In the Black Well Base, everyone stayed awake all night.
Across the entire Federation, many people also found it impossible to sleep. A single carelessly spoken word in a dream could easily send someone to their doom. Countless people tossed and turned, their eyes wide open in fear, until dawn.
At exactly five in the morning, the alarm on the wristband vibrated, and Pei Ran opened her eyes.
W almost immediately spoke in her left ear:
“How is your mood today?”
As soon as she moved her eyelids, he started talking. Pei Ran deeply suspected that he had been watching her all night, and she wondered if he had been diligently guarding the door.
“Not bad,” Pei Ran replied.
W remained silent, as if he couldn’t determine whether her mood was good or not.
Pei Ran turned on the virtual screen of her wristband, illuminating the pitch-black small room. She sat up, tearing off the tape from her mouth.
The tape had been on for a full day and night, and it seemed to have caused an allergic reaction. The skin around the edges of where the tape had been was raised, swollen, and itchy.
Pei Ran rubbed her face, then rummaged through her bag for a tube of anti-allergy ointment. She applied a thin layer, only to sadly realize that the tape wouldn’t stick after applying the ointment, so she had to wipe it off again.
She then pulled out a box of oral anti-allergy medication to examine.
The pills in this box of anti-allergy medication were white, triangular, and about the same size as JTN34. Pei Ran had a sudden idea and took out the box of JTN34 from her pocket.
This medicine was too precious and too special; it needed some disguise.
Pei Ran poured out the anti-allergy pills from the box and tried fitting the two plates of JTN34 inside. They fit perfectly.
She then peeled out one JTN34 pill and swallowed it with water. The remaining pills were carefully placed in the inner pocket of her clothes, kept close to her body.
The medication she took yesterday had taken effect, and today her right arm and shoulder no longer hurt.
There were still two bags of chips left. Pei Ran reorganized her backpack, squeezing one bag of chips inside and tearing open the other.
The black eyes of the metal ball shifted, first landing on the chip bag, then looking at Pei Ran, probably reminded of the constipation issue again.
However, this time he had learned his lesson. To avoid further damaging their relationship, he desperately held back and didn’t bring up his “suggestion” again.
As Pei Ran ate the chips, she opened the virtual screen on her wristband and checked the memo.
Today’s memo read:
【Thursday: Fried Chicken Day】
She didn’t get to eat beef noodles yesterday, and it seemed unlikely she would get fried chicken today either.
She flipped through the memo again. From Monday to Sunday, each day had a planned menu, but now it was all just something to look at.
Continuing to flip back, the memo was filled with trivial notes jotted down by the original owner, interspersed with passages of text. Like her lament for the lost heating, these passages felt like short poems.
Writing poetry, such a romantic and whimsical activity, was far removed from Pei Ran’s life, making it somewhat intriguing.
Pei Ran curiously read through each poem. Each one was short, some rhyming, others not, with oddly chosen words.
Her gaze fell on the period at the end.
The original owner had a unique writing habit: sentences only had commas in the middle, with no punctuation at the end. Only after finishing the entire short poem would she solemnly add a period.
This was somewhat like writing with green light in her mind, where a period had to be drawn at the end for the words to take effect.
Surprisingly, the green light had inherited this habit from the original owner.
As Pei Ran flipped through the memo, she quickly finished the entire bag of chips. Still craving more, she opened a pack of scallion-flavored compressed biscuits.
The compressed biscuits in this world were unexpectedly delicious.
The biscuits were dense, with a slight scallion flavor, a hint of oil and milk aroma, yet not too greasy. They were far more refined and tasty than the crudely made compressed biscuits from the bunker world’s small workshops.
Pei Ran ate half the bag in one go.
In this world, she was all alone, and her daily goal was simple—to eat her fill and then survive.
It was only five in the morning, and she was already completely full. Pei Ran felt that she had already accomplished most of today’s task.
After drinking enough water and wiping her hands, she tore off another piece of tape and stuck it over her mouth. Then, she moved the metal ball closer, placing it in front of her, and began using the mechanical hand to pry open its metal shell.
She was keeping her promise and starting to repair it.
With a swish, the room lit up brightly. It was W, who had turned on the light on his head. He adjusted the angle of the light, directing it toward the ceiling.
The white ceiling was covered in mottled bloodstains, reflecting the strong light back, illuminating the table and everything around.
W: “The light from the wristband is too dim. This will make it clearer.”
Pei Ran could see clearly that the metal ball’s shell was almost split in half from top to bottom.
Putting it back in place would at least prevent its internal structure from being dangerously exposed.
W didn’t even dare to move his eyes, asking gently, “Could you please take a look at how badly my insides are damaged before resetting the shell?”
Pei Ran was surprised: “You can actually speak in this tone?”
From yesterday until now, this Federation security agent’s voice had always been icy, without a trace of emotion. Now, with his tone softened, there was a hint of gentleness.
W: “I told you, I can use human tones. It’s just that when communicating with humans, most of the time it’s only to issue commands, explain situations, or convey information, so there’s no need for it.”
But now it was necessary because he needed her help.
Pei Ran suddenly remembered the deep, pleasant voice of the artificial intelligence that answered the municipal repair hotline.
She asked, “Can you do the bubble voice1 A “bubble sound” (气泡音, qìpào yīn) is a vocal technique where the speaker produces a deep, resonant, and slightly vibrating tone, often described as sounding like bubbles rising in water. It is characterized by a low, soft, and somewhat husky quality, with a subtle vibration or “bubbling” effect in the voice.?”
The bubble voice mentioned in novels—Pei Ran had read about it but had never actually heard it. She had imagined it for a long time based on the descriptions but still couldn’t quite figure out what “bubbly” meant. She was very curious.
W seemed to think seriously for a moment before replying, “Do you want a girl’s bubble voice? I can try.”
Pei Ran realized he had misunderstood: “A male voice, please.”
W: “I thought you liked…”
“I’m not that kind of person who likes the same gender—I mean, that special kind of liking,” Pei Ran paused, then continued, “Actually, I don’t like the opposite gender either.”
In the bunker, survival was hard. She had seen too many men and the horrifying things they did.
W calmly pointed out, “But you still chose a male voice.”
Pei Ran’s attention was entirely on the metal ball as she casually replied, “Purely biological instinct.”
W fell silent for a moment.
“Uh… I’ll try. Is this okay?”
His voice dropped extremely low, especially the “uh,” which sounded like a string of tiny bubbles rising from his throat.
So this was the bubble voice. It was quite pleasant to hear, and his voice was right next to her left ear, making it sound unusually intimate.
Pei Ran couldn’t help but smile slightly.
Just a couple of days ago, he had flown onto the bus, cold and ruthless, taking a life with a single shot. Who would have thought the tables would turn so quickly? Now, he was in such a low position, battered and broken, having to rely on his voice to coax her.
Her smile was hidden behind the black tape, silent and unnoticed, but W still caught it.
His voice returned to its usual cold tone, though it seemed to carry a hint of grievance. “What are you laughing at? You’re the one who asked for it.”
“Nothing, it’s good,” Pei Ran replied. “Keep it up.”
Having offered his voice, W finally dared to ask, “Is the damage inside me bad?”
“Let me see,” Pei Ran said, fiddling with his complex components.
As she had guessed, the inner workings of the metal ball shared many similarities with the murderous artificial intelligences from the bunker world. However, there were still some parts whose purposes Pei Ran couldn’t figure out.
Pei Ran concluded, “It’s a complete mess.”
W asked, “Can you take a picture of the inside so I can see the extent of the damage?”
Pei Ran: “Bubble voice. Say it again in bubble voice.”
W paused for two seconds, then switched to the bubble voice.
She had laughed at him earlier, so this time his voice was softer: “Could you… uh… take a photo of the inside for me to see?”
Pei Ran: Huh? He seems… embarrassed.
She didn’t know if androids dreamed of electric sheep, but this artificial intelligence wrapped in metal skin could indeed simulate blushing.
Pei Ran didn’t let him off the hook, saying leisurely, “Speak louder, I can’t hear you.”
W was forced to increase the volume, his voice still low and intimate: “…Could you take a photo of the inside of the sphere for me to see?”
Pei Ran asked curiously, “How loud can your volume go?”
Suddenly asking a technical question, W seemed relieved, his voice immediately returning to its usual cold tone: “I can adjust the volume to be very loud. Your ears wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Pei Ran took a photo with her wristband and asked, “Send it to what number?”
Her wristband vibrated as W sent a blank image. The sender’s number was hidden, and the name was a string of DOD-prefixed code.
Pei Ran replied with the photo.
The internal structure of the sphere was complex and heavily obstructed. After a moment of silence, W had no choice but to continue seeking Pei Ran’s help.
“Pei Ran, I’ve seen your records. I know you majored in Intelligent Systems Engineering in university and won first prize in the campus robot design competition.”
He was well aware of the original owner’s background.
Pei Ran thought of the dusty crystal trophy on the small apartment’s table.
W continued, “The robots used by the Security Department are equipped with military-grade components, and their structure is quite different from the civilian products you studied. But I still want to ask you to try and repair me.”
The original owner might not be familiar with his internal structure, but Pei Ran had seen similar structures countless times on the dead enemies in the bunker world.
She played dumb: “I don’t think I can fix it.”
“It’s fine,” W said. “I just need your eyes and your hands.”
This guy’s own hands were broken, and his big eye was on the shell, unable to see inside himself.
“The photo just now didn’t capture it,” W asked. “Can you see a dark orange cylindrical component, about 0.7 centimeters in diameter?”
Pei Ran knew he was referring to his external memory unit.
She moved aside the cables and cooling parts, searching for a moment. “Found it. A small dark orange cylinder.”
“Good. I know its connection to the core processor is fine because I can access it. What I want to ask is, does it have any physical damage? Does it look like it might fall off?”
Pei Ran glanced at it. “No. It’s intact and firmly plugged in.”
W was relieved. “Good.”
Pei Ran remained calm, thinking to herself that the first thing he asked about must be extremely important.
She wondered what good stuff was hidden in his memory unit.
She guessed: Next, he’s probably going to ask about the levitation system.
Sure enough, W continued, “Further down, there are two fan-shaped components that look like butterfly wings. How are they?”
Pei Ran examined them. “Completely cracked. I doubt they can be fixed.”
The metal ball’s levitation system was beyond repair, and it indeed looked hopeless. Pei Ran carefully moved aside the cables and took a photo with her wristband as best as she could, sending it to him.
As expected, as soon as W received it, he concluded, “With this level of damage, there are no suitable tools or parts available to repair it at the moment.”
The levitation system was done for. The winged ball-angel could no longer fly.
Pei Ran calculated in her mind: He asked about the memory unit first, then the levitation system. It felt like he was in a hurry to deliver something from the memory unit to Black Well.