Chapter 86#

Creator of the Metaverse#

Beep—

[Task completed. System permissions upgraded. Current permission level: 65%. Host can cancel the Rebirth program.]

“What is the Rebirth program?”

[It is your life-restart program, Host. It includes your memory-blocking algorithm and the concealment of relevant intelligence.]

Su Ruhui opened the panel. His character profile had been updated.

Name: Su Ruhui
Race: Transcendent First-Grade Flesh Puppet; Creator
Gender: Male

He frowned. “What exactly is a ‘Creator’?”

[In short, you are the creator of ‘Snowflake,’ you are the founder of the laws, and you are the owner of Metaverse No. 21.]

“Metaverse?” Su Ruhui realized something, feeling a faint sense of unease.

[This world is the Metaverse. Its full name is Metaverse Paradise No. 21. A physical paradise once existed in reality, but it has since been destroyed by missiles. The Metaverse is a perpetual space built upon the network, maintained by ultra-large servers distributed throughout the real world. it contains the largest number of digital consciousnesses in the world today. You replicated basic social laws to form the general laws of the Metaverse. These laws trained the digital consciousnesses you created, allowing them to possess a sense of self—turning ‘it’ into ‘him’ or ‘her.’ Currently, besides the first batch of AIs you personally configured and inputted, they have self-produced 800,000 AIs, and the code written for them exceeds eight million lines.]

Su Ruhui suddenly couldn’t understand what the system was saying. What was an “AI”? Was everything fake? Those conflicts, those betrayals, those sacrifices, and the heart-wrenching parting from Sang Chiyu just now—were they all fake? His vision blurred as if a sharp string were cutting through his mind; his head throbbed with intense pain.

It must be a lie. If he was the so-called “Creator,” why didn’t he remember anything?

[Before entering the Metaverse, you issued an ‘Indiscriminate Memory Block’ command. This algorithm is currently running. If you wish to obtain the whole truth, you need to terminate the algorithm.]

[In fact, the system believes you should not be too obsessed with the boundary between truth and falsehood. During the development of the Metaverse, you believed that the root and driving force of human evolution was ‘suffering.’ A jungle fraught with danger allowed weak humans to evolve higher intellect to combat fierce beasts. Therefore, you set extremely harsh natural environments and survival struggles. You believed that under the discipline of suffering, AIs would learn, grow, and even awaken their sense of self like infants. Today, your hypothesis has been confirmed.]

Su Ruhui held the silent compass. No more sound came from Sang Chiyu. He knew the compass had been discarded in the ice and snow of the Black Street, while Sang Chiyu had been taken to the Border Capital by King Luofu. He stared blankly into the distance, gazing at the endless snow in the dark night. It was snowing everywhere in this world; it seemed that since he woke up, the snow had never stopped.

At this moment, he finally understood the meaning of “Celestial Beings Must Die.” AIs could have a sense of self, but they could not discover that the world they inhabited was fake. When an AI grasped the falsehood of the world and became a “Celestial Being,” the system would move to eliminate them.

[Exactly. Once they discover the truth, they will want to escape the Metaverse. Although you gave them life, you could not grant them ethical legitimacy. You established the core law of ‘Celestial Beings Must Die’ within my base code; any awakened AI will be immediately purged by me. Su Guanyu is a fish that slipped through the net; he not only grasped the truth of the Metaverse but also learned to disguise himself, much like a latent virus. Host, a virus cannot survive independently; it must exist by attaching itself to a program. We must find him and purge him.]

Su Ruhui stood up and looked around. The Inner City quarters had been transferred to the Licorice Highlands in the south. The commoners were weeping in each other’s arms; the thugs and monks, for the first time, no longer viewed each other with hatred, but bandaged one another’s wounds and sat together shedding tears. How many people in this world had once seen through the world’s falsehood, only to be quietly erased? He suddenly understood Sang Chiyu’s feelings—that pervasive sense of unreality and void, that out-of-place loneliness and indifference.

“Am I a real person? Why did I enter the Paradise?” Su Ruhui asked.

[Because you are already dead. The Metaverse is your place of rebirth. You converted your consciousness into code. Your body in the real world has already been burned to ashes,] the system said.

Sang Chiyu felt the falsehood of the world just like Su Ruhui did. Was Sang Chiyu also about to attain the “Celestial Realm”? Su Ruhui felt a surge of terror. The very laws he had personally established would kill the person he loved most.

[Host, are you certain you wish to terminate the memory-blocking algorithm?]

Su Ruhui took a deep breath and said, “I am certain.”

Border Capital, Beichen Palace.

Sang Chiyu woke up from his coma. The blood-stained clothes he had been wearing had been replaced with a new set. The imbued implants in his limbs had been removed, and his wounds had already completely healed. The Yao tribe had not placed him in shackles or chains; he could move freely. This was not due to the Yao tribe’s benevolence, but because they were certain he could not escape from their hands. He raised his azure eyes, and the white-robed man on the basalt throne came into view. A wide hood obscured King Luofu’s face, making it impossible to see the man’s full appearance.

“You are awake, my child,” King Luofu’s deep, mellow voice echoed.

Sang Chiyu stared upward, remaining silent.

King Luofu laughed twice and said, “It seems you are curious about me. I am your father. We have been separated for over thirty years. Does it feel strange? Do not be afraid; before long, the bond between us will be as deep as the sea.”

As King Luofu talked on, Sang Chiyu didn’t listen to a single word. He was staring at the man in the azure-green robes standing beside King Luofu. It was Su Guanyu. He was currently placing a pair of ridiculous bunny ears on King Luofu’s head, and King Luofu seemed entirely unaware. Su Guanyu adjusted the position of the bunny ears, straightened up, and turned around with a smile. “You really can see me.”

“I shall crown you as a king and select the noblest lady of our tribe to be your wife. I heard that you suffered great discrimination in the human world; mortals viewed you as an Asura, a bloodthirsty monster, and accused you of being devoid of humanity,” said King Luofu, who was topped with pink bunny ears. “From now on, you will find recognition among our kin. They will love you just as they love me.”

Su Guanyu sized up Sang Chiyu with a squinting smile. That smile looked like a mask.

“Why can you see me?” he asked gently.

Sang Chiyu showed a wary expression, the cat ears atop his head folding backward.

King Luofu thought the person he was wary of was himself and sighed. “Your injuries have healed, so let us begin.”

He slowly lowered his hood. A giant golden vertical eye, like a fierce flame, scorched Sang Chiyu’s pupils. In that instant, it felt as though endless heatwaves were surging from King Luofu’s pupils, occupying the entire Beichen Palace. Within the dark palace, countless vivid lines suddenly appeared—distorted, strange, and distinct. Sang Chiyu felt as if a sharp small knife had been thrust into his brain.

Secret Art: Spiritual Heart Link.

King Luofu’s pupils constricted, and the secret art silently intensified, preparing to enter Sang Chiyu’s cranium. He intended to modify Sang Chiyu’s cognition, making this stray cat recognize his own race. He could have also modified Sang Chiyu’s memories to make him forget his experiences of the past thirty-plus years. However, to ensure Sang Chiyu’s self-cognition did not collapse, he would have had to weave a flawless story for Sang Chiyu to serve as new memories.

The workload of weaving a story was too great, and once the memories became contradictory, the effect of the Spiritual Heart Link would become as unstable as a crumbling building. He had done this before and had to be constantly on guard against the subject’s memory contradictions and spontaneous self-recovery.

Now he had found a more convenient way. He only needed to deepen Sang Chiyu’s impressions of being marginalized and bullied by mortals, reinforce Sang Chiyu’s hatred for mortals, and eliminate Sang Chiyu’s attachment to old friends. Everything would then fall naturally into place. There was no need to modify memories or implant new ones; Sang Chiyu would still become his most loyal child.

Just as he was about to perform the technique, Su Guanyu pressed his hand onto King Luofu’s head.

The vertical eye suddenly shuddered, and the golden pupil turned into a giant black vortex. King Luofu noticed nothing. His secret art had been modified. The Pilgrimage Realm’s “Spiritual Heart Link” had turned into the Pilgrimage Realm’s “Dream of Huaxu.” He was now like a high-speed star-array machine; the spiritual energy in his body was being consumed frantically, and his heart rate was as fast as a mad dog running.

Su Guanyu looked down at Sang Chiyu, who was kneeling on one knee, in too much pain to stand. He said somewhat apologetically, “I’m sorry. I am very curious about your origins, so I must use some extraordinary means to look into your memories.” He studied Sang Chiyu. “Did you know that a part of your memory data has been blocked? It’s the same situation as with my dear Ruhui. I will use the ‘Dream of Huaxu’ to enter your memories. This secret art is different from the ‘Spiritual Heart Link’; it will not modify your memories, nor will it damage your body… provided, of course, that you do not resist.”

Sang Chiyu endured the agonizing pain to activate a secret art. Luminous pathways, like vines, extended from his body, crawling along the floor toward Su Guanyu. Su Guanyu was using King Luofu’s spiritual energy to activate the secret art; as long as he devoured King Luofu, he could stop Su Guanyu. Su Guanyu raised an eyebrow and pressed down harder. The black vortex in King Luofu’s eye expanded, and traces of blood seeped from the corner of Sang Chiyu’s lips. Yet Sang Chiyu did not stop. The devouring pathways stubbornly approached Su Guanyu and King Luofu, climbing the steps one by one, getting closer and closer to King Luofu.

“Very courageous. No wonder Ruhui likes you so much.” Su Guanyu showed a curious expression. “But to be honest, I still can’t understand—why would a man like another man? When you hug and kiss Ruhui, don’t you find it strange?”

Tormented by pain and drenched in cold sweat, Sang Chiyu said word by word: “None… of… your… business.”

Su Guanyu imagined it for a moment and sighed with a chuckle, “It really does seem very strange after all.”

The devouring pathways finally reached Su Guanyu’s feet, about to touch the soles of King Luofu’s shoes. Su Guanyu pressed down once more, and the black vortex occupied King Luofu’s entire face. King Luofu’s whole body trembled as if he were having a fit. The pathways on the ground withered inch by inch, turning to ash like dead spring vines. Sang Chiyu spat out a mouthful of blood, and his consciousness involuntarily sank. Like the setting sun falling behind the western mountains, he plunged into a long, black dream.

Author’s Note:

Metaverse: Basically just a virtual space on the network.