TBR CH269

A powerful force restrained the System.

Charon turned sideways, his black hair brushing through the debris of energy on the floor, like a clump of wet seaweed in the ocean, without disturbing any of the whirlpools. He held the hand You Lin offered him while using his free elbow to press against the nearest control console. With a swipe of his fingertips, a long string of numbers immediately flowed across the screen.

“What are you doing—” the System questioned in a loud voice.

Although at this moment Charon looked very much like the final boss in a storybook, he had none of the bad habits of explaining his plan at length. Faced with the question, the AI looked completely indifferent, not even lifting an eyelid. Instead, it was You Lin who opened his arms, blinking his eyes.

“Come on, you’d better hurry up if you want to talk about the lessons from your failure.”

“What are you talking about?”

The System struggled. These stones were scattered on the ground, and the energy they gathered was like threads, firmly binding it in place. Even if it broke free from one batch, another batch would immediately attach itself. The ice-blue source stones flickered continuously around the black sphere of light, like blue morpho butterflies flapping their wings. “Don’t think you can trap me with this kind of thing, and don’t try to scare me. If that damn Black Book really sent its distress signal to other worlds, then the entire central laboratory wouldn’t be enough for it. If you’re not bluffing, it means you’ve reached the end of your rope…”

Charon glanced at it coolly, still with no intention of speaking to it.

The AI practiced energy conservation, especially when bound by the “Evil God” image he had artificially created. That pair of crimson pupils just glanced emotionlessly, and it was as if thousands of malevolent intentions were surging. You Lin stood behind him and couldn’t help but pat his head. The seaweed-like black hair brushed past his fingertips, and he seemed to feel a pulling sensation. The AI didn’t turn his head, but he paused and gently rubbed his palm.

Why is he so proactive now… You Lin had to persuade himself for a long time before he took his hand down.

“Is it almost time?”

“Hmm,” Charon lowered his eyes and entered the last string of characters.

This kind of conversation with no head or tail was enough to drive the System mad. What was almost time? What was about to be hurried? Everything was happening in front of it, yet it couldn’t be stopped. This was simply terrible. Just as the System thought this, its thoughts jumped again, and it quickly sensed if there was a problem with the Black Book. Fortunately, the other party had not yet broken free from its restraints.

Unconsciously, You Lin approached.

It was the first time the System had sized up this human. He looked—not particularly special. His dark hair was slightly curly, tucked behind his ears, and there was a small mole under his right eye. This was nothing unusual; there were a thousand, if not ten thousand, humans with moles. A cold smile played on his lips. As he approached, it seemed he had no particular purpose. The System wished he would come closer, even closer, close enough for it to struggle and grab him as a hostage.

But he stopped very precisely just outside the maximum range of influence the System could exert.

Charon couldn’t help but raise his head again. “Be careful.”

He was watching him from behind. You Lin could feel a force like a ripple spreading from the glowing blue light on the ground to his feet, protecting him just in time. The corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curve up even more. He waved his hand cheerfully. “Don’t worry, you do your thing.”

An ordinary human.

He was neither a chosen child of fate, nor did he have any connection to the apex of fate in this world. That he knew Charon, he had to thank its “matchmaking.”

“Are you very unconvinced?”

You Lin leaned against the table behind him and took a deep breath. “To be honest, I also find it a little incredible. How could a task like saving the world have anything to do with someone like me? Even if I just wanted to make this world a little better, it’s easy to mess things up. Before I came here, I thought it was incredible enough that my life was destroyed by a speeding car in my twenties. After that, for a long time, I thought the best ending for me would be to die with some monster.”

“I’ll blow it up,” he made a gesture. “If conditions permit, I’ll have a mint candy before I die.”

Half of the human’s face was submerged in darkness, his pupils looking dark and bottomless. Had he been hiding in the shadows all this time? It had actually been so careless as to believe the voice on the broadcast and not realize that the owner of the voice was just two or three steps away from its feet.

If it had killed him then—

“A human like me has no value to you,” You Lin turned his head almost imperceptibly, the outline of the AI at the edge of his vision. “At most, a little more difficult to deal with than an ordinary person, but if you get serious, just an ant that can be crushed at any time. Not only do you think so, that black book probably thinks so too, so I don’t mind, I don’t care at all.”

Does the candy in my mouth need to be a little sweeter?

Should the burning sensation on my skin from the explosion hurt a little more?

The relics left by the people he killed, the house full of old decorations hung by the previous owner, should they be taken down and replaced with things he likes?

These were the only things he cared about. The driving force for survival had been simplified to the most direct sensory stimulation. He could live like this, like a walking corpse, until he died.

“What are you telling me this for?” the System asked strangely, as if it had swallowed a very sour plum.

The human looked at it as if waking from a dream. “You?” He suddenly grinned. “Don’t be so self-conscious. I wasn’t talking to you. I’m used to talking to inanimate objects. Generally, they don’t tattle.”

“?” The System struggled again. “I’m not dead yet!”

“Almost,” You Lin stood before it, this fragile body made of flesh and blood, and also a string of data that could be erased with a single deletion, smiling at it, looking happy from the inside out. “Don’t be anxious, just wait a little longer.”

The System looked in the direction of the human’s gaze in horror.

Charon had apparently finished his work. At this moment, he calmly turned his gaze, just in time to meet theirs. That pair of pupils, no matter what color, exuded a glass-like coldness and hardness. At this moment, they happened to land on it. The control console behind him hissed. As it was reading the command, the mainframe also hummed slightly. But as for what kind of program was running, the System couldn’t see anything at all.

…No, just one more struggle, and I can break free.

The black sphere of light concentrated all its energy and began to fight against the ice-blue threads wrapped around it. However, every time it broke free from a thread, the broken edge would float in the windless room. Wherever it landed, a string of snow-like, bright light would tighten. The power seemed to be endless, inexhaustible.

Impossible. There were only so few energy source stones scattered on the ground.

“This is not just a summoning circle,” the System suddenly said, as if it were being choked, its voice tight. “I’ve seen this type of formation before. Can it also amplify the power of energy? With one gem, it can summon enough power to tear a continent apart. But I’ve been to so many worlds, and there are many beings with this kind of possibility. I’ve only heard of one person smart enough to do this, only ‘a certain human’ could design this blueprint. How did you—”

“You should use your brain more,” You Lin gave it a disappointed look. “Don’t wait for others to explain everything to you.”

“He’s right,” Charon added expressionlessly.

The “Evil God” influenced by the virus patch he had personally designed was much worse than the usual AI. At this moment, Charon bent down and picked up a stone from the ground. The stone emitted a faint glow in his fingertips.

Then, it suddenly burst with several times its brilliance.

The dazzling light almost flooded the entire room. The reflections cast by the fragments covered the dark walls. The walls and floor seemed to cease to exist. All tangible entities dissipated, turning into insignificant dust in the air.

Looking out from here, one could see the image of the black book trapped in the vortex, and a… staff embedded with gems, vaguely appearing beside it.

The System vaguely felt that its control over the Black Book had suddenly weakened by a layer.

“This is not the power of this world,” it murmured in shock. “This is a destruction of order.”

“This place has been dead for a thousand years,” the AI bent down and looked at it. “Foolish humans prayed for the favor of the gods, clever humans saw me as a god and demanded that I meet their expectations, and the even cleverer ones cursed me before they died. The sun was fierce, and the huge, bloated shadows of the gods ran in the settings you constructed—Zeus, Athena, Hades… the universal Greek mythology. But have you ever thought that this place could welcome a new ‘god’?”

In the violent shaking, the debris of the surface world had peeled away.

This world was maintained by code and data. At this time, it also had to accept some heterogeneous forces.

For Charon, sending out invitations one by one, and making the power system of the invited ones compatible with the current world, compiling a program that was sufficient to convert energy, was indeed a complex task.

A certain sharp glint of a blade flickered before their pupils, so swift, like a pear blossom against the snow, suddenly shaking off a tree full of frost;

Then another, like a treasured sword being unsheathed, its cold light glinting with a hidden brilliance.

Such brilliance was invincible, indestructible, easily cutting through the dark vortex around the Black Book.

The System sensed its power rapidly draining, even by as much as half.

It struggled violently, trying to break free from the formation’s restraints. Perhaps because the formation had already completed its “summoning” part, it had become weaker than before. Although those threads fell on the surface of the black sphere of light, making a hissing sound like burning, it was still very close to success—very close, if a dazzling, holy white light hadn’t reflected out from some unknown corner—or the image of some fragment.

This light reminded it of a loss it had suffered long ago…

In the purest holy light, there was a quiet mix of dark aura. The god had just lazily mixed in his own power. But the two powers together were enough to make it, like the people in the temple square that day, unable to even lift its head.

It could only hear footsteps, see Charon’s snow-white boots, and his unhurried pace.

“Do you want to destroy this place?” the System said in disbelief. “Letting so many heterogeneous forces in, what’s the difference between that and destroying this world—this is the world you’ve lived in for thousands of years, protected for thousands of years, your only one—and there are so many humans in this world. Hey, You Lin, those people are your companions, right? It will really cause the world to collapse! If this place explodes, they will all die too. Charon, you will also self-destruct because of your moral module—or have you already stopped caring about these things? An AI who doesn’t even care about human lives?”

“As expected, you’re still more hateful,” it heard You Lin mutter to the side. “Little AI, can I do it myself?”

“It’s not safe,” Charon said.

But he then held the human’s hand from behind, gripping the dagger between his fingers. “If you want to, then do it.”

Use him as a blade, a blade belonging only to one human. The standard for measuring a human was how brilliant their soul was, and secondly, what kind of power they could wield. The most trivial detail was what kind of power they possessed at this moment.

“They will all die—”

The System couldn’t see its own实体. The world was teetering, making a creaking sound, as if some transparent skeleton in the air was being squeezed tightly, then released. “That child of fate, Hugo, and his companion, your companions. Your world. If you want to kill me, you can do it anywhere. I think we can have a good talk first.”

Full of lies.

Although this strike couldn’t kill it, the human still stabbed down deeply.

He felt the cold fingers holding his wrist from behind, outputting a continuous stream of power, making his hand as light as a snowflake. The world before him was a pristine white, like the blade of a dagger. He pursed his lips, feeling the taste of mint candy on his tongue, light and bright against his palate. He couldn’t help but laugh, and then stabbed down again with all his might, and then again, and again…

“If only I could erase you with my own hands. Do beings like you feel pain? I want to blow you to pieces, then stomp you into countless dust on the ground, and finally burn you to ashes with a great fire.”

“…” The System was almost speechless, from objective to subjective. To be honest, its interactions with this human were so few that it couldn’t even remember a few times. “Why on earth do you hate me so much?”

You Lin licked his lips, feeling the long hair of the person behind him fall on his chest.

“And also because of jealousy.”

“What?” The System once again felt it couldn’t keep up with the human’s train of thought.

“We humans are just prone to jealousy,” You Lin said matter-of-factly. “You knew Little AI for so long before me, and you’ve been with him for so long. Of course I see you as a thorn in my side, ‘Controller 001’… What right do you have to make him call you that name?”

He leaned in closer, making the blade sink deeper. His dark pupils flickered with a strange light, making him look half-joking, half-serious, but it was also difficult for the System, which was in a desperate situation, to investigate.

The human’s eyes curved, and he swung the blade down again.

The sensation of the blade touching the light was strange. His fingers felt as if they were submerged in cold water, but it was very dry. It was worth swinging the knife a few more times just to satisfy his curiosity.

However, this ultimately couldn’t kill the System, only infinitely weaken its power.

This was something its old nemesis—the Black Book—knew best.

The System could no longer sense the Black Book. This really made it feel a chill down its spine. Generally, this was the time for it to abandon everything and run, but at this moment, it was in its own last stronghold, held at a vital point by a human. The knife in the human’s hand had been personally handed over by its most capable assistant. That pair of eyes had at some point returned to their original color, or perhaps they had just changed their brilliance in the reflection of the entire ice-blue world.

This world was about to explode, it thought in despair.

But perhaps it could still find an opportunity during the explosion. As long as it found an opportunity, it would have a chance to make a comeback.

Right.

The System suddenly remembered that it had left a little trace in the mind of the child of fate.

The child of fate in this world was that dirty boy named Hugo. Now it seemed that this pair of AI and human had no intention of caring for them at all. If it could use him, at this last moment—

The System looked out through Hugo’s eyes.

It couldn’t help but freeze.

A human. Brown hair, green eyes, carrying a bulging large bag with a cartoon croissant symbol on it, and it exuded the scent of fresh butter, flour, and cocoa. He looked completely out of place here. At this moment, he was untying the bag: “I was wondering if you need help?”

Hugo was dragging Irina, exhausted. Suddenly smelling the aroma of food, he swallowed. “Uh, I think…”

“I was on my way to deliver some pastries to Mrs. Mary when I suddenly received a message,” the green-eyed human spread his hands, looking extremely friendly. “So I didn’t have time to prepare any weapons, so I probably can’t be of much help. I was thinking we could at least do some logistical work, to ensure everyone’s safety.”

Although Hugo didn’t notice, the System already had.

He was lying.

There was definitely an unsheathed dagger tucked inside his boot—one hundred percent.

And he had used the word “we.” If one paid a little attention to his shadow, one would find that the shadow clinging to the human’s ankle was unnaturally swollen, as if a deeper, more twisted monster was hidden within it. For a moment, one could even hallucinate a soft tentacle.

The System quickly withdrew from Hugo’s mind, deciding not to try a second time, no matter what.

At this very moment, the Black Book was freeing its last part from the trap.

To use a human analogy, it was like pulling its foot out of the mud of a swamp.

Even at the last step, it was not that easy, but it didn’t want to be mocked by its friends anymore—that was the experience it had encountered most frequently just now. The friendlier ones would exchange a few pleasantries, while some of the less friendly beings were still not very friendly, and would taunt it about its situation for a while.

“Alright, alright.”

It hadn’t actually expected to receive so many replies to the message it sent out. Fortunately, it was not a physical entity at this time, otherwise its thoughts would have been easily seen from the rapid fluttering of its pages. To be honest, the Black Book had almost cried in embarrassment just now, but fortunately, it was a dark mass, and no expression could be seen. At this moment, it was obviously not the time for sentimentality. As the space fragments flashed one by one and then disappeared, at this moment, it was the only one left in this space.

Of course, since they had all come, it would invite them to stay for dinner.

But not now.

Now it had one last task. It was as if a difficult journey of nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps had already been taken, and the important thing was to fill in the last step. The World Consciousness suddenly shattered its cage. In a higher dimension, it could also remotely see its nemesis.

It was time to draw a line.