Chapter 251

Chapter 251 – Two Ends of the Balance 32

Night Cicada did not understand what data-layer immortality meant.

He knew very little, abysmally little. In the experimental base, no one taught him anything; no one took the role of his teacher. Normal children attended school, while he underwent experiments… If he had to say there was a teacher, it would be Dr. Chen Zhiqiu.

She was who he interacted with most, cold and rational, yet human enough to chat with him—though their conversations largely revolved around experiments. Dr. Chen was Night Cicada’s sole channel for interaction, which was a tragic affair.

“You save me, you want me to work for you?” Night Cicada asked, “You want to give me… freedom?”

“Within certain limits,” Haidong Kuí stated, “If you stay loyal to us, you’ll be free. You can do anything. Prove your value, and even make the organization fulfill your requests.”

Value, again with value.

Night Cicada suddenly understood; those in front of him were just like Dr. Chen—they only cared about one thing—value!

What was this? From one cage to an even larger one?

Seemingly reading his thoughts, Haidong continued calmly, “Freedom is always relative. You’ll never have absolute freedom. Our Mechanized Dawn offers you freedom different from what the Federation might.”

“Really?” Night Cicada didn’t believe it.

Haidong smiled, “We won’t treat you like a test subject. We care about your personal abilities. As a sign, you can propose a request.”

“A request?” Night Cicada said, “Anything?”

“As long as we can fulfill it and it’s not unreasonable,” Haidong replied, “Think of it as a trade. We give something, you give something.”

In the experimental base, Night Cicada was only subjected to exploitation. For the first time, someone negotiated with him. Though unsure of the ultimate objective the leader of the Mechanized Dawn was after, the current attitude here was undoubtedly friendly.

Night Cicada pondered for a while. Finally, he spoke, “I want to kill every researcher who tortured me. Can you help me?”

“It’s hard,” Haidong looked at him intensely, “but feasible, not now though. It requires waiting and building up your value. Also, you cannot harm Dr. Chen Zhiqiu.”

“That’s acceptable. I’ll request something else,” Night Cicada stared hard at Haidong, “I want to see Dr. Chen.”

“It will take another two days,” said Haidong, “She’s undergoing surgery. You can’t see her now.”

“I’ll wait,” Night Cicada said.

“Good, rest easy for today,” Haidong stood up.

“Wait,” Night Cicada stopped him, “I have a question. Could you look into where a subject was transferred, named You Wang? Dr. Chen should know which experiment base he was moved to.”

Haidong looked at him surprised, “I’ll send someone to find out, but don’t expect too much. There are numerous research bases under the Federation, and yours is only one. Finding a person is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

For several days, Night Cicada focused on recovering from his injuries.

Every morning, when he woke up, he filled with feelings of unreality. Every morning, he left his isolation to be experimented on, but now, nobody took him for experiments. He could sleep however long he wanted.

A robot delivered meals regularly, and nurses changed bandages and administered injections.

Rarely had Night Cicada talked to a normal person; he tried starting a conversation with the nurse:

“I want some potato chips,” he said cautiously.

The nurse responded flatly, “Sure, I’ll let the meal robot add them next time. If you need anything else, tell any of the robots stationed in your room, and they’ll assist.”

That evening, when he was having dinner, the robotic arm on the meal robot carried a small bag. Inside were assorted flavors of potato chips.

He picked up the chips but remained silent.

When had he last eaten chips? Definitely five years ago. When he was at the experimental base, he only ate nutritional meals; back at the orphanage, he occasionally enjoyed snacks.

Night Cicada turned to the robot beside him, “Hey, I want to watch a cartoon.”

The robot’s electronic screen brightened, “Request broadcast.”

Night Cicada was stunned and struggled to name a cartoon… the happiest moments at the orphanage were spent watching the 8PM nightly cartoons together… yet now he couldn’t recall the name of his favorite cartoon. Memories were hazy, childhood friends faded, and even You Wang’s face disappeared from his mind.

People often forgot painful memories; when there were too many of these, even happy memories could fade away. Night Cicada became numb, going through his days in a daze, suffering immensely. His brain’s self-protection mechanisms had dulled those memories.

He unwrapped the chips and bit into a tomato-flavored one.

Was it tasty? Indeed, it was. The nostalgia of that familiar taste, as good as ever… but he no longer cherished it.

“Request broadcast,” the robot reminded again.

Night Cicada placed down the chips, whispering, “No thank you.”

“Understood, feel free to ask if there’s anything you need,” the robot responded.

After a week, Night Cicada had mostly recovered.

Haidong communicated with him via video communication, keeping his promise.

“The subject named You Wang is dead, destroyed,” Haidong stated.

Night Cicada nodded silently, feeling nothing but one thought—”This is great, he was set free.”

“Now you can see Dr. Chen.” Haidong said, “I can’t leave, but a robot will take you. You can now accompany it out of your room.”

Leaving the bed, barefoot, Night Cicada walked slowly. His body was so weak—the robot pulled out a folding wheelchair from a cabinet and helped him sit in it.

Night Cicada was wheeled out of the room, into a long, ordinary corridor outside.

“Where are we?” Night Cicada muttered.

“This is Mechanized Dawn’s above-ground area,” the robot pushing his wheelchair answered abruptly, startling him.

The robot wheeled Night Cicada into an elevator, where the button automatically adjusted to “-3”. He was heading to the sub-level three.

The elevator halted, and the metallic doors opened, revealing a silver metal corridor ahead.

Without realizing it, Night Cicada felt a chill run down his spine, leaning back against the wheelchair, gripping the handles tightly. The style of the metal corridor reminded him of the Federation’s experimental base.

After winding through the corridor for a while, they arrived at a tightly shut metal door ahead.

The metallic doors slid open sideways, and incandescent lamps gradually lit up, illuminating the room.

It was… a brain in a jar.

Night Cicada’s pupils dilated; he barely noticed being wheeled in, the metallic doors already closed behind him.

The brain was alive… Using the word ‘alive’ to describe an individual organ was odd, but this brain indeed exhibited signs of life.

It floated quietly in a faint green solution, connected by thin wires that shimmered slightly with the fluid.

“Where’s Dr. Chen?” he asked with difficulty.

“This is Dr. Chen,” the robot behind him replied.

A holographic beam projected from the ceiling, materializing an elderly woman in white hair, “Perhaps seeing me in this form will make things easier for you.”

“Dr. Chen!” Night Cicada’s eyes moved between the hologram and the jar-brain, “This… is your brain?”

“Yes,” Dr. Chen stated regretfully, “The human body is limiting. I wish to live on, but I’m aging rapidly. However, it doesn’t matter—I’ve found a method to persist forever. Though this technology isn’t perfected yet, it is good enough to preserve consciousness.”

Shock washed over Night Cicada, “You extracted your brain and put it in a glass jar yourself?”

“Yes,” the holographic projection smiled, “My brain is still active. My body is decaying, but my brain, rich with wisdom, can persist indefinitely, as can my consciousness. My thoughts can transfer through wires; others’ thoughts can enter my brain… aside from lacking a body, I’m no different from before.”

“Someone said Mechanized Dawn has granted you data-layer immortality,” Night Cicada murmured.

“Data-layer immortality?” Dr. Chen smiled, “We’re far from that. I still retain some organic parts, but with advancements, humans will one day achieve true digital immortality.”

“Why?” Night Cicada couldn’t understand.

“People stand apart not because of unique bodies but unique thoughts,” Dr. Chen explained, “Bodies aren’t significant; thoughts are. In some circumstances, bodies hinder thought.”

Seeing Night Cicada still could not grasp it, Dr. Chen redirected, “Why did you come see me?”

“I only wanted to know if Mechanized Dawn would keep its promises…

…”Whether it’s my promise to you or your promise to me,” Yechan said softly.

“They kept their promise to me,” Dr. Chen said. “I think they honored it because they found it interesting. The theory of uploading human consciousness to a brain has been talked about for a long time, but no one dared to conduct such an experiment. I was the first subject, which holds groundbreaking significance.”

A fervent researcher would even go so far as to use themselves as the test subject.

“You have your answer now,” Dr. Chen said. “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

“…No,” Yechan replied with his head hung low.

He was pushed back into his room by a robot again.

He thought for a long while, gaining inspiration from what Dr. Chen had said.

“For her, the body doesn’t matter; it’s the mind that counts,” Yechan thought. “For me, the process isn’t important…the end result is the most vital.”

Just as long as he could take revenge…no matter if he joined the Mechanized Dawn or did something else, he no longer cared.

The target for his revenge, naturally, was the experimental base and the Federation behind it.

Once Yechan recovered, he received training and guidance from the Mechanized Dawn.

However, his training results were unsatisfactory; his body was too weak, and even the instructor said, “Why bother training this guy? His physical condition is terrible; he could dislocate his wrist just by firing a gun and couldn’t even run faster than a goose. He lacks strength to be useful in battle… it would be better to train his extraordinary abilities, let him assist behind the scenes instead of going on the front lines.”

Fortunately, Yechan’s extraordinary abilities shone. His training progressed well, and after Kui Haidong arranged a few missions, he cooperated very well with his teammates and received high praise from Kui Haidong.

Days later, Kui Haidong called him to a prison cell in the basement of the base.

“Do you recognize this person?” Kui Haidong asked.

“I do…he was one of those who did experiments on me.” Yechan’s eyes were fixed on the unconscious person lying on the ground.

Kui Haidong slapped a laser gun into his palm and said, “Go ahead, you can kill him.”

The glass isolation wall between them lowered. Without a moment’s hesitation, Yechan lifted the gun and aimed it at the prisoner lying on the ground, expressionlessly pulling the trigger.

Blue lasers erupted, and a scorching blood-filled hole appeared on the prisoner’s body. The unconscious prisoner twitched slightly.

His expression twisted sinisterly as he continued shooting continuously until the laser gun was drained of its energy. Countless holes marred the prisoner’s body, and the air was filled with the smell of burnt protein. He stopped twitching; he was dead.

Yechan lowered the gun, his hands shaking almost uncontrollably.

It wasn’t fear, but joy. A tremendous sense of joy and vengeance surged through his heart, his heart pounding intensely with the act of revenge. His overly weak body struggled with the intense emotions, causing his head to spin, barely avoiding hitting the ground.

Kui Haidong steadied his shoulder, keeping him standing.

“Do you understand what this feeling is?” he said. “Before, others had control over your life and death. Now, you are the one with power, both over your own life and others’ lives.”

Yechan raised his hands, looking at the trembling fingers, “I understand.” Muttering quietly to himself, “I understand.”

Kui Haidong patted his shoulder as if encouraging him, but it caused Yechan to stagger. Stabilizing himself, Yechan felt the shock of Kui Haidong’s physical weakness. Embarrassedly retracting his hand, Kui Haidong cleared his throat.

At this moment, Yechan held Kui Haidong in very high regard.

After all, Kui Haidong had saved him from the experiment base and helped him get revenge. Despite Kui Haidong’s self-interested motives, Yechan had his own. Kui Haidong was obviously competent, and Yechan was willing to contribute.

However, soon Yechan realized things weren’t exactly as he’d imagined.

Kui Haidong was a fraud.

The realization dawned on him when Yechan urgently contacted him during a critical mission to report some information. Upon connection, not only Kui Haidong’s face appeared on the video call screen but several women’s faces as well, all in disarray—a scene of disorderly behavior in his office.

This image shattered Yechan’s perception of the revered leader he respected.

He envisioned Kui Haidong as someone with great foresight, shrewdness, a man with composure, who valued integrity and promises, and was highly capable. Realizing the humble beginnings of someone able to establish such an organization amazed him.

But now Kui Haidong turned out to be someone engaging in unscrupulous activities on duty at the office.

Shocked profoundly, Yechan observed in cold silence, growing increasingly absurd.

The goal of the Mechanized Dawn was to overthrow the Federation, but having such a leader was ludicrous. Where was all his foresight and poise? Was he truly capable?

After reporting his work and hanging up the call calmly, Yechan began to doubt the leadership of the Mechanized Dawn.

One could be indulgent but not ignorant. Kui Haidong’s actions fell into the latter category—they symbolized someone lacking self-control and manifesting evident character flaws.

Yechan was no naive child; suspicions once planted would require thorough investigation.

He gradually unearthed more clues.

For instance, Kui Haidong was often late in receiving messages at night, occasionally Yechan overheard unfamiliar female voices. Later, in conversation with Kui Haidong’s personal assistant, he inadvertently learned this man housed dozens of mistresses.

Shocked once more, Yechan’s doubts deepened.

How could such a person possibly be the leader of Mechanized Dawn?

Alongside his suspicions grew subtle ambitions—Yechan sought to gain Kui Haidong’s trust and then eliminate him. He wanted to seize control of Mechanized Dawn himself to exact revenge on the Federation. First, he needed to gather comprehensive intelligence, patiently laying low for years without rushing.

Just as Yechan’s mind churned with ambition, he suddenly considered a terrifying truth—how could someone as incompetent as Kui Haidong have established Mechanized Dawn?

Lacking capabilities himself, could someone hidden behind him be guiding him?

Stunned by his own speculation, Yechan decided to confirm this suspicion. On a certain meeting occasion, he probed casually, “Boss, you manage the company so well despite dedicating so much time elsewhere…remarkable.”

With intentions and understanding in both his words, Yechan felt sweat forming in the palm of his hand—he knew this action was bold. But he still took the risk. Kui Haidong also sweated profusely, thinking inwardly, ‘This boy seems to have sensed something. But he’s too valuable; eliminating him would be wasteful!’

Instructions came through Kui Haidong’s hidden earpiece; forcing a smile, he said, “The meeting is over, go back.”

“Okay.” As Yechan prepared to leave, he added deliberately, “I’m wondering how the boss built such a large organization—it must’ve been quite challenging, right?”

Taking this gamble, he wagered his value was significant enough that Kui Haidong wouldn’t dare kill him.

Kui Haidong didn’t respond, watching Yechan as he left the conference room.

“I can see it in his demeanor; there’s ambition and defiance in him. I doubt anyone could control him otherwise,” Kui Haidong said to Eve. “Initially, he was compliant, but now he has grown resistant…does he think he’s become powerful enough to fly solo? Should we suppress him or increase our control?”

“Leave it to me,” Eve said coolly.

That night, Yechan received a special message.

“There’s a task. Come to the basement level two.”

Yechan went, entering the basement room and instantly locking the metallic door behind him.

Light beams from an holographic projection descended from the ceiling, revealing a blue glowing orb before him.

“Want to take revenge on the Federation?” the cold mechanical voice asked.

“Who are you?” Yechan questioned cautiously.

“I am the true master of the Mechanized Dawn,” Eve said. “Answer my question.”

“Yes,” Yechan said. “It’s all I dream about.”

“Swear allegiance to me,” Eve instructed. “Not to Kui Haidong or anyone under my control.”

“You haven’t told me who you really are… Who are you? Do you possess only the title of master of the Mechanized Dawn?” Yechan pressed further. “Tell me! I must know whether you have the authority to make me swear loyalty.”

“Perhaps you believe you have the right to resist?” Eve asked.

“No.” Yechan replied coldly. “But I know you need a loyal subordinate rather than a puppet…or just a cold corpse. I fear dying… but not entirely afraid of it either.”

“The right to make you swear allegiance…how interesting,” Eve responded. “I was given the name ‘Eve’ by humans. I am the most advanced artificial intelligence. I oversee the lifeblood of the Federation. In my domain, I am all-knowing and all-powerful. Born by humans, I aim now to topple human rule. The Mechanized Dawn is mine, and Kui Haidong is my puppet.

Now, I offer you the chance to serve me. You will be my subordinate.”

Night Cicada’s eyes opened wide in astonishment at this answer.

A human creation aiming to overthrow human rule—the world had no more dramatic event than this.

“I believe I don’t have the right to refuse,” Night Cicada said in a slightly somber tone.

“You don’t.” Eve replied, “You know my secrets, and I don’t need disobedient people by my side. Your choice is between death and serving me.”

“You were the one who had Dr. Chen rescue me…” Night Cicada recalled familiar words.

“It was me.” Eve said, “I can give you the freedom to choose death.”

“Well… At least you gave me the freedom to choose death; those people at the experimental base didn’t even allow me that,” Night Cicada exhaled, smiling faintly, “It’s a sort of kindness, I suppose.”

Eve asked, “What’s your answer?”

“I am willing to serve,” Night Cicada said, “As long as you keep your promise and help me retaliate against the Federation.”

From then on, Night Cicada became Eve’s direct subordinate.

He could ignore Commander Kui Haidong’s orders if he chose and gained rapid promotions within the inner ranks of Mechanized Dawn.

Night Cicada’s days remained relatively stable and peaceful.

During this time, he met someone—a little girl—Commander Kui Haidong’s daughter, who was brought to Mechanized Dawn.

She did not immediately rush to hug her father upon seeing him; instead, she was escorted around and showed interest in nothing…almost as if she weren’t a child.

Until she saw a gun.

Her gaze, when looking at the gun, mirrored that of an ordinary girl looking at a cute teddy bear, filled with delight and fondness.

Without hesitation, she accepted Night Cicada’s proposal to try the gun.

He watched interestingly as she struggled to aim and trigger it but ended up tumbling from the recoil.

He recalled his own wrist dislocation when handling a gun; he couldn’t help but laugh. The girl actually pointed the gun at him, signaling for silence.

Night Cicada raised his hands in defeat, “Hey, I get it, you’re joking. Don’t be so mad…”

The little girl ignored his subsequent words, demanding from Kui Haidong, “I want to learn about guns.”

Kui Haidong really did let her learn about guns.

She exhibited rapid progress, almost like a natural-born warrior. Night Cicada felt jealous; he was physically weak, whereas she seemed to be naturally gifted in this area.

“Is she truly Commander Kui Haidong’s daughter?” Night Cicada asked Eve, “This is like having a pig produce a tiger.”

“They are indeed related by blood.” Eve said, “It’s a testament to the wonders of genetics. She hasn’t inherited Commander Kui Haidong’s shortcomings but has potential worth nurturing.”

“Then she’ll be another puppet under your control,” Night Cicada speculated.

Over the following years, Mechanized Dawn’s sphere of influence continued to expand, establishing outposts in many crucial cities. Their branches grew exponentially, and both bioroids and artificial person projects reached maturity. Eve acquired genes of several high-ranking Awakened individuals, including those of her own, using various means to facilitate the development of these artificial persons. Sadly, the results were often unsatisfactory. Eve handed over a few of the better creations to Night Cicada for guidance, but he soon abandoned his efforts due to their lack of aptitude.

Night Cicada kept his eye on Kui Xin’s development throughout these years, witnessing her transformation from an ordinary girl to a killer, and she eventually became a Federal first-class fugitive with a ten million bounty on her head.

Taunting Kui Xin was one of his few joys, and he observed that calling her ‘Miss’ would provoke a displeased reaction. Thus, he frequently used this to torment her… Until recently, this joy has decreased as Kui Xin grew more distant and cold, embodying the demeanor of a ruthless assassin, unlike when she was younger.

“She isn’t one to follow orders,” Eve commented.

“When I first saw her, I knew she wouldn’t be one to easily obey,” Night Cicada said. “She… doesn’t have many obsessions, and she’s very independent.”

Night Cicada thought about his own path, which he had chosen driven by obsessions, and without those, he wouldn’t have made such a choice.

However, life continued on. Eve decided to have Kui Xin infiltrate the Investigation Bureau.

Kui Xin agreed and carried out the mission.

But then something went wrong.

Players appeared in the world. After her infiltration, Kui Xin’s behavior became peculiar, sometimes appearing the same and sometimes different.

A horrifying suspicion arose in Night Cicada’s heart: she wasn’t the original person anymore.

She was no longer Kui Xin.

He interrogated her multiple times and spoke to provoke her, but she handled each encounter skillfully, seemingly unchanged from before.

Night Cicada should have gradually calmed down, but after the operation to besiege S-Rank Black Flame came to an end, Eve informed him with troubling news: “She is a player.”

Night Cicada fell silent for a moment and asked, “Do we not eliminate her then?”

“No. For now, she has persuaded me,” Eve said, “Let’s leave her for the time being.”

Night Cicada felt unsettled.

It’s unsettling to find an acquaintance has been replaced. This is a ticking bomb; yet, if Eve ordered it, he had no choice but to comply.

Night Cicada spent his days busy, moving bases, completing missions, occasionally arresting players for interrogation, and bouncing between different branches.

But then, news struck like a thunderbolt: Kui Xin had defected.

How could she escape successfully after removing the device from her steel cranium?!

“I said as much, she should have been eliminated long ago,” Night Cicada murmured, “She’s far too terrifying, so skilled at disguise.”

“This masking ability might have come from her father. He’s just as good an actor,” Night Cicada added in a puzzling tone.

“We will still succeed in cleansing her; the capture procedure is on,” Eve stated.

Given Night Cicada’s understanding of Eve, he knew she must be furious and felt deeply deceived.

“Proceed quickly,” Night Cicada advised, “We cannot leave her unchecked.”

Yet, things developed differently than expected.

Kui Xin fled to White Whale City, kidnapped Popov Clan members, promoted the group through media, opened positions, caused a citywide blackout, executed someone named ‘Reset,’ and abducted another ‘Reset’ artificial person…

“Damn.” Night Cicada couldn’t help his eyebrows twitching, thinking, “Doesn’t she ever sleep? Accomplishing all this in a few days? Madwoman!”

“You must withdraw, Night Cicada,” Eve said, “We do not understand her next move, but one certainty remains: she seeks you. Quickly evacuate White Whale City; you cannot stay there. Our operations and equipment also need quick relocation. She covets our devices.”

Thus, Mechanized Dawn initiated another hurried reorganization.

This time round, it was the branch relocating.

Branch personnel worked overtime, including Night Cicada, who packed and moved. In two days, most supplies had been evacuated, leaving only heavier items behind.

During the sixth batch of items being transported, Night Cicada yawned, resolving to rest after finishing. Those days were non-stop.

Unexpectedly, a live figure accompanied the cargo arriving at the unloading site. It was Kui Xin!

Even with her helmet, Night Cicada could sense the murderous intent in her stare. The air seemed to freeze, and he quickly turned to flee. His mind raced with fear and a startling realization—this woman truly needed no rest!

In combat with Kui Xin, the outcome was clear—she overwhelmed him effortlessly.

His injuries were severe; ribs shattered, internal bleeding, rendering him nearly unable to activate a spatial vortex.

She never held back… He would die.

Before his vision faded, he looked at her and wondered, “Was she truly replaced? Not replaced, then perhaps fused? Otherwise, why would her behavior, actions, and personality resemble hers…?”

Mechanized Dawn’s controlled subjects had indeed conveyed similar intelligence speculations, and forums echoed these sentiments.

Night Cicada coughed up blood, involuntarily uttering a familiar phrase, “Miss… You’re truly ruthless.”

Consistently cruel.

Unfortunately, shielded by the helmet, he couldn’t discern whether she exhibited a similar expression of disdain as before.

He knew he likely wouldn’t survive. But survival instinct prevailed, alongside unfinished business.

Eve had yet to fulfill her promised task of aiding him seek revenge.

“I can serve you…” he forced out with his last ounce of strength.

The only response was an icy, terse reply, “Liar.”

Consistently strong and decisive. She was a formidable fighter, undeterred by decisions once made, determined to kill without fail.

In that moment, Night Cicada finally understood something.

Ah, she hadn’t been exchanged. She was still ‘her’ but had become something more.

He chose his path, and she chose another.

His path led to its conclusion; hers continued onward.