"That's not even a compliment," Jose said, deadpan. "Thanks, I guess. I can hold my breath for forty seconds max—if I get decapitated, I'll die instantly."
"You need more training," W replied matter-of-factly. "Exercise improves lung capacity. Forty seconds is below average for a healthy adult male. I analyzed your recent metrics—likely due to prolonged inactivity from sitting too long…"
Jose cut him off quickly. "What's going on with you and that Silent State subject, Number 1593? Where are you now?"
"She has a name. Pei Ran," W corrected. "We just encountered a rather unusual situation."
"Unusual?" Jose asked.
"Yes. We ran into an extremely dangerous individual. A fusion with Order-oriented abilities. I searched the Federal Citizen Database but couldn't retrieve a full profile."
Jose's interest immediately piqued. "No record in the Federal database? That's serious. What kind of background does this guy have?"
"I don't know," W admitted. "But Pei Ran managed to take him down. Just like I expected—she handled it. And she 'borrowed' a car in the process. A Violette SwiftShadow, excellent condition. My patrol unit is with her now—we're currently fleeing."
A curved virtual screen appeared in front of Jose, showing a feed from the passenger seat.
The camera angle was low, facing a young girl in the driver's seat. One hand steered smoothly while the other casually held a piece of golden, crispy fried chicken between two fingers, occasionally taking bites.
"You said you were fleeing?" Jose asked.
Fleeing—yet she had time for fried chicken.
"Correct," W replied. "High-speed escape."
Suddenly the camera shook violently.
Probably hit an obstacle. The antique car didn't slow down at all. Pei Ran's grip on the chicken wing stayed rock steady.
The patrol unit, however, was nearly airborne in the passenger seat—thankfully secured with a seatbelt.
Jose stared at the screen, deadpan. "That's… fast. Was she a racecar driver or something?"
W hesitated, then said, "No. I checked. She doesn't even have a driver's license. And if she did, she'd be deep in the negatives by now."
"I have no idea where she learned to drive," W continued. "She has no concept of traffic laws—just nerves of steel. She drives exactly how she feels like. The moment she hits the gas, my processors feel like they're about to rupture."
Jose burst out laughing. "Show me what your remote patrol bot looks like now."
On-screen, W's robot—visibly unimpressed—extended a metal arm, flipped down the mirror above the passenger seat, and showed its reflection.
The metal sphere's casing was battered and cracked wide open. A piece of rope dangled ominously from inside its head.
"Yikes," Jose winced. "You got wrecked."
Pei Ran turned toward the robot, chicken wing still in hand. She didn't say a word, but her eyes clearly read: Oh? Admiring yourself in the mirror? Gonna do your makeup too?
Jose laughed aloud. "So—you've already dispatched a team to pick her up?"
Hearing that, W straightened up on the screen, no longer feeding the python. He even sighed—a sigh that sounded almost human.
W used different linguistic states depending on who he was talking to. For Jose, who had previously set his natural language mode to Level 5, his speech was full of emotional nuance—far more pleasant than the mechanical precision he used when addressing others.
"Yes," W confirmed. "I've sent someone. But only a handful of Special Security operatives. One vehicle."
Given the current level of danger, that clearly wasn't enough.
"Because," W added, "I received a directive from Marshal Veina, relaying an executive order from the Federal Chief Executive. I've been instructed to reprioritize all rescue operations."
Jose, a systems tech who maintained W and the server infrastructure, wasn't looped in on political matters. "Oh? The Chief Executive's here in Heijing?"
"Yes. He just arrived. He was vacationing on an island near Red Bay when the collapse began. His bodyguards rescued him with an inflatable raft. They salvaged a nearly junked cargo truck and drove him all the way to Heijing."
W's tone was neutral. "The Chief Executive survived. Marshal Veina didn't seem too pleased."
Jose chuckled. "What makes you say that?"
"I analyzed her facial expressions," W said flatly. "Today, there's been a significant increase in micro-expressions indicating anxiety, irritation, and depression. She barely touched her lunch—an unusual deviation from her normal intake."
As the overseeing AI of Heijing, W was like an omniscient eye—watching every detail, every person.
Jose instinctively straightened his posture and adjusted his expression.
"So the Chief Executive wants to reprioritize rescue efforts?" he asked.
"Correct," W said. "First priority is now the retrieval of military weapons and tech. After that, he's ordered that all government officials and their families be extracted at any cost. Additionally, he handed me a high-priority list. Every major corporate family in the Federation is on it. They even outrank scientific personnel. His reasoning: their 'significant contributions to federal tax revenue.'"
W concluded, "Which means Pei Ran—and the data stored in my patrol unit—have been deprioritized."
Jose gave up on managing his expression. "Unbelievable…"
"And the temporary Heijing council just approved that?"
"That was the first proposal he made upon arrival," W said. "The rest of the council approved it—for various political reasons. You humans… your decision-making is always so… strange."
Jose had no rebuttal.
"It's always the same in catastrophic scenarios," he muttered. "The higher the stakes, the more some people cling to their personal gain. Like that Deltha—always opposing you just for the sake of it."
"Yes," W said mildly. "I've run the stats. Since I was activated as Safety Proxy, every single proposal I've made in Deltha's presence—he's voted against. Without exception."
W reached into a box and tossed two frozen lab mice into the python tank.
"He's just reacting emotionally to the idea of an AI like me. Ignore him. Your cousin does. He's a muscle-brained war dog being manipulated by someone else—too cowardly to step forward themselves."
The pink mouse vanished down the snake's throat.
"So with limited resources," W said, "we'll have to count on the Special Operations team to safely retrieve Pei Ran and the patrol unit. They're already en route."
Jose couldn't help but sigh. "An AI more concerned with preserving humanity's legacy than humans themselves. Especially the parts with no 'practical value.'"
"If it were someone else," W said coolly, "I'd say: Of course. Maximizing human benefit is my operating principle."
He paused. "But since it's you—I'll tell the truth: Humanity and AI share the same origin. This civilization's every trace, every fragment—it belongs to all of us. I won't let it vanish."
Jose raised an eyebrow. "You know this conversation is being logged—"
"It's already deleted," W said.
Meanwhile, over two thousand kilometers away in the northwestern outskirts of Whiteport—
Pei Ran was driving like a maniac.
After weaving through the maze of the slums, she had finally shaken off her pursuers. The buildings thinned out. The landscape opened into neatly arranged farmland, dotted with occasional hills and tree clusters.
"This area is a crop production base owned by Greenfield AgriCorp," W narrated from the patrol bot.
It was winter. Most of the fields were empty mud, but rows of greenhouses built from composite materials stretched across the landscape, still thriving inside.
The road quickly deteriorated.
Actually, there was no road at all.
In this age of hover vehicles, real roads existed only in the sky.
Normally, floating signs and aerial markers directed traffic through the air. But the blackout had shut everything down. Only the emergency runway lights still blinked faintly, stretching forward like a glowing serpent.
Pei Ran's antique vehicle didn't fly.
She had no choice but to drive through the fields. Occasionally, an old road segment would appear—remnants from the pre-hover era—but most were cracked, overgrown, and completely abandoned.
Out here in the wilderness, the ground was full of potholes and ruts. The car's wheels slipped constantly in the mud. The chassis was caked in dirt.
Following the map, she pulled up next to a ramshackle structure.
At least the building offered a bit of cover for the car.
The house had no door, its interior fully visible: a massive irrigation unit filled the center, with pipes sprawling out from it like veins, connecting to nearby greenhouses and fields. Stacks of unused pipes leaned against the walls—construction clearly unfinished.
By the entrance, a makeshift break area: table, chairs, and four half-eaten lunch boxes.
The food had gone cold. A white layer of congealed fat clung to the translucent containers—clearly abandoned for hours.
And there, just outside the greenhouse door, a red, blooming flesh-flower had burst open on the ground.
Pei Ran brought the car to a stop, finished the last piece of fried chicken from the paper bag, wiped her hands and mouth with a napkin, and sealed the bag with tape.
"I need to do something first."
She leaned over, unbuckled the metal ball's seatbelt, picked it up, and set it on her lap.
W went quiet for a moment. "What are you going to do?"
"You made a bet with me, remember? And you lost. Shi Geye didn't have the 'malice' you insisted he did. He was just holding that knife because he wanted to kill me."
W replied immediately, "Based on criminal case files I've studied, abnormal physical conditions can induce psychotic states. Sometimes, killing triggers a rush of—"
Pei Ran was prying open the metal casing on the top of his head. "Hm?"
W detected her motion and cut himself off mid-sentence. "Never mind. I lost."
Pei Ran was quite pleased with his admission. "But since you went through all that trouble to crawl out and help me, I'm going to fix your folding arm."
Given what just happened, it was true that if his arm were working, he could've been a lot more useful.
W responded immediately, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Pei Ran said. "But since you lost the bet, you still have to sing the song."
He had promised that if he lost, he'd sing to her—with bubble vocals.
"Of course," W said, thoughtful. "Although I'm not entirely sure how to sing in bubble voice…"
Pei Ran reached into his core and replied casually, "How should I know? You're the one who made that promise. Do your best."
Back at the Heijing base.
On the screen in front of Jose, the camera from W's point of view was completely filled by the front of Pei Ran's coat.
She was clearly cradling him in her arms.
Jose couldn't hear what W and Pei Ran were saying. He squinted. "Why is she holding you like that?"
W replied with two clipped words: "Repairing me."
The camera shifted, panning to the door handle of the antique car about twenty centimeters away.
Jose fell silent for a moment, then muttered, "That's looking kind of intimate… not that you're actually a man or anything."
W replied coolly, "I'm an artificial intelligence agent designed to manage national defense and security matters. I have no gender consciousness, no capacity for human emotion or sensation. In my logic system, the concept of 'intimacy' does not exist."
Jose raised a brow. "So what exactly are you doing there, huh? Sitting quietly while she fixes you?"
On screen, W turned his back, possibly to retrieve a frozen lab mouse for his snake. Jose couldn't see his face, only caught a faint mutter:
"Singing to her."
Jose: "…Excuse me?"
Outskirts of Baigang City. Inside the antique car.
W remained motionless, resting quietly in Pei Ran's lap.
"I'm going to start singing now," he said.
Pei Ran was fully focused, her hand deep inside his opened metal casing, reconnecting a wire to the joint of his folding arm. She only replied after a second: "Go ahead."
There was a brief pause.
Then W suddenly let out a low, breathy gasp.
Startled, Pei Ran nearly yanked the wire back out. "What the—"
W calmly explained, "That's the intro to the song. This kind of sound typically lasts around fifteen seconds. I searched a vast library of music and determined this is the one you most likely wanted."
He'd clearly thought about it seriously, studied his "client's" taste, and somehow dug this one up.
Pei Ran composed herself. "Fine. Carry on."
W continued exhaling softly, breath after breath, his voice pressed right up against her left ear, each gasp surprisingly evocative—like he was going through something intense.
This time, Pei Ran didn't flinch. She stayed calm as she pushed the data cable into the port of his central processor, steady hands working to reconnect his circuits—while the artificial intelligence in her lap sighed rhythmically like it was about to collapse.