallowed a whole sour orange. “My apologies. Mr. You Lin… would you be so kind as to open the cabin door for me?”

“I would not.”

The human said with a smile, “I’m more interested in how you got in. Compared to the last time you broke in, this ship has been fitted with the highest level of security. If you can bypass that, how could I possibly feel safe letting you leave?”

It sounded like a preemptive declaration for the legal shooting of intruders.

Hugo subconsciously tightened his grip on the pocket watch in his palm, his eyes darting around as he calculated the time in his head. He let out a couple of awkward laughs, while his companions, who he had dragged to the door, finally came to their senses. They realized who the pure white cabin belonged to and the name of the smiling human before them. Before the brown-haired boy could speak again, someone else stepped forward.

“You’re You Lin—yes, I’ve seen you, I should have recognized you,” Irina murmured. “We can’t leave now.”

Hugo wore an expression of utter betrayal, blinking desperately at the black-haired woman. In his agitation, the smooth casing of the gold watch suddenly slipped from his fingertips, its chain spinning rapidly as it fell. His eyes widened and he lunged for it, but he was a step too late. The watch was snatched up by another pair of hands.

Charon’s speed was impossible to follow.

The AI tilted his head slightly, his light-colored lashes lowered as he looked down at the watch. The watch, which had been moments from shattering on the floor, was now held safely. Its face was small and exquisite, its silver-gray hands not moving forward or backward, but oscillating back and forth as if stuck.

A flash of golden code flickered in his eyes. He stated concisely:
“Escape Countdown Pocket Watch. A rare item, originally belonging to the player organization Eden, now in the possession of the independent player Hugo Alfred. Effect: When the standby time ends, that is, after the second hand completes one full circle moving backward, it will instantly teleport the user from a dangerous situation to the relatively safest location. This location must be a place the player has been in contact with, meaning it is within the user’s cognitive range. Hmm… I believe his intention was—”

“I’m so glad you think this place is safe,” You Lin’s smile took on a sarcastic edge. He still hadn’t loosened his grip on the dagger, its tip gleaming with a terrifying cold light. A speck of splattered blood on his cheek, like his small mole, was particularly conspicuous under the lights.

“Haha,” Hugo laughed dryly. “I’m glad too—”

“The watch is currently activated.”
Charon held up the watch face, its platinum-colored hands moving slowly counter-clockwise. “Let me see. Correct, it started timing about two minutes ago.”

He must have thought he’d run into another situation requiring an emergency escape.

Hugo looked as if doomsday had arrived. But Irina emerged from behind him, looking urgent yet forcing herself to express her thoughts properly. “Wait, I mean, if the ship’s owner agrees, we don’t really need to be in a hurry to leave. For us right now… having one more friend is better than one more enemy.”

“But he’s—” someone behind them finally couldn’t hold back.

However, after just half a sentence, the voice abruptly cut off. You Lin had only given him a calm glance, and the person had stumbled a step back. This was a familiar scene to him, his eyes barely showing a ripple of emotion.
“I originally thought you could at least conduct yourselves as guests, but now it seems you don’t understand what courtesy is. Coincidentally, I had no intention of making friends with intruders anyway. The door is unlocked. If you don’t want to die here, get out now.”

The dagger spun casually between his fingertips, a dazzling flash of silver. The slightest misstep would have sliced his own fingers.
“Charon, you’re with me. I have some things I need to get straight.”

Since waking up again, Charon had not been called out in such an accusatory tone. The AI’s eyes flickered. He walked obediently to You Lin’s side and, after a few seconds of deliberation, said softly, “Understood.”

The dagger in You Lin’s hand froze mid-spin.
He hastily averted his gaze, his voice remaining cold. “Keep up.”

The moment the sound of the human’s footsteps rang out, the lock on the door to the outside clicked open. For a fleeting moment, he had wanted to let these people stay, a moment that now felt somewhat shameful. This was a massive spaceship; the unused engine rooms on the lower level alone were enough to accommodate this dust-covered group from “Wanderer’s Home,” and he was confident that Eden couldn’t reach them here. However, it was just a trace of his past, un-extinguished soul acting up.
Since they planned to leave, let them go on their own.

Charon was walking just a step behind him, but You Lin’s pace quickened, never allowing the AI to close that final step. This continued until Charon, realizing something, deliberately slowed his pace.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You don’t want me to save them?” You Lin asked.

“No,” Charon said.

The human silently counted his own breaths, but he didn’t continue.
“Why?”

“You are not responsible for anyone. Except yourself.”

“Then what about you, what do you think…” You Lin’s voice grew quieter. “Do you want them to live?”

This time, the AI’s answer was also direct.
“Yes, I do.”

You Lin let out a short laugh. “You didn’t lie to me.”

They passed the dining hall. A faint commotion could be heard from behind them, but it was distant now. They were now passing the black book’s room, its door shut tight. From this angle, they could see a row of unoccupied rooms where the white was still a dim gray.

“But what am I supposed to do about this,” the human’s voice suddenly turned sharp. “If I don’t do it, you’ll go save them anyway, won’t you? Little AI. You pity them, just as you do me—I know it’s wrong to think that way, and I know you’re different with me. But, do you understand? Can you understand? I hesitated for a long time, and you wouldn’t blame me for it, but when I picked up that badge, the voice that came from the other side—”

The voice that made his fingertips go cold and his heart nearly numb with fear.
Continuous gunfire. The AI’s slightly quickened, cool tone. He was there.

He had used every means possible to convince himself that Charon was an independent soul. He had tried not to interfere with his life, his actions, the secrets he still kept. If it were just the two of them, everything would be fine. But the sudden connection to “Wanderer’s Home” had broken the balance. It made him realize that Charon would stand on others’ side just as he stood on his, and he had no way of knowing Charon’s choice in advance. Although he knew the AI was different with him, it was as if a hole had been carved into his heart all the same.

“Didn’t you already go looking for them?” You Lin said coldly.
He stopped abruptly, and Charon halted as well.
The silence lasted for a shorter time than expected.

He turned his head, his expression unexpected. It was another smile, not one that seemed crazed or strange. The smile played on his lips as he said nonchalantly, “Ah. I don’t even know what I’m thinking myself. Of course I didn’t want to interfere with your actions. But next time, try to let me know in advance. Otherwise, I’ll be very worried about you… Now let’s think about what to have for dinner. I don’t plan on eating potatoes recently, same for cabbage, that soup must taste awful. Right?”

The AI’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He looked into You Lin’s eyes. The human’s eyes curved as he smiled at him. The floating smile obstructed any glimpse of deeper emotions. But he understood the human’s underlying meaning; somehow, he just understood. It was as if he was just remembering something from a long, long time ago.

“Next time, try to let me know in advance” was not a demand at all.
At most, it was a request that didn’t need to be strictly fulfilled. You Lin’s earlier unrestrained emotions, his subtle, boundary-pushing probes, were suddenly and strictly retracted, as if there had only ever been a dormant volcano here, occasionally gurgling and bubbling. But he wasn’t like that. It was just that the earth’s crust was too deep, and layers upon layers of volcanic ash had accumulated.

The human, who once had no qualms about displaying his wantonness and cruelty before anyone, was no longer like that.
He no longer dared to show his madness, but only in front of him.

Why? The intention was good. It was because he cared, because he wanted to show his better side. Afraid that showing his ugly side would disappoint the other person. Worried that if he went too far, he would exhaust the other’s pity; fearful of imposing his own thoughts on the other, he had to act nonchalant, and then even more nonchalant, and maybe he’d be rewarded, or at worst, things wouldn’t get any worse.

“It’s not like that,” Charon said.

“You don’t have to explain to me…”

“It’s true that I met them by chance,” the AI pressed on, heedless. “Before that, I didn’t know they were on the pipes. I just had something to do there, though I didn’t end up finishing it… I’ll have to go back in the next few days. I had no independent plan to negotiate with them, I promise. However, by that time, things had already happened, and I didn’t have time to explain it to you. That’s my fault.”

The human paused, blinking slowly.
“…Is that so.”

Charon’s ice-blue pupils were like a mirror, reflecting his expression. “It sounds a bit absurd, I know. The probability of it happening is minuscule, but Hugo had the help of an item, so perhaps the ‘safety’ calculation included predicting our actions. It’s true. But if you don’t believe me, that’s fine too. I will prove it to you later—”

The AI was giving a perfect demonstration of an explanation that was very difficult to believe.
He must have realized it himself, as even his language, guided by his powerful processing system, was somewhat fragmented.

“No, I believe you,” You Lin interrupted him.
The human’s voice carried a hint of relief, and also a sort of “why on earth did I make such a big deal out of this?” sigh. “I know you’re not lying to me. Little AI, when you lie, you’re always very straightforward, but right now, you sound uneasy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Could that be considered a pattern?

Even with the misunderstanding cleared up, the problem wasn’t completely solved, and they both knew it. The contradiction lay quietly in Charon’s answer, like a stone at the bottom of a stream that time would eventually polish until it shone—
If Charon wanted them to live, why would he let You Lin kick out the members of “Wanderer’s Home”?
Since they had lost their last sanctuary, when would Charon go to save them—even if not this time, what about the next? It was impossible to avoid the topic forever, to just endlessly wait for the hanging sword to split their skulls. For example, if they encountered other humans whose lives were in peril, would the AI sacrifice himself to save them?

That time, in the room at the Integrated Entertainment Center, his long, silver-white hair had formed a cold-hued net, and he lay in its center with his eyes closed, as if he were melting away from this world. He had become like that for only one reason: to save him.
If it were for someone else…

Even just thinking about it, You Lin was nearly consumed by jealousy and fear.
“Let’s go,” the human turned and took a step forward. “Back to the main hall. It should be quiet there now.”

The AI didn’t move, so You Lin didn’t take another step either, not until he heard Charon say softly, “Actually, I’m very scared.”

“What?”

“You still haven’t told me why you picked up the badge back then.”

“…”

“You unlocked the door just now. You had already considered it, and the final decision you made was to let them stay.”

“…”

“Why did you change your mind again?”

“Don’t say any more.”
You Lin’s lips finally pressed into a thin line as he looked over in silence. His dark pupils trembled imperceptibly, like a cold flame.

Of course, you can see it, Little AI. I know I have no secrets from you, the human thought. But before you say it so bluntly, could you at least consider my feelings? I am completely different from the person your memory wants to save. Besides that, what else are you afraid of? Are you afraid that the person you saved is a cold-blooded, cruel man, a man who not only forces you to be selfish too, but also still sees you as a possession, forbidding you from saving anyone but him?
I’ve already tried to restrain myself. I know this is wrong. I don’t want you to see through my nature like this.

The human said in a low voice, “I was just being petty with you just now. I’ll let those people come back. I’ve thought it through. I don’t actually want them to go to Eden to die.”

A lie, he told himself coldly. You can’t change. You don’t want him to see you that way. That’s the only reason you’re doing this now.

“That is what I’m afraid of,” he then heard Charon say. The AI leaned down, some of his cool, long hair falling onto You Lin’s collar, another part brushing against the human’s skin with a light touch. He sighed. “I’m afraid you make decisions because of me. I don’t want you to carry those shackles. AIs don’t understand humans; I don’t know you as well as you think, and I certainly don’t trust those people from ‘Wanderer’s Home.’ So I wanted to wait for you to decide for yourself. But… there are too many other factors. I’m afraid you’ll make a decision that doesn’t come from your own heart.”

“My heart?”
You Lin took a step back, his throat feeling dry. “It’s my own fault for not being able to make the right choice. I was wrong. And I know clearly what’s right. In this situation, talking about this is a waste of time.”

“Between the two choices, I’m more afraid of you choosing this one.”
Charon looked down into his eyes. “I’m afraid those people will hurt you. Even if they do nothing, you will feel pain. I don’t understand, and at the same time, I have no interest in what kind of people they are. You are more important to me than all of them combined.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
You Lin’s knuckles curled, subconsciously wanting to escape the topic.
Charon was always pushing him. There were always times when the AI would gaze at him with those lake-like eyes, the lake’s surface drawing closer and closer, as if the sky itself was tipping over. And he was like a traveler dying of thirst; no matter how close that lake was, he couldn’t possess it, couldn’t touch it. What was missing? He was willing to make any possible choice for it, to change everything about himself, but the lake’s surface remained placid and unruffed.
So, to prove his sincerity, could he frankly be a coward, a madman?

“Fine,” You Lin forced a smile, wanting only to be free of this topic. “I did want to kick them all out, right from the start. I just had to put on a show in front of you… to have gotten this far, I guess it’s barely passable. This is the absolute truth, no matter what you see me as. I was wrong, wrong from the very beginning, but, Little AI, you weren’t wrong in what you thought. This is the only kind of decision I can make.”

Charon was still watching him quietly.
“I understand.”
His back was against the wall, the AI before him. “You think I’m demanding an ideal answer from you.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I want to know, what am I to you?”

Ah, that question. You Lin relaxed, a rare occurrence. To say love seemed too frivolous; to speak of other emotions felt too flimsy. But there were clever ways to put it, the human thought with relief, his chest rising and falling. “You are an important person to me. So, I don’t want to disappoint you. I want you to be with me, but I don’t want to tie you down. If I make the wrong decision, you will correct me, tell me I’m wrong—”

“You’re wrong.”

That was a phenomenal on-the-spot application. As You Lin was thinking of how to respond, the sky before him suddenly tipped over, bringing a cool, ice-blue rain that fell on his neck.

The AI pinned him against the wall, confining him to a tiny space, then slowly bent down and buried his head in the crook of You Lin’s neck. Those beautiful eyelashes pricked his skin, slightly ticklish. The human froze. They weren’t lovers, at least not in this moment, but his ears might have flushed red in an instant, and suddenly everything that had just happened didn’t seem like such a big deal. Charon had an independent soul; of course he couldn’t treat him as casually as he had in the past.

Charon slowly let out a breath.
It was difficult for him to describe his emotions at this moment.
So he simply gave up on trying to sort through the tangled mess of chaotic feelings. At least he knew the answer to this question better than You Lin did.

The AI said softly, “First, tell me, are you willing to exchange your highest chip for me?”

It was a strange metaphor.
But the human still understood. “Of course,” he said without hesitation.

“Then, I will only say this once,” Charon said. “Listen carefully. I will never betray or leave you. This heart only began to beat because of you, so I will be wholeheartedly—if the latter refers to the data processing center—I will be that way with you. I don’t care at all whether you’ve made the ‘right’ decision. I will ignore all your mistakes. I believe you, and that doesn’t trouble me. Furthermore, I promise not to go anywhere without your permission, nor will I rashly put myself in danger. Anywhere, I will protect you by your side.”

The human’s pupils suddenly shrank slightly.
“Never betray,” “wholeheartedly,” “ignore all your mistakes,” “anywhere”…
So familiar.
Every phrase had once come from his own mouth, but it was completely different from the words he’d just spoken.
That time, in the ruins, before he had found Charon.
He had asked Ruan Xuelan precisely that:
“What must I do to possess a being that will never betray me? What must I do—to make him be wholeheartedly devoted to me, ignore all my mistakes, and even protect me by my side anywhere? I am willing to pay a higher price than anyone, but why is it you?”

“How could you—”

“Do you remember now?” Charon straightened up and made a hushing gesture.
A hint of a smile touched his voice as he said softly, “I hope that you will, at the very least, hold me to this standard.”

When You Lin returned to the main hall, his emotions had returned to normal.
He had nearly broken down in front of Charon. But speaking his true thoughts—even though they were not fixed, often contradictory, and didn’t even count as choices—made him feel much better. He couldn’t make a choice, because behind every choice, there seemed to be a pair of imperceptible eyes.

“I can’t…” You Lin covered his eyes with his fingers, the world before him fracturing into pieces, “…repeat the same mistakes.”
This was perhaps his truest choice.

The main hall was predictably quiet, his footsteps echoing emptily. The members of “Wanderer’s Home” had probably all left. The thought had just formed when it was proven false. The group of them was still standing by the entrance, with a servant robot occasionally gliding up to them to bid the guests a cordial farewell. The scene was somewhat awkward. From a distance, Hugo saw them. The teenager raised his hand high, standing on his tiptoes, looking very anxious.

You Lin’s fingertips tightened for a moment, but only Charon noticed.

“This is a private residence,” he said.

“We won’t overstay our welcome,” Hugo said. “It’s just… uh, we just held a vote, and we think Irina was right. As artists of the city and key figures in trade, we shouldn’t at least forget to be grateful. So we decided to wait for you to come back and then thank you properly. We don’t have many valuables on us, but if it weren’t for you and Charon, we would have died like canned meat in the high-altitude shacks, so you can ask for anything you want in exchange.”

Irina sighed at the side. “As Hugo said, we have nothing besides a few wandering artists and compressed biscuits. Both of those things are pretty useless here.”

“What about that pocket watch of yours?”
The moment You Lin said it, Hugo’s face took on an “Alright, I knew it” expression. He reluctantly unwound the watch chain from his fingers, looking a little reluctant to part with it. But they had clearly already discussed it. The watch didn’t belong to Hugo alone, but to their entire group. Losing the watch meant losing another key item, and some showed expressions of reluctance, but no one voiced any objection.

As he held the watch out to the human, You Lin didn’t take it.

“They’ve learned to do quick assaults now,” Irina shook her head. “If the watch could still save our lives, then as much as we’d regret it, from the group’s perspective, we couldn’t just hand it over. But going forward, I’m afraid the watch will become less and less useful. Rather than letting ‘Eden’ take it, it’s better to leave it here.”

You Lin gave a strange smile.
“In my hands?”

“…Yes, in your hands,” Irina adjusted her glasses. “I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier. Mr. You Lin, I’ve seen you before, though you might not remember me. Actually, it was my father who often mentioned you to me, and that was a long time ago.”

You Lin didn’t speak. Irina paused for two seconds before continuing:
“Back then, he and I were both still in ‘Eden’.”