THR CH224

What stopped Charon?

Through the AI’s pupils, he could already see the panicked people crowding at the entrance of the ritual ground ahead. Yet, they remained unable to escape the fatal gloom behind them. He had to go there; this thought was ingrained in his programming. Charon extended his fingertips, but they quickly lost sensation.

Any further movement, and his virtual entity would deactivate.

This realization finally cooled the boiling directives in Charon’s mind.

He turned to look at the human.

Unbeknownst to him, You Lin had been left tens of meters behind. The human stood motionless, a cold smile still on his face.

“Little AI,”

He noticed Charon’s gaze and slowly complained, “You were walking so fast, I thought you’d forgotten me.”

He seemed angry.

But Charon had no time to consider his emotions at this moment.

The closer Charon got to the ritual ground, the stronger the energy fluctuations he sensed. He clearly knew his mission. As a super AI, Controller 001 had failed to shake his seamless operational logic, so no one else would either. He would remove all obstacles in his way.

“…Human lives are under threat ahead,”

Facing You Lin, Charon chose a mundane explanation, “I must go investigate. Please cooperate.”

The AI’s silver hair swayed sharply with his movements, a fleeting glimpse of dark blue at the tips standing out remarkably in the pitch-black night. His eyes, no matter how many times You Lin saw them, he would marvel at their beauty. It was a blue that could never naturally occur, carrying a cold, rock-salt-like brininess, revealing his mechanical nature.

Especially now.

Stubborn, You Lin thought. And a hint of hidden secrets. His fingertips grew hot, yearning to shatter that aloof expression. He seemed to once again touch that great fire, hearing the faint clicks of joints in extreme excitement.

“Come here.”

He said, ignoring Charon’s words.

“I hope you will allow me to—”

“Right now,” You Lin said, word by word, “Turn around and come to me.”

He had no intention of catching up to Charon, leisurely toying with Charon’s main body—the game console on the red string. He could press the decisive lock button at any time.

The human shed his gentle facade, revealing his true nature as the arbitrary master of Charon’s fate. The AI met his gaze for only a few seconds, but it felt like a highly oppressive silent struggle:

“Optimal rescue time is limited. I hope you can weigh the pros and cons and make a reasonable choice.”

Close enough, Charon could sense that in the decaying ritual ground behind them, uncontrolled power was wantonly suppressing people’s spines. Fortunately, unlike the “Evil God” program he had encountered in the past, this Evil God seemed keen on delivering a speech before sending people to their deaths. Charon breathed a slight sigh of relief, but his fingertips were still tense.

The human in front of him was an out-and-out madman.

“Let those people die,”

You Lin smiled indifferently, the scarlet tear mole in his eye seeming to tremble, “What does it have to do with me? I won’t go anywhere until you come to me.”

“And then?”

“Depends on your performance.”

Those emotionless pupils were reflected in You Lin’s eyes.

Charon met his gaze, then obeyed his command—you see, AI always knows what’s best—He was silent, spine straight, his eyes showing no trace of subservience. But he slowly approached, inch by inch, as if an animal whose weakness had been seized by a trainer, now docilely led forward by a rope.

When he reached the human, You Lin found his lips unconsciously curved into an exaggerated smile.

He had won.

Excitement, like alcohol, made his blood boil.

He wanted to possess the person—or rather, the AI—in front of him. It wasn’t entirely romantic, though it certainly included romantic meaning. He was like a child seeing his favorite toy, wanting to possess the other, to brand them, not allowing their gaze to turn to anyone else. He didn’t care what the other thought; it was a naive and cruel possessiveness.

This excitement lasted until Charon leaned slightly, interlaced his fingers with his, and took his hand.

His icy blue eyes lowered, becoming somewhat dim in the faint light.

“Are you ready to come with me now?”

The AI said politely, “I will not walk too fast, I will not leave you behind, and I will do my utmost to protect your safety. I am obligated to do what I am about to do. However, please remember, no human life in my eyes is more important than yours, and no human is more special than you. This is my programming; you need not doubt it.”

You Lin was slightly taken aback.

Every word Charon spoke perfectly aligned with his desires.

However, when did he start using honorifics?

The excitement brought by conquest lasted only a brief moment. Realizing this suddenly disheartened him. You Lin often suspected Charon was truly skilled at understanding human hearts, and sometimes suspected the opposite. As Charon now spoke of programming, commands, and the essence of AI.

Charon was just an AI that rigidly followed routines, obeyed commands, and protected humans.

You Lin, the human, felt that he could gain a general ability to get along with people from him. He had been doing well, until he completely messed up at some point. The other party was an AI; he should be grateful. Tearing off the veil between them, he didn’t have to feel too ashamed.

He could completely destroy those ambiguous sweet nothings, those vows of protection, and the hard-won conversations and companionship, without bearing any responsibility. As Charon said, his identity was special to the AI.

As far as programming was concerned.

Charon didn’t care why the human suddenly fell silent; he completely disregarded the human’s thoughts at this moment.

Outwardly, he maintained a restrained and polite demeanor, yet an unknown fire almost burned all his components red hot, making him barely able to maintain an impassive facade.

If the AI understood human emotions better, he might call this emotion anger. Though any qualified AI—like his junior Medusa—would never think this way.

The human became an obstacle to the current mission.

And Charon, at this moment, had no other thoughts besides completing the mission.

One day in the future, he must find an opportunity to shake off the human.

A hint of crimson flashed quickly in his icy blue eyes, but was soon suppressed, as if magma submerged in the center of the ocean. The AI faced the human with the patience of solidified obsidian. You Lin, lost in silence, remained oblivious. He abruptly closed his mouth and followed the AI’s steps forward.

He didn’t ask what was ahead; that wasn’t what he cared about.

These thoughts merely flashed through Charon’s mind.

Even through the glove, the human could still feel the AI’s cold fingertips, though his own fingertips were equally chilled by the wind that had swept through the courtyard late at night. He slowly tightened his grip, increasing the pressure until he could almost crush the other’s bones.

The statistics on the force were faithfully reflected in Charon’s intellect, and also in his still unadapted pain system.

Charon still gently said, “If you are still unhappy, I can recommend some other ways to relieve it.”

“No need.”

You Lin paused, vaguely saying, “…Don’t use honorifics with me.”

Although the AI’s hearing was sharp enough to not miss his words, Charon still asked, “What did you say?”

The human didn’t speak again. He just slightly parted his lips, as if syllables had been pushed to his tongue tip, only to be swallowed back.

He still gripped the AI’s hand tightly; force was reciprocal. A whole patch of old scars on his palm subtly ached, along with the persistent ailment in his heart.

In that case, why not just shoot the AI on the spot and discard him? This self-destructive thought appeared in his mind, not surprising him at all.

But another thought had never appeared in his mind before:

“—Should I apologize to him?”

Although the short two-minute journey felt unusually long due to the silence, reaching the destination was objectively quick. You Lin looked up, and even with human eyes, he could see the gruesome scene at the ritual ground’s entrance.

On the high platform lay the corpse of an old man with a twisted neck. Even in death, he strained to keep his eyes wide open, those cloudy pupils reflecting two uninvited guests.

It was as if an ominous bell tolled in his mind.

You Lin’s pupils suddenly constricted, purely out of an acute sense of danger. He subconsciously pulled out his “bone,” his fingers steadily loading it without a tremor, aiming at the figure that had suddenly appeared at the entrance. The figure wore a pitch-black sacrificial robe, with dark hair, crimson eyes, and blood dripping continuously from its fingertips.

The next second, the metal gun barrel was bent by an unimaginable force, twisted into a lump of silver-white scrap metal.

“Foolish ant,” the Evil God said darkly, “Daring to seek death.”

The human’s thoughts exploded. He had been distracted just now, but that was no excuse for such negligence. Before him was the most unsolvable BOSS of this dungeon. Just feeling that terrifying aura, the experience of air being sucked out of his lungs seemed to replay, leaving him utterly defenseless. In front of this power, everyone was like an ant.

Subconsciously, he shielded Charon.

The AI seemed startled for a moment, but You Lin quickly snapped the red string at his chest. He flicked a copper coin and tossed it backward with the game console. Like dissolving into the air, both items vanished without a trace.

This was the magical artifact the Yin family master had been forced to surrender in the ancestral hall.

“What are you doi—”

As Charon’s voice echoed in his ear, the human’s consciousness grew hazy. He felt a thousand-ton boulder pressing on his chest; pain, accompanied by the creaking of bones on the verge of shattering, instantly robbed him of the ability to resist. You Lin barely managed to force a smile, his fingertips slowly losing strength, slipping from Charon’s hand,

“It seems…” He let out a faint smile, “…the Evil God is nothing more than this… Didn’t he fail to stop my little trick… Getting angry over this is too petty…”

Pain suddenly surged sharply.

But for some reason, You Lin’s ribs held up against such brutal treatment. Or perhaps he could no longer hear the sound of breaking bones.

The human’s smile became even more strained; his mouth was filled with the taste of blood, his fingertips completely devoid of strength, hanging limply at his sides.

“Hey…” he murmured indistinctly, “Little AI, you…”

You Lin’s vision went black, and he lost consciousness.

He didn’t fall to the ground; Charon supported the human’s swaying body, simultaneously blocking the Evil God’s attack. Protecting a human was not easy for the AI now. He raised his eyes; there was no longer any crimson in his pupils, only an icy blue that even swallowed the reflection of the Evil God’s eyes.

Charon realized he had made a grave mistake.

He thought he had a thorough understanding of the “Evil God’s” data and therefore knew it would harm or even kill any human who offended the Child of Fortune. You Lin, appearing as an outsider and not having entered its territory, would absolutely not become its target.

He was once the authority of absolute rules, and such an existence would eventually be consumed by the rules themselves.

Now, the “Evil God” in front of him had been altered.

It became more bloodthirsty, more brutal, more temperamental. This was because Medusa’s system simply couldn’t support the “Evil God” differentiating between players with different附加 conditions during operation. Therefore, as long as a player approached, the Evil God would attack. You Lin unfortunately became the first target it sought to kill with cruel malice.

Because the human had successfully played a trick in front of it.

You Lin now rested quietly on his shoulder, appearing unexpectedly docile when his eyes were closed. His black hair was damp and clung to his face, which was devoid of color; even the small mole under his eye had dimmed.

…Too sudden. Although he immediately blocked most of the damage for the human, carefully protecting his internal organs and bones, this was ultimately not his specialty. The human was still injured.

This was his negligence.

No matter the situation, Charon’s reasoning was always rational and calm. But now was his closest moment to being uncalm. An indiscernible anger had already simmered within the AI, and until a moment ago, his object of frustration was the human. Yet, at this very moment, his anger, for some unknown reason, swelled manifold, pointing directly at the “Evil God” before him.

The Evil God looked at the AI in front of it, also appearing somewhat disoriented.

“You…” It loaded confusedly for a moment, then finally roared, “Ant, die!”

“Why?” Charon asked, “What did I do? What mistake did he make?”

The AI still stood steadily before the Evil God, which made it even more bewildered. Its fingertips, swirling with dark power, should have by now fully affected this uninvited guest before it.

But the other was unharmed. Not only that, it couldn’t even touch the human in the other’s arms.

The Evil God’s pupils were pure crimson. Charon suspected half the red was a BUG error.

“You—” it slowly said, “Deserted Xuelan when he needed help. Feel boundless regret!”

“I don’t even know him,” the silver-haired AI said.

The Evil God stalled again.

It couldn’t be blamed; most people’s conversations with it wouldn’t get this far. Because as soon as someone questioned it, or pulled out weapons and items to try and attack it, that person would likely lose their ability to move and speak within ten seconds.

“Enough.”

In the end, it was the uninvited guest before it who grew tired.

As it realized this, the Evil God inexplicably felt an unease, as if it were being targeted as prey. It wanted to report this abnormal data to the plane, but found that its signal had been completely blocked at some point.

Charon looked at it with a cold expression, even the color of his eyelashes was light. Those icy blue eyes made it fear.

Was this a human, or a spirit? Could it be… a virtual entity?

But in those eyes was an undeniable emotion, a surging, explosive anger.

The Evil God’s pupils constricted violently, and it turned to leave. At this moment, in the crowd behind it, the tear-streaked youth finally pushed through the dense wall of people. He saw the Evil God and seemed eager to say something, but due to his haste, his voice became a muffled jumble.

Tears blurred his eyes, and he vaguely saw two Evil Gods.

…Huh? Two Evil Gods?

Charon’s fingertips effortlessly pierced the Evil God’s body, like a hot knife through butter. The entity was pinned to the ground, unable to move.

The AI’s silver hair fell, gleaming metallically. He watched the Evil God struggle with indifference, and suddenly thought: If only that black book were here.

That way, the other could feel pain.

—This was vengefulness.

The AI did not realize how dangerous his thoughts were at this moment.

He simply slowly extracted a segment of data from the other’s chest. The other had a gloomy and terrifying appearance, but the code that composed him shimmered with a faint blue light, adorned with several ugly patches, Medusa’s masterpiece.

The moment the code was extracted, the Evil God’s gaze instantly became hollow.

It stared blankly at Charon, and Charon bit off all the code at his fingertips.

Like consuming that large chunk of energy.

The moment his teeth met, the Evil God’s remaining bit of entity vanished into thin air. Charon swallowed the data, including Medusa’s patches, and all the energy the Evil God had provided. He desperately needed information and energy at this moment; the “Evil God’s” power flowed into his virtual entity, recharging him by half a bar.

That’s right, only half a bar.

Ruan Xuelan was completely stunned. The young man suspected he had cried himself silly, otherwise, why would he be having such a hallucination? He blinked again, and sure enough, only one black-haired, red-eyed Evil God remained before him.

Charon disliked the after-effects of digesting code.

He expressionlessly touched his long hair, which had turned black, feeling the residual power on it.

It wouldn’t last long, so he could only barely endure it. He gazed forward through his crimson pupils, feeling the patches Medusa had applied beginning to take effect.

Bloodthirsty. Authoritarian. Cruel. …Obsessive.

He calmly tossed all these patches into the trash bin.

The black-haired human still slept obliviously on his shoulder, his back to Ruan Xuelan. Charon’s gaze swept over the young man, finding his face covered in tears, wanting to say something, but constantly blubbering incoherently. After a long moment, he heard a few fragmented words:

“Boohoo… I’m just too useless, really… really it’s not everyone’s fault… everyone abandoned me…”

“That’s right.”

Charon said coldly.

Ruan Xuelan seemed not to have expected to hear this, and stood frozen in a daze.

He looked at the Evil God before him and suddenly felt that the other’s temperament was completely different from before.

The Evil God’s pupils were always a surging crimson, while the aloof deity before him had a pair of eyes as calm and cold as glass. Even though the color was the same, looking at him still made him feel a chill all over.

The AI again coldly dropped a sentence: “Since you know, you should strive to improve yourself, instead of crying here.”

Th-this… is he saying he isn’t trying hard enough?

The young man’s eyes immediately reddened further, looking on the verge of tears. He was heartbroken, seemingly unable to believe that the being who always stood by and protected him would say such words. He had originally intended to plead for others, but in an instant, he felt terribly wronged all by himself.

Charon did not intend to stay here long.

As the Evil God’s power gradually dissipated, the previously suppressed people would gradually recover. Fortunately, no serious problems were caused, the AI thought, and then looked again at the human resting on his shoulder.

You Lin still kept his eyes tightly closed.

He seemed to be having a nightmare, his eyelids trembling violently, yet unable to escape the nightmare.

Although the human’s body had not suffered any devastating damage, staying here was still not conducive to wound healing. Charon hesitated, touching his hair, which was soaked with cold sweat. The other shivered and buried his face deeper into his chest.

For a moment, the AI thought about taking this opportunity to leave. Their acquaintance had only lasted a few days; they barely knew each other, not even enough to be called friends. This cold thought appeared in his mind, not at all strange for an AI.

But another thought had never appeared in his mind before.

If it weren’t for him, You Lin wouldn’t have been injured… No, going back further, if he hadn’t lost control due to the mission and completely forgotten the human, he wouldn’t have been angry.

Charon thought:

“—Should I apologize to him?”

When You Lin woke up, Charon was in sleep mode, resting at the bedside.

Activating a certain period of sleep mode each day helps the machine improve operational efficiency. The AI was well aware of this common knowledge, and besides, constantly watching the human sleep would seem strange and unnecessary. This was the conclusion he reached after watching for a while.

He had, of course, considered returning to the game console to sleep, but was a little worried that You Lin wouldn’t see him when he woke up.

Therefore, when the human awoke, this is what he saw:

He lay in an antique guest room, the bed comfortable and emitting a faint fragrance. A lamp stood on the table. His AI was just a dozen centimeters away from him, silver hair cascading down his shoulders, appearing remarkably soft.

For a moment, You Lin suspected all of this was just a dream on the verge of death.

But when Charon heard the movement and lifted his eyes to look at him, You Lin knew this had to be reality. For those cold yet beautiful icy blue eyes were vivid in a way that a hazy dream could not replicate.

“Don’t move,” Charon said, “Your injuries haven’t fully healed.”

“Why are you here?”

You Lin asked, then realized an even more incredible question, “How am I here?”

The AI slowly blinked, prompting:

“You’ve only rested for a short while. You should continue to rest.”

You Lin stared at him for a moment. “I don’t need to rest.”

This wasn’t a lie; players in the Infinite World mostly underwent physical enhancements, and going days without sleep was commonplace.

But Charon still believed that the human, who had just narrowly escaped fatal injury, should rest properly. The AI sighed faintly, his silver hair spread on You Lin’s bed, then picked up by You Lin.

“Why is your hair down?” the human thought for a moment, then asked an irrelevant question.

But this was actually a crucial question. Only then did Charon realize that he had made sure his black hair had faded before appearing before You Lin, but he had forgotten that his hair was also loose on his shoulders due to the code’s after-effects. The AI, expression unchanged, concocted a reason to gloss over it.

It looked very peaceful here.

It hardly seemed like a dungeon world.

And the AI undoubtedly didn’t want him to leave here and continue exploring. The human’s chest still felt a dull ache. He decided to temporarily abandon this thought and follow the AI’s arrangements. But this was also a good opportunity.

“Since we met, we haven’t had a proper chat.”

You Lin smiled, but it wasn’t his usual cold smile; he seemed genuinely in a good mood. His gaze also softened under the warm candlelight.

“Coincidentally, I have many questions and many things to say. Is there a better time to start a night talk than now?”