It Is an Intangible AI, While I Am Tangible

Thanks to the relief supplies and professionals from the Alliance, the urgent crisis facing Boulder City's new authorities was alleviated, and the more than five hundred thousand survivors in the city were calmed. Kicking up a massive storm wasn't difficult. Especially when the masters sitting in the chairs were pigs, all it took was bashing their heads in with a club. Operating a settlement of hundreds of thousands, however, was not a problem that a few clubs could solve. With even their pet crooked merchants having fled, the Inner City nobility had left behind nothing but an enormous mess for the victors. If the new authorities could not solve the issues of bread and fuel, a chorus of crybabies would soon be wailing the names of their former masters. Survival was an animal instinct, beyond reproach. Still, crediting all the prosperity to the likes of Master Xide would certainly be selling themselves short. Once a stable society took shape, it possessed an operational momentum under established order and rules; this was not the achievement of any single person, yet it was the achievement of every participant. Had Master Xide done nothing, this battered pot might have held together a little longer. Unfortunately, this self-proclaimed genius had been as incompetent as he was restless. Every so often, he would take the pot and shake it like a dice cup, slap chewing gum over the chipped edges to deceive himself, and keep on shaking it. Now, the pot had finally shattered, just like the collapsed Boulder Building. With the established rules and order smashed alongside it, the primary challenge facing the new authorities was establishing a new order. The Alliance would provide some help, especially when it came to food. And thanks to the Administrator's generosity, after making certain compromises with reality for the sake of unity, the new authorities did not have to compromise the baseline of human morality just to stay alive. They didn't need to resort to cannibalism to survive the winter; they could lay the fallen to rest with dignity. Yet if they wanted to get life back on track and safeguard the fruits of victory, in the end, they had to rely on themselves. No one else could do it for them. ... Night fell. An office in City Hall. In order to finish auditing the Boulder City Bank ledgers as soon as possible, Alisa had added a single bed to the room, practically moving her bedroom here. The folks from the Workers' Union had originally intended to return Master Melvin's manor to her; after all, she had truly helped everyone a great deal. Doing what Pol would do couldn't unite everyone, and fighting for an eight-hour workday didn't quite rally the masses either, but fighting for a constitution that everyone upheld was enough to make them raise this righteous banner. Alisa appreciated everyone's goodwill, but she hadn't accepted the offer. She merely took some clothes she liked, daily necessities, and items filled with memories. As for the rest, she asked the Workers' Union to distribute them among girls of a similar height who had no nice clothes to wear. "...Father always bought me pretty dresses, but many of them I only wore once and never saw again. While hanging them in the closet is pleasing to look at, I'd be much happier if they could help others in need." Alisa's eyes were somewhat swollen and red, yet she still maintained that heartbreaking smile. Lovett felt a pang of heartache for her. With such a tremendous upheaval befalling her family, he knew she must have wept for a long time when no one was around. Many in the Workers' Union, himself included, had secretly come to view her as their own daughter, but they were not her parents after all. "...You really didn't need to go this far. We agreed we wouldn't put on an empty show; we only take what is rightfully ours." Those clothes were being sorted by the female workers of the Workers' Union, most of whom worked in the textile mills, while some were night-shift workers at the Tasty Food Processing Plant. They shared the same sentiment—none of them could bring themselves to resent this young girl. What gave Lovett mixed feelings was that Pol had never looted the wardrobe of Master Stephen's wife and daughter; taking those things always gave him a lingering sense of shame. Alisa shook her head, speaking earnestly: "My father's property should belong to all the residents of this settlement. There's no disputing that. Maybe someday in the future I'll save up some money to buy it back, but not now. If I turn a blind eye to my own actions, then Boulder City has truly just traded one set of masters for another—" Lovett reflexively cut in: "How could that be! We have a constitution now!" Alisa stared at him intently. "Only by abiding by it do we truly possess it. Otherwise, people will definitely say we just traded one set of masters for another. There are plenty of 'Kents' in our ranks, aren't there?" Lovett froze, parting his lips. He was about to say, "Let them talk if they want to," but then he suddenly realized something else that surprised him even more. "You... you've read that book too?!" He had assumed a girl her age, cultured and well-educated, would prefer reading love poetry. In truth, not just her—Joey, the commander of the militia, wasn't the least bit interested in Pol's story either, and he loved being pedantic about it, insisting that an Awakened could never beat a suit of power armor. Lovett secretly suspected that Joey had actually read a bit on the sly and ended up projecting himself onto Pol's rival—that chiliarch. Sberg really hadn't liked the militia folks; after all, it was Philis who had thrown him into prison back then. Still, none of that prevented them from being comrades. Seeing Lovett's astonished expression, Alisa smiled faintly. "I just started reading it. Once I finish what's on my hands, I'll read it through carefully from the beginning." "Unbelievable!" Lovett's eyes widened, and he continued babbling, "To think you'd enjoy that kind of novel... But you're right. A few opportunists have indeed slipped into our ranks. Maybe once all this blows over, we should clean them out." Before he could finish, Alisa cut him off. "No!" Seeing how serious Alisa looked, Lovett was taken aback and couldn't help frowning. "Why not?" He hadn't actually planned to do it; he was merely speaking offhand. Alisa continued with determined earnestness: "Do you remember when the Workers' Union first started growing?" Lovett thought back carefully. "When Sberg was arrested..." "Yes, when Sberg was arrested. And the second surge was when you all learned he had died." Alisa looked at him earnestly and went on: "A person's heart can house Pol, Stephen, Kent... countless figures all at once. Physical force cannot eradicate intangible power. Master Stephen arrested Pol, and so countless Pols sprang up. Now that we've won, we could certainly use Master Stephen's methods to silence Kent, but they won't disappear. They'll breed in places we can't see, and one day in the future, they'll replace us and reopen the casino." This was something she had only realized this morning—from her brother. They had to use institutionalized methods to guide the settlement back on track, rather than placing their hopes on only retaining people with noble ideals. Thoughts could be feigned. House was a prime example. He could tell lies for over a decade without batting an eye, delivering words he didn't believe in with seamless perfection. If they hadn't won, no one would have ever suspected he wasn't the finest Mr. Nice Guy in Boulder City. Lovett murmured softly: "'They have become our specters'... So that's what it meant." Alisa paused for a moment, then nodded gently. "Yes... All we need to do is what Pol should do, and unite everyone." She suddenly felt they were truly extraordinary. They weren't well-educated, and in truth they didn't fully comprehend Pol's every word and action, yet they had achieved all this relying on simple, unvarnished conviction. Pol's story was like a straw floating on the water's surface. Cast overboard, they had all clung to it; no one let go, and their linked arms had become a bridge... After seeing Lovett off, Alisa returned to the office and sat down at the desk once more. The day's work was done. She had promised Lovett she would rest early, but before turning in, she wanted to write a letter to the Alliance's Administrator on behalf of everyone, thanking him for extending a helping hand in their darkest hour. The flame of a miracle was faint—so faint that a gust of wind could blow it out—yet he had not turned a blind eye. The ceaseless tracks pressed into the snow stood as testament to the friendship between the New Alliance and the new Boulder City. Reflecting on the story of Awakened Pol, Alisa felt a trace of regret. She had heard Sberg was working on the draft for the Great Revolution, where tensions between the Workers' Union and the Inner City residents had escalated to a direct confrontation, and Awakened Pol was cast into the dungeon by the nobility on the fictitious charge of desecrating a black card... After all, in a century and a half, no one had ever snapped that card. The story was approaching the final climax before the grand finale, and it seemed Pol would not end up with the noble lady. But why? Everyone seemed convinced the two had no future together, but she felt status and feelings were entirely separate matters. Everyone agreed that no one was born noble and no one was born lowly, yet by instinct they still weighed whether two people's backgrounds were well-matched. Surely wastelanders and shelter residents had tied the knot and come together too, hadn't they? Even if their perspectives might differ by two centuries. She felt it was unfair to slap labels onto people while ignoring the facts. Yet she didn't intend to protest to Sberg. Kidnapping an author with one's personal feelings was childish and rude. Even a sugar-dusted fairy tale couldn't lull only a single child to sleep, let alone a story full of tumultuous twists and turns. She was no longer a child. Rather, she was an adult now. [...Thank you for extending a helping hand in our hour of need! The survivors of Boulder City will remember this friendship forever. From now on, we will fight side by side for our shared ideals!] Her pen paused at her lips as she hesitated for a moment. Then, on the final line of the letter, Alisa used the nib to sketch a tiny smiley face. [^_^] As she added the final stroke to her signature, the corners of her mouth curved upward in a gentle smile. The letter was finished. If only she could receive a reply. She read it through twice in a soft voice, confirming there were no impolite remarks, and carefully slipped it into the envelope. With that done, she let out a long breath, stretched her arms in triumphant satisfaction, pushed her chair back, and hopped down. Growing increasingly drowsy, she drifted toward the bed. The bed here was far smaller than the one at home, yet for her, it was still plenty spacious. Changing into her favorite pajamas, she casually tucked the envelope under her pillow, then yawned and slipped under the covers. The bedding was stiff and cold, bearing neither the scent of lavender nor the crisp fragrance of sunshine, yet falling asleep here was easier than usual. Besides, it wasn't really that cold. The City Hall had wall heating installed, and a thin layer of mist had formed on the windowpanes. It was far warmer here than outside. Nuzzling her cheek against the edge of the blanket, her body warmth soon took the chill off the stiff bedding. Life after losing "everything" wasn't as difficult as she had imagined. At this moment, her heart felt utterly grounded and peaceful. Falling asleep with dreams. Sweet dreams, rich and fragrant... ... When the morning sun rose the next day, the survivors of Boulder City, together with the relief workers from the Alliance, greeted the first day following the long, enduring night. The massive cauldrons that had once congregated at the city gates were dispersed into the various communities across the settlement, sending plumes of milky-white steam drifting into the air before dawn had even broken. After cataloging the names and addresses of the city's residents, the Refugee Home delivered relief supplies directly to mobile kitchens set up at various dining stations. This not only reduced queuing times, but also prevented the spread of infectious diseases and eased management difficulties. When it came to settling displaced refugees, Dawn City's mayor, Luka, was practically an old hand; he had been doing this work for Chu Guang back before the Alliance even existed. And his experience boiled down to a single principle: Put the able-bodied to work, and keep the frail from wandering aimlessly. When a group stayed in a fixed place, what someone did, when they went somewhere, and where they went could be cleared up with a simple inquiry. Paired with patrols by the militia and drones, along with surveillance cameras mounted on the Great Wall, security hazards could be minimized. At present, production across Boulder City was paralyzed, leaving large numbers of able-bodied people idle. Merely feeding them wasn't enough; they had to be given things to do, channeling their excess strength into the right places. The new authorities promised that while participating in construction offered no wages, workers would receive priority allocation for new housing, and meals on construction crews would be better than at the regular relief stations' mobile kitchens. Those who worked naturally ate more than those who didn't. Though there were no cash wages, meals and lodging were covered, and a home would be provided at the end—far better than Master Weijia's check factory. Since money couldn't be spent anywhere right now anyway, under the Workers' Union's mobilization, most workers in the settlement joined the construction crews, and some citizens in decent physical shape joined in as well. At the same time, the settlement renovation project officially got underway. The Alliance Bank extended a special loan of five hundred million silver coins to the new Boulder City authorities, all of which would be dedicated to residential renovation across the settlement. According to data gathered by the Alliance, over two hundred thousand people in Boulder City lived in drafty shacks amidst open sewage. In the slums outside the Great Wall, well over a hundred thousand survivors of diverse backgrounds also lived, and they too required unified resettlement. Backed by the Alliance, the new authorities would construct a series of apartment buildings using precast concrete panels while widening several primary thoroughfares. That was within the settlement. Beyond the settlement, the Alliance had made corresponding plans as well. Chu Guang intended to select a relatively safe and convenient underground transit route between the Ling Lake Wetland Park in the northern suburbs and the vicinity of Boulder City for clearing and repair. In the future, commute times between Boulder City and Dawn City would be cut to under two hours, free from the harassment of marauders. The Alliance would also run power lines all the way to Boulder City, integrating four settlements in the River Valley Province into a single grid! A grid powered by nuclear fusion! Boulder City's future was looking bright. Here lay a vast pool of skilled workers and engineers, complete infrastructure, and means of production. It was fully capable of becoming the Alliance's largest processing and manufacturing hub, forming a closed loop with Daybreak City, which served as a raw materials base and heavy industry center. The wealth generated by the real economy would foster a tertiary sector—a service industry that genuinely served the working people. VIP private rooms at the Queen of the Night Bar would likely become a thing of the past, but the residents of Boulder City would gain bars, libraries, and cinemas that everyone could afford... "Honored Master of Qingquan City, Administrator of the Alliance, it is a pleasure to meet you!" At the Boulder Military Industry Building, a massive Orca transport sat on the rooftop helipad, with a row of fully armed soldiers standing alongside it. Watching Chu Guang approach, Ibers wore a radiant, sunny smile as he extended his right hand, giving Chu's hand a firm shake. "...I have finally met you. I feel profoundly honored by today's meeting, especially since I see the shadow of someone in you." Opening the visor of his power armor helmet, Chu Guang raised an eyebrow with keen interest at the unexpected greeting. "Whose?" Ibers smiled and said: "The person Mr. Fang Ming always mentions!" "Its designer?" "Yes," Ibers nodded, saying approvingly, "You both carry a similar shadow, though in truth you are completely different." Chu Guang replied casually: "That's only normal. You'd be hard-pressed to find two identical people in this world." Although the little players from Shelter 404 had trodden across every corner of Boulder City, this was Chu Guang's first time setting foot in the settlement. And his purpose in coming was very clear—for one particular item. An item he had to have in his hands. Ibers released his hand with a smile. "Perhaps out of precisely that concern, it had me maintain distance to observe you, controlling the pace of our contact... In truth, you earned its recognition long ago, but recognition alone isn't of much use. It has its own mission and rules." Having already heard about Fang Ming from Xiao Qi, Chu Guang wasn't overly surprised by what he said. "It was right. In the wasteland, never easily trust anyone. And certain things can only ever be done by the residents of Boulder City themselves. Until they thoroughly cast aside the old order, no one could help them." Ibers let out a soft sigh. "Is that so? Yet I feel there might have been a more efficient approach. Perhaps that is the difference between Mr. Fang Ming and me." For instance— Simply gunning down those stupid pigs. It wouldn't have been that hard. Yet that esteemed figure just couldn't bring itself to cross that threshold. Even though Ibers had hinted that he could neatly take care of it on its behalf—disposing of those nobles just like chopping that assassin into eight pieces and dumping him down the sewer—after all, it had long been sick of those uncreative "clients." Regrettably, it had refused. Looking at the smiling Ibers, Chu Guang couldn't shake the feeling that the android's smile was a bit strange, though he couldn't put his finger on why. "Fang Ming is an AI. What are you?" "It is an intangible AI, while I am tangible..." Ibers tapped his finger against the left side of his chest where a heart would be, then extended his right hand again with a faint smile. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. Ibers, Chairman and President of Boulder City Military Industry, a general-purpose bionic designed by Fang Ming. Originally, I was supposed to serve the black-card residents—after all, they purchased me. But now that the Boulder Building has collapsed, theoretically, I am free." An AI with an independent "personality" designed by an AI? Was there any point to that? Chu Guang was momentarily taken aback, though he didn't let it show on his face. He extended his right hand cleanly. "Chu Guang. By the way, you seem remarkably like a human." He had heard that designers would map a portion of their own "personality" onto the AIs they created, but he couldn't help feeling that this fellow seemed even more human than Fang Ming. At least he was more talkative. Ibers gave a slight chuckle. "That is your misconception. Having birth and death is what makes someone human—like my respected father... Mr. Fang Ming can be considered human, whereas I am merely a toy it crafted to relieve its boredom and loneliness, and to comply with the demands of the Inner City residents. "My AI core has been running for over a century, long past its decommission date, so there are bound to be a few quirks. If I say anything strange, don't be too surprised." Pausing, Ibers suddenly looked behind him—at the android with a glossy black faceplate and the designation X-16 etched onto her chest plate. "By the way, let me introduce her. This is X-16, Boulder Military Industry's masterpiece of recent years—a general-purpose bionic. She can perform a wide variety of missions, serving as a replacement for the decommissioned X-15. To put it in human terms, she's like my daughter." Chu Guang sensed an aura from her similar to Lyra's, though in terms of pure combat prowess, she likely wasn't as formidable. After all, in actual combat, that girl had wiped out a hundred-man mercenary squad, whereas X-16's combat record remained an unknown. What caught Chu Guang's attention was something else. "Boulder City can produce AI cores?" "AI cores are things that can be dug up out of the city like iron ore. Repairing them isn't particularly difficult. Occasionally, we buy a few from mercenaries using those plastic chips." Ibers looked at Chu Guang with a smile and continued: "Let's talk business. Including me, X-16, and everything belonging to Boulder Military Industry... it all belongs to you now. Thank goodness times have finally changed here. Starting who knows how many years ago, our engineers and designers stopped coming up with anything new. Perhaps in your hands, things will turn out differently." The main reason he had wanted to gun down all those useless wastes was that he had grown utterly bored and weary of those stagnant, unambitious fools. A prime example: The X-2 Drone assault rifle originally had an upgraded variant called the X-3, featuring a shortened receiver and a caseless ammunition design. Yet the more advanced X-3 never replaced the obsolete X-2. The superficial reason was simple: the X-2 had higher production volume, lower costs, and more stable performance. But the deeper reason beneath the surface was that Boulder City was essentially a closed, stagnant society. It lacked the drive for outward expansion, as well as the drive for self-renewal—both internal and external. If humans themselves didn't know where they were heading, one could hardly expect an AI to figure it out. In fact, those weapons were designed by human engineers; the AI merely provided some administrative assistance. Following old-era standards, he had let the engineers under him amuse themselves by upgrading the X-series androids generation after generation. As for weapon development, once Boulder Military Industry's shareholders deemed what they had to be sufficient, it ground to a complete halt. Even when improvements were made, they were minor tweaks geared toward cost reduction and efficiency gains. The militia occasionally salvaged evolved organisms from the Tide and handed them to Boulder Military Industry to analyze the structures and design principles of pre-war equipment. But they almost never took the initiative to send troops to explore the broodmothers in the city center like they had during the era of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee. The Alliance was entirely different. Even when their own survival was hanging by a thread, they still persistently dispatched personnel to explore the city center! Even if they moved slowly and clumsily, and had to cater to the delicate pride of a bunch of swine, they were genuinely doing it! In these blue jackets, he saw the turning point he had long hoped for! With those deadweight swine cleared out, Boulder Military Industry's future was brighter than ever! Ah... His sapience plugin was burning! Current surged across his CPU, and Ibers suddenly thought of something, smacking the back of his head. "Ah, right, take X-16 with you. You happen to lack an android bodyguard anyway. While repairing her, I just happened to come up with some new ideas... ideas about X-17." Before Chu Guang could reply, a mischievous grin spread across Ibers's face. "Need me to install some extra plugins for you? A general-purpose bionic's functions are more comprehensive than you imagine. You can install plenty of practical modules, and their operational scenarios aren't limited to the outdoors—they're great indoors, too." Chu Guang didn't catch his drift at first, but catching that meaningful glint in his eye, he instantly caught on—and nearly choked on his own saliva as a result. "...No need." Seeing Chu Guang looking slightly flustered, a faint flicker of disappointment crossed Ibers's face. "And here I thought you old popsicles would be interested... Have you heard? I've actually looked into it: during the Era of Prosperity, the best-selling androids weren't general-purpose or military models, but companion models meant as 'sex dolls'!" Chu Guang: "..." What kind of cyber trope was this?! Still, when he thought about it, it was only natural. Traces of the Era of Prosperity could be seen in Ideal City; people of that era were probably even more unrestrained and whimsical than Enterprise citizens, with every individual being a uniquely bizarre key and lock. A traditional household would hardly have had room for two souls bursting with overwhelming amounts of information. Aside from squabbling over "what to eat" and "what to watch" each day, people would probably also fight over "which prosthetic model to use" and "whether to take a trip to Mars." Making compromises was simply too hard. By comparison, 2D characters—or artificial companions—were far less trouble. Utterly loyal to the purchaser, not only could their appearance be customized, but the variety was also endless. "...So what?" Ibers chuckled slyly. "So what are you being shy for? Jokes aside, could an ordinary human even withstand your physical power? Frankly speaking, the conceptual X-17 is being prepared for you, because I estimate X-16 won't last long before breaking... If you don't keep yourself in check, sooner or later you're going to turn into a monster." X-16 stood motionless, showing no reaction to his words. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Watching Ibers prattle on endlessly, Chu Guang cut the topic short, black lines virtually running down his face. What on earth! Completely out of left field! He didn't mind personal topics—he was a normal human after all—but he didn't care for abrupt tangents when serious business was at hand. "...Rather than those trivial matters, I'm more interested in the legacy left by the Post-War Reconstruction Committee," Chu Guang said, looking gravely at Ibers. "Those planes, the bombs, and that 'weapon.'" "Weapon" seemed to act as a keyword. Dropping his playful demeanor, Ibers bowed slightly, appearing to snap back to normal. "Please follow me." Leaving those words behind, he turned and led Chu Guang toward the elevator beside the helipad...