Casually, she turned to Pei Ran. “What about you? You didn’t even recognize Basserway—who’d you end up voting for?”
Pei Ran suddenly remembered what W had said when explaining the phone’s full-map mode. Keeping her tone neutral, she replied, “I randomly picked some oddly-named party. Think it was called… ‘De-Word Party’?”
“Oh yeah,” Li nodded. “Heard of that one. And now we’ve truly gotten rid of words, haven’t we?”
Pei Ran couldn’t help glancing back at Basserway.
She asked, “Will Black Well eventually hold public elections for its leadership too?”
Team Leader Li squinted at the scene. “When the Silence first hit, the earliest arrivals here were military personnel. So Black Well started under strict martial law. But as more government staff poured in, the higher-ups formed a Provisional Decision-Making Committee.”
“The Committee votes one-member-one-vote now, but I figure that’s just temporary. Whether Black Well ends up with elections like the old Federation or stays under permanent military control—hard to say which way it’ll go.”
“Production sectors were originally under military control, but I hear Basserway’s pushing to transfer them back to civilian administration. They’re at a stalemate.”
Pei Ran frowned. “Without control of the military, how could Basserway possibly seize power?”
Coming from the bunker world where might equaled right and guns decided everything, she couldn’t comprehend this.
“Theoretically,” Li explained, “no matter who gets elected Chief Executive, they automatically become Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces with ultimate authority over the military—channeled through the Defense Minister. But realistically? Everyone knows the military’s grown beyond civilian control these past years.”
“Still, outright martial law would violate the Constitution. Marshal Vina doesn’t seem ready to cross that line yet.”
She added, “At least the Chief Executive’s willing to put on these PR stunts. With manpower so tight, he’s good for half a laborer.”
More like a quarter, Pei Ran thought.
All that small talk and sympathy-hustling couldn’t be very efficient.
Their truck drew closer, passing the distribution point.
Basserway had just hefted a large supply crate into a refugee’s arms. Looking up, he caught sight of the passing truck—and the twin semicircular insignia of a government agency on its side.
His face immediately lit up with a radiant smile as he raised his hand and waved energetically at their passing truck. “Thank you for your hard work—” he called out, his voice trailing off in a drawn-out “ahhh—” that could still be faintly heard even as their vehicle sped away.
The truck came to a stop beneath Pei Ran’s dormitory building.
Team Leader Li looked up at the structure and remarked, “First-class medal recipients really do get special treatment. They say many of the Federation’s top researchers live in these Yellow Zone buildings—best security and living conditions around.”
After Li drove off, Pei Ran headed upstairs alone.
Ren had been busy all day, and the results were astonishing. Though the apartment had already been new, the robot had transformed it into something sparkling and pristine.
The moment Pei Ran entered, Ren zoomed over, slippers at the ready.
“Master! You must be exhausted after working all day! Would you like to wash your hands first? Some water? Dinner will be ready in under ten minutes!”
Its homemaking skills were impeccable.
As Pei Ran watched it bustle about, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small ore fragment.
The stone sat heavy in her palm, glinting gold under the lights.
Ren caught sight of it and gasped. “Ohhh! Master, where did you find this little piece of junk?”
Pei Ran: “…”
“I picked it up in the old mining tunnels today.”
Ren tilted its head, examining the ore closely. “Looks like gold ore! The Black Well mines mainly produced industrial minerals, but people often found traces of gold deposits too.”
Suddenly it dropped the “junk” description. “Master! A chunk this big—you’ve hit the jackpot!”
It snatched the ore from Pei Ran’s hand, gave it a thorough spritz of disinfectant, then zipped around the apartment at top speed before finally coming to rest by the bedside table.
After stashing the ore in the deepest part of the drawer and covering it with a box of tissues, Ren grumbled, “These Black Well dorms are so poorly equipped—not even a safe for valuables! My previous owner had a huge one.”
As she watched it work, Pei Ran asked, “Ren, are you mass-produced? Or was your previous owner some kind of inventor?”
“How could I possibly be mass-produced??”
The robot’s cartoon face displayed an offended expression, though this didn’t slow its movements as it slid into the kitchen to wash up and start cooking.
Scissors emerged from its palm as it deftly opened meal packs. “I was born at a ZhiRui Corporation production facility, specifically from their SFH4T89 assembly line as a Loyal Devotee S581 model smart—”
Pei Ran: “So you are mass-produced.”
Ren: “I wasn’t finished talking!!”
“I’m the smartest multi-functional robot model—”
Pei Ran: “The smartest, mass-produced, multi-functional robot.”
Ren turned its head, displaying a cartoonishly aggrieved expression.
Pei Ran decided to stop teasing it. “Alright, alright. Then what happened?”
“Then I was assigned to the domestic helper division—outfitted with all the standard household attachments before being shipped to retail. My previous owner, Qiao Sai, took one look at me and bought me on the spot.”
It added proudly, “But here’s the key part: He completely customized and refreshed my operating system. That’s how I became the Ren you see today. So how could I possibly be mass-produced? I’m the one and only Ren in the entire world!”
It stared at Pei Ran with pitiful, glowing eyes.
Pei Ran nodded. “Absolutely. Ren is one of a kind.”
Instantly cheered, Ren resumed cooking, its scissors snipping happily.
Pei Ran asked, “You mentioned being assigned to the domestic division—were there other groups?”
“Of course!” Ren said. “Smart robots like us can be adapted for dozens of industries with minimal modifications—deliveries, baristas, childcare—freeing humans from tedious labor.”
Or stealing their low-skilled jobs, Pei Ran thought.
“Could they work in mining?” she asked.
“Bingo!” Ren dumped rice from a prepackaged pouch into a heater. “Many mining corporations retrofit existing heavy machinery—originally designed for humans—with ZhiRui’s smart robots. Cheaper than replacing equipment, and robots don’t need salaries. Just maintenance. Even if a mine collapses, you scrap the bots instead of paying death benefits. Super cost-effective!”
It added, “Rumor is, Black Well used to have tons of these robot miners.”
Pei Ran pressed, “Then what? After Black Well became a military base, where’d they go?”
“No idea,” Ren admitted.
Just then, W’s voice chimed in her ear:
“Pei Ran, I see you’re back at Black Well. Are you busy?”
“Not at all.” She sank into the sofa, exhaling before tapping the spherical icon on her wristband.
For some reason, when W was just a broken sphere, Pei Ran had no trouble chatting casually with him. But ever since he suddenly appeared in that impossibly perfect human form yesterday, she’d been unconsciously avoiding opening his interface.
Now W appeared on screen again.
He’d changed outfits—this time wearing a Federation military-style white shirt with epaulets, paired with dark trousers. Of course, these virtual clothes were just data; he could switch them as he pleased.
W gazed at Pei Ran through the screen with those clear eyes of his. Under his stare, she inexplicably grew restless and poked at the sleeping python in the terrarium beside him. “Still asleep?”
This creature could rival her Green Light No. 1 in laziness. They’d make perfect sworn brothers in sloth.
“Yes, let it rest,” W said. “Pei Ran, I want to show you something else.”
He turned and walked away, the camera following automatically.
W pushed open a door. His virtual room was actually a suite, with an adjoining bedroom.
The bedroom matched the living area’s aesthetic—soft yellow lighting, furnishings, and a proper bed.
Pei Ran eyed the pristine white bedding skeptically. “Do you even need sleep?”
During their entire journey to Black Well, he’d remained active 24/7 without rest. Even if he did “rest,” why bother simulating a bed?
W replied, “No need. But I enjoy having one here like humans do. Sometimes I lean against the headboard to read.”
Sure enough, an open book lay facedown on the nightstand.
Pei Ran zoomed in to examine the cover. “If there were any text in your interface and I opened this outside Black Well, my arm would be gone.”
W picked up the book to show her. “Completely blank. I’ve erased all text in this room.”
So he just liked pantomiming the act of reading.
Setting the book aside, W moved to the foot of the bed where a small glass terrarium sat.
“Those ants you mentioned—I made another colony.”
The camera focused on the minuscule black ants, smaller than sesame seeds, bustling through tunnels with food fragments.
“This time, a full nest,” W explained. “See? The queen’s hiding at the bottom. I feed them daily.”
At least he’d shown mercy this time—no pitting two colonies against each other in a genocidal war.
Next to the ant farm stood a window covered by heavy floor-length curtains. Pei Ran suddenly wondered: “What’s outside your bedroom window? Does it even lead anywhere?”
This room existed in a virtual world—perhaps it was just an isolated island. Those curtains might be purely decorative.
W turned to glance at her, then reached out and swept the curtains open with a flourish.
Golden-red twilight poured in—so bright it made her eyes water.
Not the dim, smog-filtered sun of this high-tech world, but real sunlight, vivid and unclouded.
And a blue sky. The kind dyed with sunset hues, streaked with dazzling pink and purple clouds.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched a balcony. A tree beside it bloomed with tiny white flowers. Further out, a bustling square pulsed with life—a music fountain sent playful arcs of water into the air as children on scooters darted through the spray, giggling.
Shops lined the square, their neon signs glowing. Hotpot restaurants, ice cream parlors—everything imaginable.
Neither in the bunker world nor this skyscraper-dominated reality had Pei Ran ever seen such a scene.
Bright. Vibrant. People living in peace.
She was speechless.
W pushed open the balcony door. “Pei Ran, there’s a touchscreen on the wall beside your kitchen. Tap it.”
She looked up. Sure enough, a palm-sized panel now protruded from the corner.
She moved toward it.
Ren glanced over. “Installers came this morning. I checked—Black Well’s system authorized it. No idea what it does though. I tried pressing it earlier. Nothing happened.”
Pei Ran tapped the screen.
Instantly, the blank wall vanished.
In its place appeared a floor-to-ceiling window—fully three-dimensional, textures so finely rendered it looked utterly real. The window stood open, curtains half-drawn, framing the same balcony, the same golden sunset, the same lively square (though the fountain’s angle differed slightly).
Then she understood. She brushed aside the virtual curtains.
There, on a red-brick terrace two stories high across the square, stood a tall figure.
It was W. He’d stepped onto the balcony, leaning against wrought-iron railings. When he spotted her, he smiled and raised a hand in greeting.
Every detail felt real.
The sunset. The fountain. The terrace.
And W—as if he’d torn through dimensions to stand just beyond her reach.