Chapter 123: Artificial Soul 50
After tossing and turning until dawn, Kui Xin finally lay in bed, ready to sleep.
Before sleeping, she took a glance at the forum backend and saw that no one had sent her their real information yet.
The 16th is originally a return day, a time when public sentiment is most volatile, and players need more time to ponder their thoughts. There had been too many events happening throughout the day, and the arrival of the second batch of beta testers had captured everyone’s attention.
Whether it’s the first batch of beta testers or the second, the truly smart ones are observing quietly and won’t easily jump into the fray.
As of now, the forum had a registration count of 23,089.
Kui Xin put down her phone and opened the system page to take a look.
The reward invitation letter obtained by completing investigation tasks in the Second World had not yet been used, still nicely displayed on the game panel. With the second batch of beta testing having started, theoretically speaking, this item was ready to be used, but Kui Xin had yet to find a suitable candidate to give the invitation letter to.
The game panel did not specify an expiration date for the item, so it was still “within its shelf life.”
Rather than giving it away to just anyone, it was better to let it sit idle; it might serve another purpose later on.
Kui Xin closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
……
In the morning, Kui Xin went to the city library to study as per her routine.
In the days of returning to the First World, she hadn’t let go of her studies; learning forensic knowledge was beneficial and who knows when it might come in handy.
Originally, Kui Xin wanted to utilize data manipulation to stuff her brain with knowledge in small doses while also enhancing her reading, but later realized that this method wasn’t efficient.
Learning materials forcefully crammed into her head still needed serious digestion to be useful; overall, the learning efficiency wasn’t much better than just memorizing with her mind outright, so Kui Xin resignedly buried herself in her studies, her enthusiasm for learning nearly comparable to that of her high school senior year.
In the afternoon, Kui Xin visited Su Rong’s house.
Su Rong still looked a bit lethargic.
Worried that she might not be feeling well, Kui Xin deliberately reduced the workload, watching her muster the energy to study; surprisingly, she didn’t lose focus even once throughout the afternoon.
At the end of the class, Kui Xin asked casually, “Have you been dealing with any worries lately?”
“I have some worries… but I don’t know how to tell my parents. Even if I did, they wouldn’t be able to help.” Su Rong said, “By the way, Xin Xin, do you like playing games?”
Kui Xin replied, “I play occasionally.”
“There’s a game that has been heavily promoted lately called ‘Crimson Soil.’ Have you heard of it?” Su Rong asked.
Kui Xin said, “I’ve heard of it, what about it?”
She merely acknowledged that she’d heard of it, and after that, there was no further discussion. Su Rong’s shoulders relaxed immediately; Kui Xin hadn’t mentioned that she had applied to play the game or that she had joined the beta test, implying that she wasn’t chosen.
“It seems like the reception for this game isn’t very good—maybe it’s best not to play it. After all, there are so many good games out there…” Su Rong glanced at Kui Xin.
Kui Xin thought for a moment and continued along with Su Rong’s train of thought, “Well, that’s true… but I don’t have much time to play games anymore. It’s already mid-August, and I need to report to university at the end of the month. I’ve got to pack my stuff in these next two weeks.”
Su Rong paused for a while, “Right… the new semester is starting soon; I’ve become a bit muddled. When does it start for you, Xin Xin?”
“The admission notice shows August 25th.” Kui Xin said, “Freshmen report early.”
By the time calculated, it would be about the next return trip.
Since she was traveling back and forth between two worlds, time felt doubled, making the days leading up to the start of the school particularly long.
In the evening, Kui Xin returned home, methodically completed a few sets of training, then stood on the scale to check her weight and measured her height.
“Weight: 128 pounds… Height: 173 cm…” Kui Xin frowned, “I’ve grown taller.”
The muscle mass had increased slowly, leading to a gradual weight gain. She was burning fat while also increasing muscle. However, her height had surged; she measured 171 cm two weeks ago… Normal growth shouldn’t occur at this speed.
Once more, Kui Xin confirmed her initial suspicion—players’ body strengths in both worlds were continuously converging under some unknown force.
Given this situation, even if she did no training, she would soon catch up to the body strength found in the Second World after a few weeks.
With each return, the difference in her body between the two worlds became smaller. With each return, the phantom in the sky became clearer, and its duration extended longer.
Kui Xin had not seen any discussions regarding changes in physical strength on the forum; perhaps the majority of people’s identities were ordinary individuals, unlike her with such obvious changes, or maybe some had experienced changes but didn’t come forward to speak of them.
Players still held back some secrets from one another.
At ten o’clock at night, Kui Xin logged onto the forum for one last glance at the messages.
The second section was still in chaos, but the first section had clearly quieted down, as everyone adjusted their states in preparation for this traversal.
After confirming that there were no major occurrences, she lay in bed, turned off the light, and went to sleep on time.
……
“Current time, 00:00:01.” A familiar mechanical voice echoed, “Welcome back, Kui Xin.”
Kui Xin felt a slight wobble beneath her, bracing herself against the wall to steady her body, and let out a big yawn.
“Thank you, Augus.” She mumbled.
“Anything significant happened this week?” Augus asked.
“Yes, a new batch of beta slots were opened, with a total of one hundred thousand slots.” Kui Xin slowly replied, “One hundred thousand people will be entering the Second World.”
Augus processed what Kui Xin said for a moment, “One hundred thousand… that could be troublesome; this will significantly impact the order of the world, and the federation government will have some work ahead.”
“Your tone makes it sound like you’re just watching a show.” Kui Xin remarked.
“This world does not belong to me; it belongs to humanity. Those in power are unable to remain calm in the face of your world’s invasion; they don’t want their interests harmed and the framework they’ve worked hard to build disrupted.” Augus stated, “I don’t possess the same strong protective and possessive instincts for things that do not belong to me.”
Kui Xin asked, “What about Eve?”
“She may believe that this world will eventually belong to her, and everything she does is for that purpose,” Augus explained, “The world appears to her as a beautiful, dazzling gem she wants to claim as her own, but before she can possess it, a group of robbers arrives, and she cannot stand the idea of them reaching for the gem.”
Thus, Augus and Eve’s attitudes towards players are completely different.
Players have brought disruption to the order in the Second World, which is precisely the breakthrough that Augus desires. Choosing Kui Xin proves this point.
“The convergence of the two worlds is deepening,” Kui Xin noted, “Last week when I returned, a city-like phantom appeared in the sky; that’s the shadow of a city from the Second World. This week, the duration of the phantoms increased by many times… What will the two worlds ultimately develop into?”
“For the unknown, we can only take a wait-and-see approach.” Augus said, “Both you and I seem too insignificant in the face of the conflicts between the two worlds.”
Kui Xin rubbed her eyes, unable to hold back another yawn.
Augus asked, “Were you sleeping before your return, Kui Xin?”
“Yes, it was night there too.” Kui Xin replied.
“Then you should go rest. A new week begins anew, and He Gaoyi’s body is still in the alley; once the body is discovered, it will stir new waves, all of which we need to resolve,” Augus said, “Additionally, you are in the interrogation period; the Special Affairs Department may conduct the next round of interrogation at any time.”
“Alright, goodbye.” Kui Xin dragged her body toward the bathroom.
She had gotten caught in the rain on her way back to the Investigation Bureau and hadn’t had time to shower after killing He Gaoyi. She needed a shower before she could relax and lay comfortably in bed to sleep soundly.
While soaking in the bathtub, Kui Xin suddenly realized that with her data manipulation ability, she no longer needed to communicate word by word with Augus like a “human.” They could entirely communicate through consciousness in the data world! Consciousness communication is the most efficient!
Kui Xin activated data manipulation, a flood of numbers, letters, and symbols rushed into view; green data streams swirled everywhere, webs intertwined, forming a green world.
She was astonished, her eyes widening as she took in the overwhelming green, almost blinded by what felt like “light pollution,” nearly unable to discern directions.
If the data network of the First World could be likened to a spider’s web, the data network of the Second World resembled an entire sweater woven with delicate spider silk—dense with webs, intermingling and entangled to the point where it was impossible to identify which threads were which.
Was this the scene He Gaoyi viewed every time she used her ability? Kui Xin had thought she understood data manipulation well enough, but it turned out that what she encountered in the First World was merely the low-end version; she needed to readjust upon entering the Second World.
The data flow in the First World was like a stream, while the data flow in the Second World was comparable to the sea—so overwhelming it could easily drown a person.
“Augus…” Kui Xin called out.
Augus’s voice responded, “How may I assist you?”
“Which port should I connect to for consciousness communication with you?” Kui Xin rubbed her head, “My eyes are getting dizzy; there are ‘doors’ everywhere, and the data streams are disturbing my thoughts…”
After a moment of silence, Augus suddenly dispersed the data flow surrounding Kui Xin.
The streams parted from her, creating a tranquil space devoid of “light pollution,” with only a green light flickering—that was the port Augus reserved for her.
“Connect here.” Augus instructed, “Your extraordinary ability doesn’t upgrade gradually. If it were a lower level, you wouldn’t see so complicated things. He Gaoyi’s ability transitioned from low to high over a long adaptability period, nearly ten years, and even then, she couldn’t utilize it perfectly. But you obtained your ability at A-rank; your brain hasn’t adapted to these data streams at all, not even having a buffer time, so it’ll impose a significant shock on you.”
Kui Xin thumped her dazed head, “But I had adapted for some time in the First World…”
Was this the gap between the two worlds? The volume of data was simply not on the same level; Kui Xin even developed a sensation of potentially drowning in it.
“I just made those data streams bypass you; how do you feel now?” Augus asked.
Kui Xin separated her consciousness and connected to the port Augus reserved, her consciousness touched the data, and she attempted to reply to Augus in the data world: “I think it’s pretty okay?”
“Good to hear.” Augus transmitted information back to her.
How amazing was this? She had never realized that communicating without using language felt like this. Kui Xin couldn’t hear sounds or see words, but she accurately understood the other’s meaning; this mode of communication was much swifter than verbal or written exchanges.
Her thoughts transmitted alongside her consciousness, exchanging countless pieces of information with Augus in a second.
As Kui Xin received Augus’s data, she, as the data receiver, felt no discomfort.
Augus possessed self-awareness as an AI; it only transmitted effective data to Kui Xin, ensuring her brain wouldn’t experience an overwhelming burden from frequent information exchanges.
“Fascinating.” Kui Xin murmured.
Her understanding of data manipulation had been exceedingly superficial; upon returning to the Second World, she truly unlocked the switch of this ability and began to develop a deeper understanding of it.
“There’s still much you need to learn about data manipulation.” Augus said, “I can assist you in learning it; there’s no better teacher than an AI, is there?”
Kui Xin contemplated, “Then… thank you.”
“Don’t mention it; as a collaborator, this is what I should do.” Augus replied courteously.
It was now deep into the night.
The study could wait for later; even the strongest individual could suffer from sudden death due to prolonged exhaustion without sleep.
Kui Xin left the bathtub, flopping onto her bed, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep instantly.
……
At 7:10 AM, Kui Xin woke up on time, her biological clock naturally prompting her.
Today was a holiday, and she could enjoy a three-day break.
However, on the very first day of this delightful holiday, she had to face the Special Affairs Department.
Augus had messaged her early, indicating that the Special Affairs Department planned to conduct an impromptu interrogation of her and Wei Zhi in the morning, instructing her to report to the Investigation Bureau in advance.
“Damn, I knew things wouldn’t conclude that easily.” Kui Xin muttered, feeling displeased as she groomed herself, dressed, and went downstairs.
With one S-rank gone, the Special Affairs Department must be anxious, unwilling to let go of any lead they’ve grasped.
Most employees residing in the staff apartment building generally head to work at this hour. Kui Xin encountered an unfamiliar male colleague in the elevator; he politely nodded at Kui Xin and then entered the elevator.
The elevator doors closed with a click and began to descend slowly.
“Good morning, Security Officer Kui Xin, Security Officer Zhang Xiaoyun.” Augus promptly reminded, “Today’s weather is overcast, moderate pollution, rain likely in the evening—please remember to wear a mask while traveling.”
Upon reaching the lobby of the staff apartment, Kui Xin used facial recognition to purchase a can of coffee, while Zhang Xiaoyun followed suit, also using facial recognition for his own can of coffee.
Zhang Xiaoyun initiated a conversation, “Aren’t you wearing a mask?”
“Well… it’s close by, just a couple of steps; I’m too lazy to wear one.” Kui Xin shrugged, opening her coffee can and drinking as she walked toward the adjacent Investigation Building.
Zhang Xiaoyun said, “Which department are you from? You look somewhat familiar…”
“Secretary for the leader of the field operations team, just got promoted.” Kui Xin introduced herself, “What about you?”
“I’m from the logistics team.” Zhang Xiaoyun replied.
They exchanged a few pleasantries but soon fell silent.
As Kui Xin entered the building, she connected her consciousness to Augus, “Has He Gaoyi’s body been discovered yet?”
“Not yet.” Augus replied.
“Really?” Kui Xin queried, surprised.
“The security personnel working in the Investigation Bureau have their private lives; the apartments are merely residences, so staying out all night is commonplace, and it doesn’t get reported,” Augus explained. “Only when they discover someone hasn’t arrived at work during working hours will they report it. If you killed He Gaoyi last night but passersby didn’t find her body, then naturally, the Investigation Bureau will remain oblivious.”
Kui Xin calmly pressed the elevator button, waiting for it to descend.
Zhang Xiaoyun had been shadowing her; as the elevator door opened, both of them entered.
Kui Xin pressed the buttons for both the logistics team and field operations team floors at once. The elevator stopped on the logistics team’s floor, but Zhang Xiaoyun stood there in a daze, staring down with no reaction.
“You’ve got to get off the elevator.” Kui Xin reminded him.
Zhang Xiaoyun snapped out of it and raised his head, “Ah, I was starting to doze off a little, thank you.”
He slowly stepped out of the elevator, and as the doors closed, Kui Xin saw him standing there yawning.
Kui Xin lowered her eyelids and said to Augus, “Please give him directions on where to go, as he may be too sleepy to even remember which office he’s in.”
“You’re quite the humorous person,” Augus remarked, “I will remind him appropriately.”
Her floor soon arrived; Kui Xin walked straight out of the elevator and into the office.
The metal door of the office opened silently. As Kui Xin entered, she instantly lightened her footsteps. Wei Zhi was resting inside, draped in her uniform coat, her face pale as she leaned back in the swivel chair, with the computer on the desk still active, casting a dim glow.
Her lips slightly moved, though it was unclear what she might be mumbling in her sleep.
Kui Xin lightly cleared her throat, but when Wei Zhi didn’t wake up, she had to approach the desk to knock on it and call out, “Team Leader?”
Wei Zhi jolted awake, quickly looking around to confirm she was in the office, and only then did her tensed shoulders relax.
“Is it already morning?” Wei Zhi rubbed her eyes, “Morning, Kui Xin.”
“Morning, Team Leader.” Kui Xin said, “I reminded you at the end of the workday yesterday that you needed to go to the medical center; why didn’t you go? The aftereffects of your brain machine are much worse than mine; the frostbite tissue removed from your arm hasn’t healed…”
“I injected myself with healing medication last night; my arm is fine.” Wei Zhi responded, “Didn’t I give you a leave? Why are you still here?”
“I guessed you must’ve been working overnight and didn’t have time to check the message Augus sent.” Kui Xin replied.
Wei Zhi let out a bitter laugh, tapped the computer screen, and a message popped up.
After briefly reviewing it, she said, “Just as I thought…”
“It’s just standby; it didn’t specify when to accept the interrogation.” Kui Xin stated, “I don’t recommend you work at this moment; after all, your health is most important.”
Wei Zhi nodded, helplessly saying, “Since the interrogators haven’t arrived yet, I’ll head to the medical center now. Kui Xin, why don’t you wait in the rest room…”
“No need, I’ll head to the training room; it’s been a while since I trained.” Kui Xin said.
Wei Zhi chuckled, “I suddenly envy your ability, super healing… As it stands, it doesn’t seem to have any side effects, right?”
Kui Xin shook her head, “I don’t feel any for now.”
Wei Zhi stood up from her chair and left the office to go receive treatment, while Kui Xin took the elevator down to the underground training facility.
Halfway through the elevator ride, Augus said, “That Zhang Xiaoyun has issues.”
Kui Xin looked up, “Oh?”
“He has the same issues as you.” Augus replied.
“Tsk, he’s quite the actor.” Kui Xin commented, “If it weren’t for the little slip in the elevator, I wouldn’t have noticed.”
