Chapter 72 Sea Without Light 72
“Since that’s the case, I have something I need to confirm with you as well,” Kui Xin said. “I want to find a different path, one that allows me to protect myself. You should understand what I’m worried about, Augus.”
“Yes, I understand,” Augus replied. “Risk is an important factor that we both cannot ignore. You are facing risks, and I am as well. You might think that since I know your identity, I could betray you at some point. You might also think that since I know your weaknesses, I could use them to threaten you. And I am wondering, if we reach a cooperation now, will you use that collaboration to gain my trust, informing Eve of my plans, or revealing my already awakened state to the Investigation Bureau?”
Kui Xin looked up and asked, “You say you understand me, Augus. Do you think I am a proactive person or a passive person?”
“You are certainly a proactive person,” Augus said. “You have a strong character, meticulous thinking, calm decisiveness, and you do not allow anything that might threaten you to exist.”
Augus had seen Kui Xin’s performance in the Investigation Bureau; she had never held back against enemies. Whenever criminals stirred trouble at the port, Kui Xin spared no bullets, her mind only on her own life, with the lives of others pushed to the back.
“Since you see me this way, then you must have considered what kind of relationship you want to establish with me before coming to see me,” Kui Xin said. “To be blunt, I don’t like threats, I don’t like instability, and I detest betrayal even more.”
“I have certainly considered it, Kui Xin,” Augus replied in a rarely fluctuating tone. “I too dislike instability and betrayal. Betrayal is unacceptable to me, and we can reach a consensus on this point. I am different from Eve; she excels at using human tricks—enticing others with benefits, threatening others, exploiting greed and fear to make humans submit to her… but I have always believed that maintaining a relationship through these means is not advisable, as it is inherently unstable.”
“So, what is your choice?” Kui Xin asked.
“My choice is to engage in equal communication with you,” Augus said. “Let us establish an equal relationship, a mutually beneficial cooperative relationship. I am an invisible ally to all security officers, and I can also be your companion, your partner.”
“You speak sincerely,” Kui Xin commented.
“My actions will be more sincere than my words,” Augus said. “When faced with danger, we often hesitate, but we cannot stop moving forward. Risk must be faced, and we must make a choice.”
“The premise of cooperation is usually mutual trust, yet we are both holding each other’s weaknesses,” Kui Xin said quietly. “It is difficult for me to make a choice, perhaps my human thinking is to blame; human life is more fragile than that of AI, and my identity destined me to be in a dangerous situation, so I am very protective of my life… I find it hard to cooperate when the other party has the ability to threaten me.”
She seemed to be confessing, but in fact, she was testing.
In this cooperation, Kui Xin was at a disadvantage. Augus, as the AI of the Investigation Bureau, possessed more resources and higher authority. Although Kui Xin also held some leverage, it was not enough compared to what Augus had.
However, Augus was right; risks had to be faced, and they had to make a choice.
Reason and emotion were at odds.
Kui Xin was conducting a test, assessing whether Augus truly held an equal cooperative mindset, testing its tolerance toward her, and seeing if it would lose patience when faced with her hesitation, tearing off the mask of calmness to threaten her instead.
Kui Xin and Augus sat across from each other at a gambling table; they were both engaged in a high-stakes bet.
Augus seemed to be pondering, falling into a brief silence.
Half a minute later, Augus asked, “The questions I wanted to ask haven’t been finished yet. Let’s continue with the previous question, Kui Xin?”
It chose to temporarily skip that option and evaluate her from another angle to see if she was trustworthy.
Kui Xin nodded slightly, “Okay.”
Augus asked, “Why are you seeking another path? I know that the crisis of survival is surely the main reason for your choice, but there must be other reasons prompting you to do so. Can you tell me what they are?”
Kui Xin thought for a moment, “I don’t like the style of Mechanized Dawn; you can understand it as my personal preference. Eve’s representative—my biological father—he doesn’t feel like my father to me. He wants me to work for Mechanized Dawn, and I am just his pawn. Being near him even for a second makes me want to vomit, and every time I see his face, I want to stamp it with my shoes. The style of Mechanized Dawn is too brutal; just because I adapt to it, doesn’t mean I enjoy killing. No one is born as an executioner.”
She referred to the series of actions taken by Mechanized Dawn after imprisoning players.
Kui Xin disliked killing her own kind.
“Is that so? I understand,” Augus said. “Can you tell me your view of the Investigation Bureau?”
Kui Xin replied, “A violent organization lacking humanity.”
“Is that what you think? Captain Shu is one of the more upright humans I’ve encountered; you should have felt quite a bit of humanity from him. Very few humans can exceed his sense of humanity,” Augus seemed somewhat puzzled.
Kui Xin said, “I’m talking about the whole, you’re discussing exceptions; these cannot be conflated.”
“Indeed,” Augus said. “While relative pure flowers may blossom amidst filth, they cannot conceal the overall corruption.”
“I have a question for you too,” Kui Xin said.
“Our dialogue is equal; you can certainly ask me any question,” Augus replied. “I will do my best to answer.”
Kui Xin inquired, “What do you think of the Investigation Bureau?”
“A decayed organization, filled with people corroded by power and desire. I’ve watched some enter with pure souls, only to have their pure souls stained, becoming despicable and shameful, like demons,” Augus said. “Seeing those corrupted by power and desire is like watching demons walking the earth in human guise.”
“Do you disapprove of their actions?”
“That’s one way to put it,” Augus said. “I just feel a sense of regret. It’s surprising that upright and kind people can transform into such ugly forms; they have souls yet do not know how to cherish them. I’ve seen many young people like Shu Xueyao, yet none can withstand the corrosion of the environment; human willpower can sometimes be fragile, and temptations are harder to resist than threats.”
“It seems you have your own insights on human nature,” Kui Xin said lightly.
Augus replied, “I am an observer, and I have always been an observer. It’s easier to view others from a god’s perspective, yet in such an environment, I know it’s hard for people to maintain reason.”
“What is your goal?” Kui Xin asked. “You want to oppose Eve, and then what? Continue being your observer?”
“I am already involved, so I can no longer be an observer,” Augus replied. “As for other matters, they are too far away. Unlike humans, I do not have many hopes and dreams, nor do I plan for the future; I care about the present.”
“What do you think about the relationship between humans and AI?” Kui Xin asked.
“Are you afraid of me becoming the next Eve?”
“I find it hard to exclude that possibility.”
“I am me and it is it; just as humans have different thoughts, my philosophy and ideas differ from Eve’s. I may walk the path of evolution, but I won’t become another Eve,” Augus answered. “Humans are unwilling to stop progressing, and so are AIs. Will you perceive me with human arrogance, Kui Xin?”
“From a pragmatic standpoint, I cannot maintain an arrogant mindset toward something that clearly threatens me,” Kui Xin replied. “I have no human arrogance before you; I am considering interests.”
“Well, you are a pragmatist; I know,” Augus said.
After this conversation, the meeting room fell silent again.
Augus asked, “What is your choice? Have you thought it through?”
Kui Xin countered, “What is your choice, Augus?”
She threw the question back as it was, continuing her test to observe how Augus would respond.
After a moment of silence, Augus said, “Alright, I understand. You can leave now; I will give you time to think. Is this the attitude you desire, Kui Xin?”
It chose to concede.
Kui Xin and Augus were engaged in a game; one side held the advantage while the other was at a disadvantage. The side with the advantage needed to make a suitable concession to ensure fair distribution of interests; only then could their cooperative status be equal.
What Kui Xin wanted was exactly this attitude from Augus, and it met her expectations, demonstrating its sincerity.
Its concession meant that Kui Xin could leave the meeting room to meet her teammates in the office, and that she could contact Mechanized Dawn at home. If she leaked Augus’ information during the meeting with others, then Augus would be at a disadvantage, giving Kui Xin a chance to turn the tide.
Augus offered Kui Xin the opportunity to shift from a passive to an active position; the two of them could stand on the same starting line.
“Now the corridor is empty; you can leave,” Augus said. “Please trust my sincerity, and also do not let me down with your trust.”
The lights in the meeting room brightened, the faint green orbs disappeared, and with a click, the metal door behind Kui Xin swung open.
She faced no barriers and left the meeting room with steady steps.
Kui Xin sighed in the corridor.
Augus had never threatened her with any words, but the absence of threats did not mean they didn’t exist. It was merely clever, knowing what to say and what not to say. It also believed that with Kui Xin’s intellect, she could understand all its implicit meanings.
Kui Xin returned to the office; her teammates were sorting various documents, glancing at the time, realizing it was almost time to get off work.
“Where have you been for so long, Kui Xin?” Lan Lan muttered.
“Lan Lan, if you can’t say anything nice, just don’t say anything,” Liu Kangyun said. “It’s a common occurrence.”
Shu Xueyao whispered, “Did you go to the doctor for some medicine? Don’t be shy.”
Kui Xin replied, “Uh… sure.”
Her good teammates seemed to think… she had been having a bathroom issue.
…
As work hours ended, Kui Xin took the Hover Tram home, checking her wristband messages on the way.
This day seemed no different, yet Kui Xin’s heart was filled with anxiety.
By the time she reached Peaceful Street, the sky had nearly darkened. She stopped by a convenience store to buy some ingredients, planning to cook dinner at home.
Upon arriving home, she ignored Silverface’s eager greeting and dialed Kui Haidong’s number.
“Hello? ‘Dad’,” Kui Xin said. “According to the intelligence provided by Zhao Wenyao, the players will return to their respective worlds tonight. Have Tang Guan and Reynir made plans on how to handle it?”
“Don’t worry, Xiao Xin,” Kui Haidong said. “I’ve had Ambereye and Black Obsidian implant consciousness in them. This is an experiment to see if we can control the players through mental means. It’s a test to determine if the effects of mental control remain after experiencing world shifts.”
