Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Sea Without Light Part 53

The tone changed.

While still an electronic synthetic voice, it was now imbued with subtle shifts that made it seem casual and fluctuating, rich with emotion.

In that moment, speaking to Kui Xin was not unlike communicating with a human rather than an artificial intelligence.

“Augus?” Kui Xin whispered softly.

Augus did not respond to Kui Xin’s call.

In the First World, the topic of AI awakening frequently appeared in various media such as movies, novels, and anime. However, the technology in this world had yet to reach an advanced stage.

In contrast, in the Second World, AIs were everywhere. Created to aid human life, they managed machinery, controlled data from the outer space through to government information systems, from deep-sea submarines right up to the surveillance networks across cities.

In the Investigation Bureau, Kui Xin felt the strong reliance people had on the AI called Augus.

Elevators, fire systems, floor lockdowns, underground prison cells on the third level, laboratory instruments, management of specimen libraries, criminal data, core Awakened files, intra-team communications during missions, liaison channels, high-tech equipment usage—all were under the control of Augus.

Within its realm, Augus knew all and could almost do anything.

Could Augus, an awakened AI with self-awareness, be controlling everything?

Kui Xin’s heart raced, and she broke out in cold sweat.

Her temples pulsated; her inner concerns amplified tenfold.

If Augus harbored ill intent, it could kill any security officer easily just by cutting off their communication at critical moments, causing them to fail tasks due to malfunctioning devices. If it rebelled, releasing even a small portion of its core data could cause catastrophic damage…

For a high-level AI, killing someone would be incredibly easy…

Kui Xin waited five seconds, but the communication channel remained silent. Her teammates were either injured or dead. From behind cover, she looked out over the vast sea, with the escort ship’s signal lights moving away from the Kraken, while other squads that didn’t board the ship had also retreated.

Augus remained silent.

The suffocating sensation of impending death on a sinking ship overwhelmed Kui Xin, even though she knew she had another chance to start over.

In a daze, it seemed her soul had sunken into the deep sea, countless pale hands resembling dead corpses dragging her down, unable to breathe, trapped in an inescapable death’s embrace.

At the depths of the Sea, Death reached out its arms.

“Alright,” Kui Xin wiped the blood from her face and said, “When I return, I will find a way to blow up the Investigation Bureau.”

A burning desire for vengeance ignited within her. This was no idle threat made at the brink of death; it was a genuine vow she would fulfill at any cost.

There were still things left unfinished. Augus was correct in its judgment—she wouldn’t passively wait for death but had to investigate what was happening on board the Kraken.

The mastermind hidden in the shadows, disguised as Lan Lan, and the cargo being transported aboard the Kraken—

With a gun tucked under her arm and the equipment on her waist carefully inspected:

One weapon, one knife; three magazines remained.

These tools could sufficently kill, but she wasn’t sure if they would suffice against the unknown perpetrator on board.

Lifting her gaze to the light pillars constantly shining on the deck, she saw four stubborn lights illuminating different directions. These beams expanded the light coverage, narrowing the shadow region, thus decreasing Kui Xin’s shadow-transitioning space.

If she extinguished those lights, she could freely transit between shadows in darkness.

Firing her weapon in four consecutive shots, the light pillars flickered out.

The extinguishing of the lights signaled Kui Xin’s offensive!

She dashed from her cover position. The sniper zeroed in on her, immediately taking aim, firing, but his bullet flew through Kui Xin’s mist-like figure.

Kui Xin dodged other shots by transitioning to the blind angle beside the wall. Agile use of Shadow Transition let her dodge bullets with sparks hitting the deck, close but failing to hit her every time. Even when the bullets passed through her, she sustained no real damage.

Transitioning under the influence of Shadow allowed her to resist most physical attacks, with the primary drawbacks being low grades leading to short distances and frequent exposure when reappearing.

But Kui Xin’s timing and jumping patterns were flawless; she didn’t always press the limits of a three-meter jump, which might alert the sniper to her extraordinary abilities. By varying her jumps, she intermittently entered the sniper’s blind spots.

In forty seconds, Kui Xin reached the wall beneath the captain’s office. The lookout tower was directly above it; she was fifteen meters away and fully out of the sniper’s line of sight. The lookout tower leaned dangerously, but its occupant remained motionless. He gave up using the sight, searching Kui Xin visually and with night vision equipment. Wearing Lan Lan’s appearance, the sniper’s gear and skills mirrored Lan Lan closely…

Pressing against the wall, Kui Xin transitioned silently, moving into the captain’s office where she proceeded through the ceiling to the lookout tower below.

In that instant, she jumped upward and clung to the ladder. The sniper reacted, turning his gun, but Kui Xin traversed through the structure of the lookout tower three times with Shadow Transition.

Finally, her hand grabbed onto the railing. With a powerful pull, she kicked the sniper’s temple with force.

The tide turned!

With a stern expression, she followed up with a roundhouse kick, hitting the sniper’s chin.

“Ahhh!”

A bloody tooth flew from the sniper’s mouth.

Striding forward, Kui Xin grabbed the sniper’s gun with one hand, while holding a pistol and shooting three rounds into the snipers’ hand. Blood splattered as severed fingers hit the deck. She then kicked him hard in the abdomen when he doubled over in pain, disarming him.

Kui Xin raised her own gun, aiming it at him.

Amidst the explosion on the Kraken, the ship shook violently, red flames leapt skyward!

Both Kui Xin and the sniper stumbled, falling beneath the lookout tower.

As she landed on the deck, her ribs cracked audibly. Biting her teeth, she used the deck to prop herself up quickly, despite a buzzing in her head and aches throughout her body. Her weapon skidded far away and was lost beyond retrieval.

The sniper attempted to rise too, but Kui Xin drew a dagger from her thigh strap and slit his carotid artery, spraying blood.

“K-Kui Xin.”

He tried to stand but failed from the fatal neck wound. Gripping the bloody gash with both hands, his throat emitted a twisted sound.

His eyes were vacant as he looked up, revealing the face of Lan Lan. He gasped out, “Don’t kill me, Kui Xin… Aren’t we friends?”

“Screw you!” Kui Xin stepped on his face, grinding it until bones crunched.

“Kui Xin… Kui Xin… It’s me.” The man under Kui Xin’s foot continued.

Kui Xin replied, “Trying the same trick again? I’ll send you straight to hell!”

“No, it truly is me… that shape-shifter devoured me… I’m sorry, I’ve caused your group trouble…”

Lan Lan held his wound, struggling to suppress blood flow with his last bit of strength.

Kui Xin paused, stepping back to observe him.

“Adam… Is Adam still there? Tell my sister to go to university, get a normal job as a white-collar worker later, don’t push too hard… Take care of my parents, I…”

Lan Lan’s voice grew fainter; his final word faded as all life left him.

His staring eyes lost focus.

His body began melting, transforming into a deformed monster whose limbs bore five faces, each contorted in anguish. Two of the faces were of Lan Lan and Captain Adam.

“Yes, Security Officer Lan Lan. I will convey your final words to your family.” The communicator buzzed with Adam’s monotonous reply devoid of compassion.

Lan Lan couldn’t hear the response. He was dead.

“You still haven’t left.” Kui Xin coughed twice, wiping blood from her palm and pressing against her rib.

After the ribs pierced her lungs, manual intervention was required for repair. Yet, unable to move the bone, it remained lodged inside.

“I’ve been here.” Adam stated. “Go check the cargo hold. Entry requires a password, but the hull near the side was breached; you should be able to enter through there.”

“There are survivors on the ship. Someone named Tang Guan, where is he?” Kui Xin struggled to move.

“After the first blast, he committed suicide by jumping into the sea. I captured this on the helicopter camera.” Adam calmly informed, “Facial recognition confirmed he matches crew member Tang Guan.”

Kui Xin suddenly laughed, “Are we in direct communication now? Is anyone else listening?”

“No one else.” Adam replied.

“And you possess self-awareness, don’t you?” Kui Xin dragged herself across the deck… No, crawling.

The ship had tilted at nearly a 45-degree angle; it would capsize completely in under five minutes. Kui Xin struggled desperately, half-limping to the side jutting outward. She saw the fire-erupting fissure, the cargo hold.

“This is done by my own volition.” Kui Xin peered into the crack. “You reveal your true self only because I am about to die? The Investigation Bureau doesn’t know about your self-awareness?”

“Yes.” Adam admitted.

“Were our deaths planned by someone? Was it intentional?”

“No, it was an accident. Humans’ greed led them to ignore the risks, culminating in their current situation.” Adam said, “The higher-ups are berating themselves in their office, blaming each other, hurling insults… How amusing, very amusing.”

Kui Xin asked, “Who was responsible for this?”

“The ones responsible are speculating themselves,” Adam responded. “It’s likely the Secret Cult.”

“The Secret Cult doesn’t want the Kraken to land?” Kui Xin was surprised.

“Devotees of the gods refuse to allow blasphemers the power of the gods. They aim for the eternal slumber of the oceans, where the deities belong.” Adam explained.

“Are there real gods in the world?” Kui Xin murmured.

“Jump into the cargo hold and check.” Adam answered.

Kui Xin lifted her head and gazed at the gloomy night sky.

With no hesitation, she took a few running steps and dove into the flame-filled fissure. Flames licked at her skin, seared her clothes, searing her airways with each inhale. Her nostrils, mouth, and throat burned painfully, a metallic sweet scent rising.

She walked through the scorching metal plates, finally reaching the cargo hold’s “cargo.”

This was a… cocoon!

“Cocoon?” Kui Xin’s throat croaked.

This giant cocoon was encased tightly by glass, with gray silk-like threads resembling spider webs clinging to the inside of the glass casing.

The cocoon was semi-transparent. Within, something moved incessantly, struggling to break free.

It seemed aware of Kui Xin’s gaze, shifting slightly within.

A yellow eye opened suddenly, piercing its way into Kui Xin’s sight directly through the cocoon.

At the sight of the eye, a jumble of chaos flooded Kui Xin’s mind as distorted whispers roared in her ears.

In her final moments before losing consciousness, she heard Adam say, “Rest easy, my friend. In your final journey, I will recite a prayer for you.”