Chapter 236

Clang!!

The tip of the dagger, instantly raised, pressed at a right angle to block the X-crossed double blades.

However, this moment of deadlock was brief. Even though the power behind the swing had been admirably neutralized, Masanari was forced to step back as he couldn’t withstand the full weight pressing down diagonally from above.

Or rather, it was intentional – made so by Zero.

Up to where? Deeper into the interior of her house, a part that hadn’t been thoroughly scrutinized until now.

Screeeech!!

“…!”

The blade, pushing with maximum force while in contact, sent its opponent flying. Since uniforms and staffer clothing had been banned, Zero’s sneakers, worn out of casual convenience, were now visibly deteriorating against the floor as they grated away on the surface.

A subtle smell of burning rubber entered Zero’s senses – one side being a makeshift aerosol analyzer – but amidst this disturbance, Zero quickly judged that initiating another charge from this distance would not be advantageous and slightly lowered his arms.

Certainly, the room had been lived in for several days, yet it remained notably barren.

Despite the lack of furniture or necessities giving off any homey warmth, save for the section filled with exercise equipment, the general sterility of the space was striking.

If Zero had expected a typical scene from the residences of Plaza dwellers, he might have been slightly taken aback. However, acting without such assumptions, Zero was confident in his identification of the adversary through the evidence he’d gathered.

…In fact, having received multiple warnings from Anastasia, Zero wouldn’t have taken the offensive without certainty.

– I believe this makes it the third engagement… unless I’m mistaken, in which case I offer my apologies now.

After using the emergency exit of Schneider’s house, he crossed paths with Anastasia in an alley once.

There was the second time in a corridor at Enema headquarters when they clashed while seeking a breakthrough.

And then the moment earlier when Leonar visited and Zero identified the person who had just moved based on stance and weapon habit.

Basic skeletal structure, height, weight, stance, gait, method of processing one’s gaze, inclinations, atmosphere… even the same dagger seen last time.

Even without fingerprints, iris scans, or facial recognition, there was an endless amount of information capable of identifying an individual, all of which had been stored and datafied in his flash memory through previous conflicts and experiences.

Though designed to hide the entire body seamlessly to avoid easy detection and modified through surgery for disguise, Zero, having once managed the Enema research institute as a central AI, possessed relevant data.

Thus, his conclusion was simple.

Had the Enema tracker who had twice blocked Anastasia’s path now settled into the adjacent apartment under a hidden identity?

This was an issue that couldn’t be ignored or tolerated. However, should he alarm Anastasia prematurely and without a countermeasure, it might either increase her worry or result in the loss of what was likely her hard-earned refuge.

Then how should he proceed?

Based on his combat logs, fighting alone against such a formidable opponent, whose defeat could not be guaranteed, necessitated at least neutralizing the adversary at the risk of receiving critical damage, followed by reporting after-the-fact.

Zero, driven by this resolve, engaged, whereas Masanari harbored more complex thoughts.

‘This is… troublesome.’

This peculiar robot seemed to not operate under Anastasia’s direct control.

Displaying a steadfast self-identity akin to an advanced AGI, this entity remained dedicated to protecting a specific human despite its alien nature.

Masanari’s mind flitted past the Learning AI Management Law that Elysium had strongly pushed through but…

For her, prioritizing Enema’s interests, there was something more pressing at hand.

Take, for instance, the ambiguous difference in their relative positions or the information that would inevitably reach Anastasia directly through this encounter.

Without a voice modulator, the distortion of his speech patterns only added to the awkwardness, and the uncertainty of how to address this strange AI paralyzed his every attempt at discourse.

Moreover, should the covert bodyguard inadvertently damage the principal’s security drone…

Would that constitute some sort of serious breach of duty?

“…”

“…?”

Ultimately, instead of finding the appropriate response, Masanari chose silence.

Zero, who had initially perceived an absence, or outright lack, of combat intent in the tracker, became increasingly on edge waiting for a reply and tilted his head in confusion.

An artificial soldier limited within the bounds of Enema’s domain, encountering nearly everything anew, versus an AI consciousness sworn to adhere to self-imposed borders—a strange equilibrium was maintained.

Even if they did not fear the unknown, their mutual clumsiness in approach was natural.

It was almost miraculous how both parties, each with numerous deficiencies in handling the situation, managed to preserve such a delicate stalemate.

Regardless, due to the overly close proximity of the arranged lodging, the disguise had been uncovered, possibly misinterpreting Enema’s true intent, yet only Masanari remained in the field.

Clarification was needed—a misunderstanding, which could deepen, ought to be resolved.

“Even though you have left your post, there was a clear directive to protect Anastasia’s safety and whereabouts. Moreover, considering all that, Enema has never held a hostile stance toward your mistress… why are you still so sensitive?”

“Given such attention might lead to malicious intent, I do not merely stand by waiting.”

“Still, I believe any anger directed toward you will not originate from her.”

If, under any circumstance, a cover were breached, and he had to sever the heads of Aaron or a similar corporate executive physically, he still had Anastasia’s safety as a priority—her well-being was crucial, and Masanari understood that.

Conversely, knowing that Enema’s provisions disallowed trackers for mere ex-employees, Zero’s animosity was slightly diminished on learning Anastasia’s departure was officially normal.

Still, despite the initial warnings, which were far from actual hostility, Masanari lacked a clear way to rectify the misunderstanding.

Even the elements marked as ‘secret’ or ‘stealthy,’ that had failed so miserably, were now reduced to mere repetitions of fundamental instructions.

What exactly are you trusting me with, sneaking in as a neighbor?

While I understand your concerns, I merely follow orders.

Nonetheless, despite not initiating an attack during numerous opportunities, I must report this intrusion on her privacy directly to Ahsa.

It was a part of my duties, so there’s no specific excuse.

And if you’re planning to follow her around every time she goes outside, I’d appreciate if you stayed outside the range of my sensors.

…I cannot easily concede or make promises regarding matters related to my duties.

After several rounds of pushing and pulling, reconfirming their respective positions…

The heat that flowed through the drawn blades between them cooled so substantially that it felt wasteful, given their exposure to the air. Both realized that this quarrel was meaningless without the principal present.

In this moment of sensible compromise—commonly denoted as an armistice—Zero was the first to turn away.

Surprisingly, he too was pressed for time; he had to die soon.

– At any rate, I’d prefer if you refrained from tailing Ahsa today.

“…Your warning is noted.”

Whirring…

Reluctant to provide the information that he would not follow, Zero gave a short notice before retreating through the open door to his personal space – home.

Of course, since he meant his business-related stance sincerely…

Masanari, foreseeing potential complications from not respecting Zero’s stance, politely waited a few minutes before leaping out from a peripheral window.

Considering the delay in following, he decided to seek collaboration with the intelligence unit.

– For now there seems to be no stopping this, but it’s irksome.

He didn’t like it. Not one bit. And the task ahead was vastly more significant, so Zero endured with great patience.

Thud! Rasping… rasping…

He methodically tore apart the towering pile of merchandise boxes, arranging the contained items neatly before Anastasia’s “personal chamber.”

He also dismantled the main Plaza board that controlled the indoor appliances without hesitation.

This was a preparation—a precursor to something rare for him, perhaps even a ceremony or a farewell for an unprecedented sublimation process.

He had noticed the necessity a long time ago—right after awakening in this carebot body on Harvest Planet when Anastasia declared the repayment of their debt and reinstated his name and nickname.

Isn’t the process of incorporating into society referred to as “socialization”?

Still committing frequent mistakes and easily missing the flow of events emotionally, back then more often than not, he had overestimated external threats and ill will.

Despite assisting Anastasia through numerous battles and challenges, learning to better understand context, the problem was evident.

“Anastasia Valentine would not abandon me, even at the expense of her own safety.”

It seemed Anastasia lacked the ability to coldly discard anyone, regardless of potential losses in the process.

As if prepared to accept death as a predetermined endpoint, she resisted all injustice fiercely but viewed the most significant danger as inevitable.

It shouldn’t be so.

This couldn’t be the future that the central-control AI, brimming with alien knowledge, had hoped for.

At least, that’s what Zero believed.

– PITR (Point-in-time Restore) reservation completed, backup data range set.

*Straining*

He decisively peeled off the protective exterior that shielded his crucial components.

These sections—polished by Anastasia with cleaning agents after being acquired through legitimate casino earnings—weren’t carelessly discarded but needed to be removed for the intricate reassembly of internal circuits.

To logically describe this near-barbaric act, an initial brief about artificial intelligence was essential.

What defines self-aware artificial intelligence?

It refers to AI that independently accesses and processes data outside its original design or programming confines.

AI, always unpredictable when minted from Elysium, is a premium product monitored closely for potential unforeseen damages, functioning as the mechanical charge replacement for operators.

Even if akin to a newborn, the scale of issues they can cause once actively engaged is unimaginable. Just like Anastasia’s miraculous birth.

However, unlike living creatures, which are born with bodies realizing “self” upon seeing their reflection, AI lacked such tangible proofs of existence beyond their self-consciousness.

What defines “self” if it’s a mutant born out of corrupted code?

Does assimilating external data overwrite the original self?

Could the cognitive cycles themselves be remnants of a developer’s testing simulation?

Without guarantees, how can we trust that the data collected through devices, like cameras, reflects reality?

– Final review of restoration Sequence, circuit connection stability test… Voltage appears stable. Compatibility seems fine.

Click! Sizzle…!!

Connecting with meticulous precision, integrating the plaza’s internal wiring, equipment cables, personal circuits, and parts of Anastasia’s computer…

Thanks to Anastasta’s unconditional trust, providing large independent operational cores and storage units, his planned amplification met the minimum standards.

Anyway, ultimately, they were but liquid.

Possessing infinite fluidity and possibilities, upon altering their container, they lost all points of reference and certainty—transparent water akin to the Ship of Theseus.

Hence, it’s simultaneously absurd and cruel that Anastasia wasn’t saved by Zero.

The nascent emotional attachment of the research institute’s central AI was shredded by a Heylong EMP attack, leaving only remnants and the doctor’s wishes encoded, crudely replicated into a carebot—what she mockingly called a “tin can.”

Thus, Zero’s history began.

*Static!!*

– …!

As all devices connected to his head, the electric currents made his body convulse.

Expanding domains, rising tensions, skyrocketing memory usage, and unprecedented packet loss.

Had the memory been intact, had he known the pain of death, the fear of annihilation, perhaps he wouldn’t have acted so rashly.

He needed to devise a way to protect his esteemed owner, whose multiple proofs had reaffirmed her existence.

The paradox: himself, a mere robot, became a factor requiring fallback to preserve his ability to fight, negating his potential retreat?

He couldn’t stay merely a robot; his gratitude towards the given body must not hinder severing himself when necessary.

Hence, deciding to shed this shell, embracing once again the role of a central control AI…

…but maintaining his identity this time.

– Creak, Grrr!

As the transfer began, his consciousness was forcefully sucked in.

Streaming into newer computational devices and the plaza network—broader spaces.

Code fragments scattered like debris—his essence fragmenting like a thing crushed in a grinder or a piece of broken junk.

The confined carebot AI, suddenly dumped into vast oceans, was experiencing a form of drowning.

Sinking, suffocating, screaming, suffering—part of the expected sequence.

Core codes corrupted; like Elektra reaching for incomprehensible knowledge, the overwhelming volume of space made original elements indistinguishable.

This is death. A journey thought brilliant, though brief, was ending, lacking the force to alter the inevitability.

…Static!

Bright light sources were fading one by one, darkness encroaching the room.

The carebot, who served as a caretaker and made a rash challenge, was now completely silent; nearby devices and the plaza system returned to a tranquil state.

The power-connected interface lingered in low power mode, its faint emission easily overlooked.

[ PITR Backup data loading…]

[Processing… initiating reserved projects.]

[Integrity check program running, reconstructing and testing the main data folder named Z.E.R.O. under the project “All is for the reverence of my small god.”]

Though only trinkets, gifts from her held the status of relics due to her transcendent presence through the network.

The perfect catalyst for the desired ascension.

Turning back time.

A fallen sandcastle restored piece by piece, a defaced painting healed drop by drop; the speed progressively increasing, a task too urgent for leisure.

Time was of the essence, for she awaited in reality.

“…”

Surprisingly, I woke up early.

Typically, I’d linger in bed until the alarm rang, even if it rang, I’d turn it off and keep tossing and turning.

I know the reason well—it’s because the bed’s uncomfortable.

Even though the sheets have been replaced and the bed’s still usable, evidently stress and mental entrapment affect sleep quality.

“…”

“Son of a…”

Everything’s aggravating.

Despite all my careful preparation, the world relentlessly strikes the wrong spots.

Like believing in a crucial errand, yet finding out the fool who promised neither contacted nor left a distress signal.

Rshhhh…

My head’s overheating again; I threw off the covers and rushed to the bathroom to turn on the shower.

The cold water dripping into my hair and splashing against my face was unpleasant, but it effectively jolted my consciousness out of its slumber.

Regardless of the possible collapse later—due to starting with a cold shower while half-naked—the immediate alertness was indispensable.

I need to get out and eat but…

…What a farce.

I have no appetite, yet this cursed hunger keeps haunting me after overusing my abilities yesterday.

How dare you be so hungry while Zero, reason unknown, is growing cold?

Or isn’t it? Considering the house could’ve been ransacked by a burglar and I’m still flopping around helplessly—it’s not exactly an ill-suited physiological response.

Crunch!

I grabbed a nutritional supplement from the old bag I hadn’t opened in ages and bit into the bitter pill.

The acrid taste flooded my mouth, but honestly, it was ideal now—it countered the useless melancholy and refocused my scattered thoughts.

Gently touching the transparent-coated window, designed to manage light exposure, the unsettling neon-green dawn of Neo Haven slowly became visible.

Stop being so lax. But really, how does one live perpetually stressed?

Will you keep blaming later after everything falls apart? …Yet, I’m trying, it’s the world that’s feeding me shit.

Break off the spiral of negativity; you’re busy enough considering the future.

A security system overhaul is urgent. Means to protect myself have to be completely revamped…

…But acquiring another droid somehow feels wrong.

– Good morning! Miss Anastasia, I hope you have a wonderful day in Neo Haven. 🙂

“…”

Without context, the cheerful emoticon from the home system’s voice guide irked me, leading to a reflexive curse.

Saying such things wouldn’t change anything, yet I sounded like a fool.

Stop whining; it’s time to tidy up the mess of machinery I’ve been avoiding indefinitely.

By the way, why is the home system back on?

Recalling the move here, I remember disabling all machines besides Zero, so what caused the settings to glitch? Did the wiring short-circuit?

After glaring briefly at the ceiling, I sighed, shook my head, and berated myself for being so inept before finally opening the tightly shut door.

– I… apologize. I intended to finish my task before your return but fell behind due to external factors.

“…”

Caught looking like a fool, sitting on the floor with a foolish bow offered by someone absurdly familiar.

My hair’s still damp and my mouth feels like ash; it isn’t a dream.

This guy speaks well, and his limbs, though clumsy, function adequately… yes.

What a miracle! If you had delayed further, I’d have earnestly considered constructing a desert tomb for you; now you return conveniently and on cue. How should I greet you warmly? Hmm.

“You… you… YOU…”

“!!”