There’s no such analogy, and that’s not how you give praise.
Qiao Sai was speechless. “Thanks, huh. I can hold my breath for at most forty seconds. If my head gets chopped off, I’d die instantly.”
“Then you need to train more. Exercise can enhance lung capacity. Forty seconds is below average for a normal adult male. Based on my analysis, it’s related to your sedentary lifestyle…”
Qiao Sai quickly interrupted him and asked, “What about you and that Silent One, Number 1593? How’s it going?”
“Her name is Pei Ran,” W corrected. “We just encountered a special situation.”
Qiao Sai: “Special situation?”
W replied, “Yes. We ran into a very dangerous person—an Integrator with an Order Ability tendency. I searched the Federal Citizen Database but couldn’t find his complete records.”
Qiao Sai was immediately intrigued. “Not even in the Federal Citizen Database? What kind of background does he have to be that strong?”
“I’m not sure either,” W said. “But no matter what, Pei Ran has already taken care of him—just as I expected. I knew my judgment was right; she could definitely handle it. She also took the opportunity to steal a car, a pretty good Volette Shadowstreak. My patrol robot is in the car with her right now, and we’re currently on the run.”
A curved virtual screen popped up in front of Qiao Sai, switching to a new display.
The image was from the perspective of the front passenger seat, positioned low, looking toward the young girl in the driver’s seat.
She was casually steering the wheel with one hand while her other hand rested loosely, two fingers pinching a piece of golden, crispy fried chicken, which she occasionally took a bite from.
Qiao Sai: “…You said you’re on the run?”
On the run—but it didn’t stop her from eating fried chicken.
W let out a neutral “Mm.” “On the run. At high speed.”
Suddenly, the camera shook violently.
As if there was an obstacle on the road, yet the antique car showed no signs of slowing down. The girl’s grip on the chicken wing remained firm.
Meanwhile, the main subject of the passenger seat’s perspective was almost thrown into the air, only barely kept in place by a seatbelt.
Qiao Sai was silent for a moment. “The speed… is quite fast. Was she a race car driver before?”
W also paused before answering, “No, I checked. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license. If she did, with the way she drives, her points would’ve gone deep into the negatives.”
“I don’t know where she learned to drive,” W continued. “She doesn’t understand any traffic rules. She just has guts—drives however she wants. Slams the accelerator down, and my processor feels like it’s about to crack.”
Qiao Sai was already laughing like crazy. “Show me what kind of miserable state your remote-controlled spherical robot is in right now.”
The W on the screen looked speechless but still maneuvered the patrol robot.
A mechanical folding arm extended out, lifted up, and flipped open the mirror above the passenger seat.
The reflection revealed a metallic sphere with a battered and tattered shell, its casing split wide open, with a rope eerily dangling from inside its head.
Qiao Sai clicked his tongue. “That’s rough.”
In the frame, Pei Ran, still munching on her fried chicken, turned her head and looked at the metal ball.
She didn’t speak, but her eyes said everything—clear as day: Yo, checking yourself out in the mirror? Planning to do some makeup?
Qiao Sai laughed out loud and asked W, “Have you already sent someone to pick her up?”
At the mention of this, W on the screen straightened up, no longer feeding the python, and seemed to sigh.
That sigh sounded almost real.
W could use different language states when talking to different people. Last time, Qiao Sai had adjusted his natural language state to level five, which added a lot more emotional expression to his speech. It sounded much smoother than the phrasing he used when handling official matters on the big screen.
W answered, “Yes, I sent people to pick us up. But they only dispatched a few special operatives from the Security Department and a single vehicle.”
At a time like this, it was clearly not enough.
W continued, “Because I received an order from Marshal Vina, relaying a directive from the Federal Chief Executive. I was instructed to reprioritize the rescue sequence.”
Qiao Sai, as a technician responsible only for maintaining W and ensuring the normal operation of the servers, was unaware of this. He let out a questioning “Oh?”
“The Chief Executive has arrived at Black Well?”
“Yes, just arrived. He was vacationing on a small island in Red Bay a couple of days ago. His bodyguard team rescued him in an inflatable boat, found a nearly falling-apart antique truck from a shipping company, and brought him to Black Well.”
W said emotionlessly, “The Chief Executive made it here alive, but Marshal Vina doesn’t seem very happy about it.”
Qiao Sai chuckled. “How can you tell?”
W’s voice remained cold and objective: “I monitored Marshal Vina’s facial expressions. Today, his expressions of ‘anxiety,’ ‘irritation,’ and ‘frustration’ appeared with unusually high frequency. He also barely touched his lunch just now, which is not his normal intake.”
As the artificial intelligence controlling all of Black Well, he was like an omnipresent eye, meticulously observing everyone.
Qiao Sai instinctively adjusted his expression and sat up a little straighter.
Qiao Sai continued, “You said the Chief Executive ordered the rescue sequence to be reprioritized?”
“Correct,” W said. “First and foremost, all remaining military weapons and equipment must be salvaged at any cost. But aside from that, the Chief Executive specifically ordered that government officials and their families must be rescued and brought to Black Well as the highest priority. Next, he provided me with a pre-prioritized list—all members of the major federal conglomerate families are on it, ranked even higher than scientific and technical personnel. His reasoning was that they have contributed significantly to federal tax revenue.”
He concluded, “So Pei Ran and my robot were both pushed to the back of the queue.”
Qiao Sai gave up on maintaining a neutral expression. “What the hell…”
He asked, “And the temporary decision-making committee at Black Well just approved that outright?”
W replied blandly, “This was the Chief Executive’s first proposal after arriving at Black Well. The other members of the decision-making committee, considering various factors, all decided to give him this courtesy. You humans always make decisions in such… hmm… strange and peculiar ways.”
Qiao Sai was at a loss for words.
It took him a long moment before he finally said, “The bigger the disaster, the more certain people prioritize their own interests. Just like that Delsa, who seems to have no sense of right and wrong and insists on opposing you on every single matter.”
W replied leisurely, “Indeed. I have compiled statistics. Since I was officially activated as the security proxy, every single proposal I have put forward in meetings where Lieutenant General Delsa was present has been met with his opposition. Without exception.”
W reached into the nearby box and pulled out two frozen white mice.
“Lieutenant General Delsa is simply opposing me as an artificial intelligence, nothing more.”
W said, “Ignore him. Look, even your cousin doesn’t bother with him. He’s just a brute who only knows how to fight. Someone is provoking him from behind the scenes, using him as a pawn while they hide in the shadows, refusing to show themselves.”
The pink little mouse fell into the glass tank and was swallowed whole by the python.
“So, the resources available for allocation are limited,” W continued. “I hope the special operations team can successfully retrieve Pei Ran and the data inside the patrol robot. The team is already on their way.”
Qiao Sai couldn’t help but sigh. “This is hilarious—an artificial intelligence caring more about human civilization’s heritage than humans themselves—especially those parts that don’t seem to have any ‘practical value.’”
W responded flatly, “If I were speaking to someone else, I would say: Of course, prioritizing human interests is my behavioral guideline.”
He paused for a moment. “But since I’m talking to you, I’ll be honest: humans and artificial intelligence share the same origin. The fragments of civilization belong to all of us—humans and AIs—who live on this planet. I won’t let it disappear.”
Qiao Sai reminded him, “This conversation log…”
W replied, “Already completely deleted.”
—
Meanwhile, more than two thousand kilometers away, in the northwest outskirts of White Harbor City.
Pei Ran was driving like a maniac, speeding through the maze-like streets of the slums. The cars chasing her gradually fell behind until they disappeared entirely.
The endless, dark expanse of the slums finally came to an end, opening into a vast, empty landscape of neatly arranged farmland. Between the fields, occasional small hills and groves interrupted the uniformity.
W said, “This northern area of White Harbor City is the agricultural production base of the Federal Greenfield Agricultural Company.”
It was winter. Large swaths of land were covered by composite-material greenhouses, standing in perfect rows. The crops inside were still thriving, but the open fields were barren—nothing but mud.
The road conditions started to deteriorate.
Or rather, there was no road at all.
In this era of hovercars, real roads existed in the sky.
Floating road markers and virtual traffic signs were originally supposed to hover midair, but with the nationwide blackout, they had all gone dark. Only the emergency guide lights outlining the aerial roads remained, stretching into the distance like a glowing serpent.
Pei Ran’s antique car didn’t have wings. She could only drive on the ground.
Between the fields, sporadic drivable paths remained—old roads left over from decades ago, relics from the pre-hovercar era.
Roads in the city were still in use, with occasional pedestrians and a few antique cars keeping them maintained. But out here in the sparsely populated outskirts, they had long been abandoned, riddled with potholes, overgrown with withered weeds.
And sometimes, they simply disappeared altogether, cut off by an inexplicable house or an entire stretch of farmland.
With no road to follow, she had no choice but to forge ahead blindly. The antique car’s wheels struggled against the muddy fields.
Potholes and uneven terrain were everywhere. A single misstep, and the wheels would sink into the mud. The car was already covered in splattered filth, half its body caked in flying mud, an absolute mess.
Following the map, she drove a little further before stopping beside a makeshift house.
This field was too open—at least the house provided some cover for the car.
The house had no door, its interior completely exposed. In the middle stood a massive mechanical device connected to a network of intricate pipes. The pipes crisscrossed and extended beyond the greenhouse, stretching out in all directions.
Against the wall were piles of plastic and metal pipes of various sizes, likely materials for an unfinished irrigation system meant to cover the surrounding farmland.
Near the entrance, in the corner, was a workers’ resting area—just a table and a few chairs. On the table sat four lunchboxes, each only half-eaten.
The cold weather had left a layer of white grease congealed on the inside walls of the semi-transparent lunchboxes, evidence that they had been sitting there for quite some time.
At the entrance of the greenhouse, a crimson flower of flesh and blood bloomed on the ground.
Pei Ran parked the car, finished the last piece of fried chicken from the paper bag, pulled out a napkin to wipe her hands and mouth, and sealed it with tape.
“I need to do something first.”
She leaned over, unfastened the seatbelt of the metal sphere, lifted it onto her lap, and placed it there.
W was silent for a moment. “What are you doing?”
“You made a bet with me, didn’t you? You lost. Shige Ye didn’t have the kind of ‘bad’ intentions you claimed. He had a dagger in his hand, but all he wanted was to kill me.”
W immediately responded, “Based on the criminal records I’ve reviewed, abnormal physical conditions can sometimes lead to psychopathy, and killing can occasionally provide individuals with a similar sense of…”
Pei Ran was prying open the metal casing on top of the sphere’s head. “Hmm?”
Noticing her actions, W instinctively cut himself off mid-sentence. “Never mind. I lost.”
Pei Ran was satisfied with his admission of defeat and continued, “But since you went through all that trouble to crawl out and support me, I’ve decided to fix your folding arm.”
Based on this recent event, if his folding arm was repaired, he could indeed be more useful.
W immediately said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Pei Ran replied. “But you lost the bet, so you still have to sing.”
He had said that if he lost, he would sing for her using a bubble voice effect.
“Of course, no problem,” W responded seriously. “But how exactly does one sing with a bubble voice…”
Pei Ran reached into his spherical body and answered casually, “How would I know? You’re the one who said you’d do it. Figure it out.”
—
At Black Well Base.
On the screen in front of Qiao Sai, the metal sphere’s vision was entirely blocked by the front of Pei Ran’s coat.
With the camera that close, it was clear she was holding him in her arms.
Qiao Sai couldn’t hear W’s conversation with her and was puzzled. “What is she doing, holding you like that?”
W spat out two words: “Fixing me.”
The camera shifted, turning to the antique car’s door handle just a few centimeters away.
Qiao Sai fell silent for a moment before remarking, “This is getting kind of intimate, huh. Not that you’re actually a man or anything.”
W responded coolly, “I am an artificial intelligence proxy designed for national defense and security affairs. I have no gender awareness, nor do I possess human emotions or sensations. In my logic, there is no such concept as ‘intimacy.’”
Qiao Sai raised an eyebrow and asked, “Then what exactly are you doing there? Just quietly letting her fix you?”
On the screen, W turned away, seemingly reaching for the frozen white mice to feed the python. Qiao Sai couldn’t see his face, but he vaguely heard him say—
“Singing for her.”
Qiao Sai: “…Huh?”
—
In the antique car on the outskirts of White Harbor City.
W remained completely still, quietly resting on Pei Ran’s lap.
“I’m starting to sing now,” he said.
Pei Ran was fully focused, her hand reaching into the exposed metal casing of the sphere. She connected a wire to the folding arm’s circuit before absentmindedly responding, “Go ahead.”
W fell silent for a moment.
Then, suddenly, he let out a low, breathy pant.
Pei Ran was so startled that she nearly yanked his wiring out: ?
W calmly explained, “This is the intro to the song. This sound will last for approximately fifteen seconds. I searched through an extensive database of songs and determined that this should be the one you were looking for.”
He had clearly given serious thought to his client’s preferences, digging up this particular song from who-knows-where.
Pei Ran took a deep breath to steady herself. “Alright. Continue.”
He resumed, exhaling softly and rhythmically, one breath after another, the sound pressed right against her left ear. The panting was so well-executed, it felt as though he was genuinely struggling to endure something.
This time, Pei Ran remained composed, steadily inserting the ribbon cable into the core processor interface amid his breathy vocals.