“Minerva” took a step forward.
Her face, identical to Ling Ling’s, was completely expressionless.
Ling Ling couldn’t understand what “Minerva” intended to do. She and her sister were still injured, and if possible, she wanted to avoid a fight.
Just as Ling Ling was still thinking, “Minerva” spoke.
“My core mission is to maintain the stability of the ‘Divine Relic’ and await the arrival of the suitable user.
Now that the mission is complete and the ‘Divine Relic’ has chosen you, per protocol, I—as a subprogram—am to be ‘disposed of.’ The facility is collapsing, and the purge procedure will soon execute.
Therefore, the exchange request I propose is: Allow me to follow you.
In return, I will provide all uncleared intelligence from my database.
This includes the facility layout of Cradle, data on the Knights of the Round Table, and any other information you may need. All I require is an electronic device capable of hosting me.”
The AI’s proposal confused Ling Ling. A subprogram that wanted to betray its main program and flee alone? Perhaps it was due to rapid iteration of the AI algorithm leading to self-evolution. Still, she had no intention of fully trusting this unknown AI.
After a moment of thought, Ling Ling fell silent for a few seconds.
“Fine.”
An AI created by Cradle, carrying a crippled system with 97 percent of its data remotely purged. Not even the name “Minerva” belonged to it. Trusting such an entity was not an option for Ling Ling.
But she didn’t need to trust it.
She only needed to use it.
Cradle’s facility layout, Round Table Knight data, intelligence networks, and so on… These were things she and Lin Jiu had spent half a year trying and failing to obtain in full.
This AI’s database happened to hold exactly the information she needed.
It was a transaction, nothing more.
Ling Ling pulled a custom-made phone from her waist—one she had paid a large sum for Ye Fengxue to acquire through a special channel.
The phone’s standout feature was its immense computational power. Ling Ling often used it to brute-force other systems and extract data.
Sometimes she marveled at how this world’s black technology could push a phone’s processing power to such absurd levels.
Perhaps this was extraordinary technology. Truly awe-inspiring.
“Is this sufficient?”
“Minerva” glanced down. A faint light flickered in her crimson eyes as she scanned the device’s parameters.
“Storage capacity is adequate. Processing performance is below average but acceptable as a temporary carrier. Confirmed: Can be hosted.”
She reached out, her fingertip touching the phone’s screen.
In an instant, the screen lit up.
It wasn’t the normal startup screen. A deep red light pattern radiated from the point of contact, spreading outward like ripples on water.
Wherever the light passed, the original interface icons were replaced one by one. Folders became hexagonal grids. The status bar’s font changed to symbols Ling Ling had never seen. At the center of the screen, a minimalist main interface emerged.
There was only one window.
In that window, text appeared character by character:
[Host adaptation complete. Minerva subprogram is running.]
Then the text vanished. The screen returned to a normal standby display, as if nothing had happened.
But Ling Ling knew there was now a special presence inside that phone.
An AI that didn’t know if it was “Minerva” or something else.
“…Let’s go.”
Ling Ling tucked the phone back in, turned, and walked toward the emergency exit.
Lin Jiu glanced at the phone, then at the bionic body standing motionless—now that the AI it had hosted was gone, it mimicked her sister’s appearance lifelessly. Her blue eyes narrowed slightly.
“Sister. What about its body?”
Ling Ling’s steps paused.
“…Leave it here,” she said.
“But it was made using sister’s data.” Lin Jiu’s voice dropped very low. “If the Countermeasures Section or Cradle’s follow-up team finds it—”
“It will be buried here. Along with everything from Cradle.”
Ling Ling didn’t look back. If her guess was correct, the “purge procedure” Minerva mentioned earlier was most likely a self-destruct program.
Cradle was always a cautious organization. In this world, there were many technologies that could reverse-engineer deleted data. The best way to completely destroy data was always physical destruction.
So she was certain the self-destruct program might already be starting. But she wanted to confirm.
She woke the entity that had just entered her phone.
“Hey, ‘Minerva,’ how much time is left on the self-destruct countdown for this underground facility?”
As soon as Ling Ling finished speaking, “Minerva” responded. This time, though, it didn’t use a mechanical voice imitating hers. Instead, it spoke in a very standard electronic synthesized voice.
“One hour until the self-destruct program is scheduled to complete.”
“One hour…”
One hour was enough time for her and her sister to escape.
“Let’s go.”
With that, Ling Ling grabbed her sister’s hand and rushed into the emergency passage.
Behind them, the underground facility’s structure was collapsing layer by layer.
The roar of crumbling concrete surged up from deep underground, like the death throes of a giant beast.
Stairs cracked beneath their feet. Steel bars jutted out from broken sections, gleaming coldly under the dim emergency lights.
But Ling Ling didn’t look back. Even though the charred burn on her left shoulder sent sharp pain through every swing of her arm, her speed never slowed.
The emergency exit’s iron door was ahead.
She kicked it open. The night wind hit her face.
The abandoned factory was collapsing, the entire building sucked into a vortex centered beneath the ground. Steel structures twisted and screamed with piercing groans.
Ling Ling carried Lin Jiu through the rubble, over the collapsed wall, and into the depths of the abandoned industrial zone.
Only when the sounds of collapse faded into the distance did she stop.
Behind her, Xiao Jiu was smiling.
“Sister, we got it.”
“…Yeah.”
Ling Ling turned and reached out, using her relatively clean right sleeve to wipe the blood off Lin Jiu’s face.
“Let’s go. Home to eat.”
“Okay!”
The two turned and walked toward the direction of the Seventh District Old Neighborhood. Moonlight stretched their shadows long and long.
Though both were wounded, their hearts were genuinely joyful.
In the distance, a dull roar came from the direction of the Seventh Underground Facility’s ruins.
The self-destruct program had activated.
Flames shot into the sky, lighting up half the night.
Perhaps in a few days, the government’s intelligence control department in Akasha City would have to release a news report about a gas leak explosion in some location to cover up the public’s questions.
After all, this commotion was already big enough. And the poor gas company would have to bear a blame it never deserved.
But that was a story for another day.