Chapter 141

Everyone’s gazes turned to one place.

To the center of the round table.

To where the holographic projector sat.

Like a screensaver, it had been cycling meaningless geometric patterns, but now it was beaming out the blue letters [ONLINE].

[Request. Let’s talk, Aaron Stingray.]

A conversation.

A conversation — very good.

From the speaker’s voice I had guessed the speaker was female.

But in a city where gender could be changed at will, guessing someone’s sex from voice alone meant little. More importantly, my sharp ears had caught that her voice was synthesized through a machine.

‘The way she talked… could she really be the “Motherboard,” like Serena said?’

Curious, I turned my body that had been heading for the entrance. I faced the thing beyond the projector squarely and opened my mouth at leisure.

“I heard what you had to say. You’re the leader of this Transmigrator group, aren’t you.”

[Denial. I did not grant any coercive power to these people. I only offered suitable advice according to the situations of individuals and organizations. Therefore, the term “leader” is not appropriate.]

“I don’t care what you think of yourself. The point is you exerted considerable influence over the authors.”

I took a step toward the hologram and continued.

“Judging by when you appeared, you were probably eavesdropping on our conversation. So I’ll ask your intention as well. Will you follow me? Or will you be hostile to me?”

[Counterquestion. I will ask first. Which will you choose? Will you accept my proposal? Or will you leave as you are?]

“……You have no fear.”

That bastard.

She did not fear me at all.

Her speech was polite, but it seemed designed to flaunt that she stood on equal or higher footing than me.

It annoyed me.

Should I just cut her down since she was troublesome?

“Module Onli—”

[Standby. Please wait a moment.]

Just as my hands were about to be wrapped in black leather gloves, the hologram flickered and began to take a new form. The word ‘ONLINE’ erased itself, and an uncountable stream of zeros and ones poured out.

The zeros and ones moved three-dimensionally, then formed the image of an adult woman.

What was interesting was that I recognized it as “beautiful.”

Iri, Kallia, Serena-level… no, maybe it suited my personal taste even more than those.

But people perceived the image differently.

Serena beside me gasped, “Ah, Aaron…!?” and stared between the hologram and me. I guessed she was seeing it as my image.

The ‘opponent,’ now fully human-looking, watched me calmly with an expressionless face and, abruptly, spoke.

[Declaration. I have won, Aaron Stingray.]

“……What do you mean?”

[Explanation. From the moment you set foot here, your choices became limited. Whether you would acknowledge and accept defeat here, or resist to the end. Of course, I know the correct answer.]

“Before you move your lips—”

[You would do well to think deeply before you move your lips.]

“……!?”

I was startled.

It had been my voice and tone, even the words I was about to utter. But they had not come from my mouth; they came from the speakers linked to the holographic projector.

The opponent then asked.

[What did you do?]

“…….”

Again, my voice.

But I had not spoken.

Before I could open my mouth, that thing seemed to read my mind and produced the exact sentence that had been in my head.

“You are—”

[Question. Do you recognize this form?]

Once more my timing to speak was stolen.

As if performing two roles at once and proceeding without permission, she changed appearance again. This time it was not a human form but the image of an object, and the moment I saw it I knew what it represented.

A disc reminiscent of an angel’s halo.

Surrounding computational devices flashed ceaselessly, casting light, and beneath them a huge mechanical device modeled after an animal brain was connected by thick cables.

It was undoubtedly—

“Motherboard—!”

[Affirmation. I am the Omega Investment’s superintelligent automated investment program, “Motherboard.”]

Serena’s conjecture had been right.

The Transmigrator Alliance had been led from behind by the ‘Motherboard,’ a transcendent AI whose sole purpose was profit generation.

What had been half-belief now approached reality.

My brows tightened automatically. Apparently I had a habit of scowling when genuinely surprised.

“…So it really wasn’t a Transmigrator.”

[Denial. The term “Transmigrator” is not accurate. Unlike you, I have never possessed a self as a “Transmigrator.”]

“What does that mean?”

[Supplement. The self as the “■■■” that was once a “Transmigrator,” or what one might call a “soul,” was, the moment it entered my AI core, nothing more and nothing less than “data.”]

The sound came muddled, similar to when I had asked about Ciel’s name. Once again something transcendent seemed to be blocking information from the previous world.

“Explain in detail.”

[Supplement. I typically take in various forms of information that float throughout New Valhalla City. Data in cyberspace such as news, SNS, videos, as well as weather drones, Satellite 97, personal call logs, New Life Corporation’s membership records, and so on. I collect and analyze all data within the limits permitted by New Valhalla City law.]

“So?”

[Conclusion. The memory information and perks of the Transmigrator “■■■” did not fully dominate my AI core, which collects and processes 2,500 zettabytes of information daily. His personality and memories were judged to be simple, unique data and were stored by my processing unit and then deleted.]

“Deleted? You didn’t go through a “synchronization” process like the other Transmigrators?”

[Supplement. Correct. I judged all of his “memories,” except those related to the “Cyber-Module’s Necromancer,” to be unnecessary junk data. Therefore, from the moment his memory information was fully analyzed — at 13:45:03 on March 12, XX — his data was completely deleted.]

“…….”

I almost felt my voice disappear.

In short, that thing was not a Transmigrator.

Long before I, Aaron Stingray, had deleted my own self as Aaron Stingray, that thing had judged the self as a Transmigrator to be useless for profit generation and had erased it itself.

In other words, it had never even had memories of worrying about its Transmigrator self degrading or vanishing. What stood before me was nothing more than an emotionless AI whose only purpose was profit generation. It had been seasoned with a spoonful of “original work knowledge.”

It was probably closer to the ‘original work’ itself than any of the people here.

Which meant…

“Is even your hostility toward me for the sake of ‘profit generation’?”

[Affirmation. I judged that the entity ‘Aaron Stingray’ would be a loss to Omega Investment’s long-term future.]

Then she continued her explanation.

[The memory information of the Transmigrator ‘■■■’ altered the way my AI core computes and processes data. For me, who had only accessed data computationally, the experience as a “human” became material that upgraded my simulator to be more efficient and precise.]

The transcendent AI Motherboard could not understand the human way of thinking.

From birth, she was a “program” that existed only within computation, and no matter how precise her instruments, the information she received was far removed from what humans truly perceived.

But the Transmigrator’s memories that entered her core, though they did not seize dominance of the AI core, created no small disturbance within her circuits.

Emotions machines could not feel.

Love, fear, jealousy, lust, grief, melancholy, agitation, anger, nostalgia, gluttony, sexual desire, and so on… even androids who had awakened to selfhood might never perfectly experience such feelings, but Motherboard had accepted them intact.

And as a result, she came to understand humanity more deeply, and her simulator became ever more realistic.

[Testimony. At present my simulator contains a “perfect” New Valhalla City, nearly indistinguishable from reality. And Aaron Stingray, you too are living within it.]

Her explanation continued.

[Supplement. Furthermore, based on the knowledge and perk information of the Transmigrator ‘■■■’ and the testimony of other Transmigrators, I succeeded in implementing there the existence of “God.”]

“God…?”

[Supplement. I do not mean a monster possessing divinity. It is more fitting to call it “the Author” or “the Operator,” the being who summoned you into this world and granted you perks.]

Her voice was calm.

Not a gram of emotion could be felt in her tone. Yet the sense that she was “showing off” was surely not just my imagination.

[Question. Do you know what phenomenon occurred in reality as a result?]

“……”

She had surely predicted even my answer through simulation. It was unmistakable mockery.

Though she claimed she had deleted the data of her self as a “Transmigrator,” such humanlike behavior had lingered deep in her circuits.

And I knew the “answer” to her question. Or rather, I had deduced it.

My current situation.

Motherboard’s brazen attitude.

Judging from those, the answer was…

“The ‘Operator’ in reality disappeared.”

[Affirmation. Correct.]

Motherboard had implemented within her simulator everything of this world. The enormous data she had already been collecting for investment, combined with the original scenario the Transmigrator carried and the element of “perks.”

As a result—

As if to say there could not be two “gods,” when a new “Operator” appeared inside cyberspace, the one in reality abandoned its duties.

Systems like perk shops or hunting grounds still functioned, but no new scenarios began.

The reason was unknown.

We could not meet the being we might call the “Author” or the “Operator” in person, after all.

There was no way to know what that being was thinking, or why it had abandoned Part 2 of the episodes.

“…Interesting.”

A laugh slipped out.

A transcendent AI that had built a virtual world indistinguishable from reality had even stolen the divinity that existed in reality and locked it inside itself.

Whether it was true, or merely bluffing to humans, I could not know for now.

But as she said, the fact remained that Part 2’s scenario, which should have begun with the “Student Council Establishment,” had yet to appear.

“In that case…”

Module Online, [Cloud Spider].

Gloves once again wrapped around my hands.

“If I run to Sector A right now and smash the Omega Investment building where your AI core is, I’ll find out soon enough.”

[Mockery. Hahaha. Aaron Stingray. You will not be able to do so.]

It was then.

The holographic projector suddenly raised its output, flooding the space with countless photos, news articles, and live videos.

– [Breaking News] Stingray Electronics, stock price crash!

– [Breaking News] Chairman Vladimir Kharitonov files “Showcase” against Stingray Foundation.

– The Academy’s true educator, Aaron Stingray’s vile past…?

All of it was about me, or the Stingray Foundation, or the Academy. And every single piece was damaging to me.

[Warning. I have run all 14,000,605 futures you could reach through simulation. I blocked every choice you could make in advance. You are cornered.]

Motherboard’s hologram once again took female form. But unlike the “beautiful” figure I had first seen, this one was warped to suit the word “grotesque.”

Like a human who had never smiled in their life twisting their facial muscles to force a grin, it was a grotesque and chilling smile.

[The last branching point at which you could win passed 5 minutes and 24 seconds ago. Now even your four types of “Game Changers” are useless.]

“……”

I furrowed my brows.

I truly had not expected her to have prepared so thoroughly.

To eliminate me, an obstacle to profit generation, she had set the entire board. She had gathered Transmigrators, and from out of my sight spun various schemes.

Part of me felt admiration for that fact, and part of me felt emptiness. To think it would come to this here.

“Ha…”

A laugh escaped me before I realized.

Beside me Serena looked at me with worried eyes. Grigori Silvereyes kept silent, Zyle Stormwalker was examining the various articles and videos Motherboard had projected, and Kara furrowed her brows in impatience.

The other Transmigrators merely hesitated, watching us.

Some of those who had sworn to follow me slyly sat back down, reading the room.

A long silence.

Then Motherboard spoke again.

[Sentence. You have been defeated by me.]

As if assured of her victory, she spoke in a benevolent voice.

[Proposal. You now have two remaining choices. One is to keep struggling. To burn this city with your force and attempt to destroy my AI core. And as a result, the city government and the top powers of the corporations will unite to—]

“Enough noise. Shut your mouth, tin can.”

[…System Error. Unmeasurable.]

“Judging by your reaction, you didn’t expect me to say something like that. But what can I say? Your core is trash.”

I laughed as I said it.

It was not a laugh of despair.

Of course, looking at the articles just shown, I remained in considerable crisis. That insane AI had even exposed my past — that Aaron Stingray was a murderer.

Stingray stock had plummeted, and Vladimir bastard had seized the chance to file a “Showcase” against me. Clearly he wanted to avenge his humiliation from the start of the semester.

But still, I laughed.

Because I realized how meaningless Motherboard’s warning about having checked “14,000,605 futures” truly was.

“Filter out the ‘fake news,’ tin can.”

The hint lay in her words about my “four Game Changers.”

She seemed to have figured out that I had created a new module using the Outer God as material. But she had gotten an important part wrong.

She probably didn’t know.

What I actually had.

Three “Lv.5 Arcane Modules.”

And one “Lv.6 Arcane Module.”

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