bookbashuk Page 8
Page 8
"I know a friend who can provide a one-stop service for the deceased, so there's no need to worry."
"Excuse my bluntness, but perhaps it's because I've been hanging out with you for too long, but a certain part of the grammar in your last sentence struck me as dangerous—was the order of the words 'one-stop service' and 'passed away' reversed?"
“You’re mistaken, Mr. Hearn.”
"Is that so? That makes sense. Why should I worry about that over-trained muscle mass? Even if we encounter a shark while diving, that muscle baboon can crush the invading beast to death with its pectoral muscles."
"Mr. Hern, who was worried about Mr. Makishima's safety on behalf of Ms. Saori, is a kind person."
"Thank you, I'm so sorry. Although his sister would be very sad if that guy really got blown away by the typhoon."
"The current login location is Inner Minato Ward, Tokyo, while the original IP is on Rarotonga Island. Where do we go next, Mr. Hearn?"
"Chiyoda Ward, Budokan, go meet up with Ms. Touma. She's having a charity concert there today. My private inbox has been flooded with her spam for the past week."
"what happened?"
"Oh, that poor woman, she received an e-invitation a week before Christmas from her high school sweetheart and best friend, who were getting married on Christmas Day."
"That's really unfortunate."
"Yes, let's bring her along after we meet up. Hopefully, she won't do anything foolish. It's really raining in Tokyo right now."
"Understood. The itinerary is confirmed. We will meet with Ms. Touma and then head to [TheRealFolkBlues]. Also, the real-time log shows that [The White House] has already opened, and a soon-to-be-married couple couldn't wait and went in first."
What did he draw?
"The person being loved appears to be a woman, at least according to the data."
"Interesting, there's a [friend] scouting ahead."
Mr. Hearn whistled merrily, a plain piece of paper between his fingers, on which were written the bare minimum of words.
He examined it for a moment, then let go, allowing the letter to fly into the drizzling rain, where it quickly turned into a stream of pure data and disappeared.
"Alas, poor woman."
The devout woman, Hearn, sighed deeply, though she didn't know for whom.
"Ms. Touma will be surprisingly active in this script."
Charlotte von Lesenba casually tossed another sheet of paper into the air.
The sky was leaden gray, and the rain fell harder and harder.
This introduction is truly authentic, honest, and genuine.
Chapter 13 The Age of Madness (Part 1)
"The Earth is on the verge of destruction."
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"The world has been cursed."
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"Humanity has lost its courage."
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In Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo, at an intersection near the Budokaikan, the night of winter in the Northern Hemisphere is gradually falling, with light rain falling and a cold wind blowing.
Mr. Hearn exchanged a silent glance with Ms. Lesenba, both of them catching a similar look in each other's eyes: "I'm sorry, I really don't want to be the one to invite trouble, so please go first."
There's nothing that can be done about it. The Cook Islands, sandwiched between Fiji and Tahiti, are in a time zone that is nearly 19 hours ahead of Tokyo. While the people of Rarotonga are joyfully dancing around a bonfire to celebrate Christmas, Tokyo is still quietly waiting for Christmas Eve to arrive.
In the midst of this peaceful, harmonious, and joyous Christmas Eve atmosphere, a strange figure stood motionless at the crossroads. He was tall, wrapped in a heavy fur coat, wearing a black wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, and except for a mask, he looked exactly like a villainous high-ranking member of a certain popular detective drama about a boy who had turned back the clock in the first half of the 21st century. His name was Qin. He was also muttering inhumane remarks from time to time. Even Mr. Hearn was unsure whether he should go up and talk to him.
If it weren't for the millimeter-accurate positioning display showing that the bear spirit in front of me was indeed the one I had agreed to meet beforehand.
There was a good flow of people around, mostly audience members who had just finished watching the Christmas Eve Budokaikan charity concert. There were successful men and women with an elite aura, well-dressed elderly couples, industry professionals carrying instrument cases and leaving together, ordinary and harmonious happy family trios, high school students who yearned for the music world, middlemen selling Japanese watermelons (crossed out)/tickets for the next concert, and cops who had come after hearing about it.
Yes, a police officer.
Imagine this scene: under a gloomy gray sky, as night falls, freezing rain patters down, pedestrians hurry by, avoiding the rain. At the entrance of the Martial Arts Hall, a key landmark in the central urban area of the Far Eastern capital, stands an unusually conspicuous large black umbrella—a "bear spirit" completely bundled up in a top hat, sunglasses, mask, and fur coat; another, still wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals in the rain, with a white lab coat over it that looks more like a mental patient who escaped from a mental hospital after stealing a doctor's coat; and a "little red hat" diligently holding the umbrella on tiptoe. Add to that the dangerous remarks that occasionally escape the "bear spirit's" mouth, and even the most hardened thief would be tempted to question him, driven by professional ethics and conscience.
"Mr. Hearn, there's a troublesome person coming from the southwest," Little Red Riding Hood warned, holding up her umbrella as she looked around.
"Give me the umbrella. If you're short, don't always try to be strong." The woman took the umbrella from Charlotte and added, "Ban him, get ready to run away."
"learn."
After freeing up her hands, Little Red Riding Hood casually opened several window panels, her five fingers fluttering like butterflies.
Hey, you three!
The dutiful cop called out when he was about five steps away, one hand pressed tightly against his side in case of emergency. However, before he could finish speaking, his appearance, like the image on an old television with a faulty CRT, was briefly distorted and then vanished into gibberish.
The piercing alarm sounded throughout the clubhouse area as he disappeared. Pedestrians on the street looked up blankly at the iron-gray rain-soaked sky, or looked around in panic.
“The IP addresses of the cops in several districts of the capital are all monitored. Anyone who logs in or goes offline abnormally before the shift change will cause a chain reaction. Before kicking him out, we need to find a botnet from somewhere else to take the blame. Don’t tell me you would make such a low-level mistake?” Mr. Hearn turned around with a shocked look on his face while holding an umbrella.
"I know." Little Red Riding Hood closed the last window without changing her expression and looked up.
"Then why did you call the police?"
"I banned all their servers deployed in this neighborhood. There are 5 minutes left before the server restarts... Correction, 4 minutes and 58 seconds."
"You're absolutely amazing, my little darling!" Mr. Hearn scooped up Little Red Riding Hood and hoisted her over his shoulder, then grabbed the bear spirit's hand, which was encased in a leather glove, and they ran towards the nearest alley.
The bear spirit stumbled along, being dragged along by the Hawaiian mental patient, and the three of them quickly darted into an alley.
"Miss Touma, please cheer up. If you've been dumped by a man, just find another one. Is it really the end of the world? Also, did you pick up your car in your immigration paperwork when you returned to Tokyo? If you did, hurry up, or if we don't get going, we'll really be in jail once the cops' servers restart!"
The moment the bear spirit was pulled into the alley, the black coat covering her body rapidly transformed into data and dissipated, revealing a tall, black-haired girl. She wore a masculine full-length purple suit, with a white shirt collar tied with a tie in the same color as her coat. Her carefully applied makeup had not yet been washed off; as if she had just sneaked out of some solemn occasion, she was even wearing a pair of black stilettos that were inconvenient for outdoor activities.
At the same time, a crimson two-seater sports car emerged from a gap in the alley, its streamlined body slowly pulling up to the side of the road in the direction the three had fled, its headlights flashing.
"Just bear with it!" The believer Hearn skillfully raised the passenger door, sat down, placed Little Red Riding Hood on her lap, fastened her seatbelt, and everything was ready.
“I’m used to it,” Charlotte replied expressionlessly, her voice slightly sullen.
"Are you sure you want to ride in a car driven by a woman who's wearing high heels and just broke up with her boyfriend?" The woman dressed as a man skillfully got into the driver's seat, fastening her seatbelt as the doors closed, while simultaneously pulling out a piece of black ribbon and deftly tying her hair into a high ponytail.
"Ha, as if you've ever considered the passengers' feelings before. You have 4 minutes and 11 seconds to leave this block, Charlotte. Time to get to work. Mark this car off the map and disable its interaction logic with the environment."
“Based on my past riding experiences, I already disabled its environmental interaction logic when I boarded the bus,” Little Red Riding Hood replied with a gloomy face, seemingly recalling some unpleasant memories. “Alright, signal blocked.”
"Rejoice, Miss Touma! Now you can drive this ghost anywhere you want to go—whether it's to play our old-fashioned games at The Real Folk Blues bar, or go somewhere else to relax, see the scenery, and clear your mind. Of course, if you choose to give up and vent your anger, I'll accompany you to the very end, even if you drive all the way north to a church wedding to snatch someone away!"
"Shut up! If this is the Christmas Eve welcome you two meticulously planned for me, then I'd rather drive south into a mental hospital and send you there directly!"
"Women who have just experienced heartbreak are truly terrifying."
"I was just lamenting that humanity has lost the courage to believe that AI can replace humans in creating music independently."
"Isn't that a perfect match? This is a crazy era where praising someone's wife's beauty is no longer about saying 'Your wife is as perfect as a paper doll, I mean as perfect as a masterpiece,' but rather 'Your wife is as perfect as a cyborg.'"
"This is the worst of times."
"I second that. Also, just wondering, is it true that Touma's entire body is original?"
"What do you think? I'm a purist."
"That's good. It seems we can continue to be friends."
"Hold on tight!" Touma slammed the accelerator to the floor, her high heels slamming on.
Night had completely fallen over Tokyo. The crimson monster roared angrily and charged through the endless electronic night rain, crashing headlong into the dazzling neon world like a wild horse.
I really didn't want to use certain words that would ruin the atmosphere, but alas, censorship is inevitable.
Chapter 14 The Age of Madness (Part 2)
On a rainy night, the neon lights on the elevated overpass were dazzling.
A black Honda drove through the torrential rain, its engine emitting a deep roar that was quite different from its commercial appearance. The traffic on the elevated interchange was not heavy yet. The black Honda drifted into the corner, and the speed camera deep in the bend displayed a set of numbers that were enough to make the Tokyo Metropolitan Traffic Police stop slacking off and start working.
[241.7km/h], which is slower than that of top-tier race car drivers in the past, but surpasses the driving speed of most law-abiding citizens.
The interior of the Honda maintains its signature understated elegance, exuding sophistication and class. A silver cross hangs below the rearview mirror, strung together with a large red Chinese knot. The two sway from side to side as the driver jerks the steering wheel. The theme song of a TV series adapted from a martial arts novel by a renowned author from the latter half of the 20th century, "Hard to Recite Sutras," plays in the car. The subwoofer is at full power, delivering a powerful and passionate baritone voice. Warm yellow interior lights illuminate the silver cross, creating an atmosphere that is both solemn and festive.
Aside from his love of fast driving, Han is not much different from most Hong Kongers who have made their way in Tokyo.
Han was not worried about being stopped by the traffic police, and his speed was very safe.
In his view, Japan is a country full of all sorts of inexplicable yet endearing unspoken rules. The office workers here seem to have a split personality, dividing their lives into two parts: an extremely disciplined daily routine and an extremely indulgent non-daily routine. A well-mannered and eloquent executive of a large company during the day might transform into a renowned nightclub king after nightfall. The conscientious Tokyo traffic police diligently maintain traffic order in the city day after day, but they would never chase after a speeding car that is going 240 km/h.
The reason is simple: in the early 21st century, the standard-issue vehicles for traffic police in Tokyo were all old models with a speed limit of 190 km/h. This embarrassing situation has improved with the upgrading of products, and the performance of the vehicles used by Tokyo traffic police has improved rapidly.
However, how fast a car can go depends not only on its performance, but also on the driver.
Everyone has their own expertise and talents; a dedicated and outstanding sheriff does not necessarily have to be an equally outstanding race car driver.
When the performance limit of standard vehicles soared to 240km/h, accidental workplace injuries occurred, which contradicted the original intention of maintaining order.
Since then, the drivers and the police have reached an understanding, and an unwritten rule has begun to take shape in the industry, which has continued smoothly until the end of the century.
As time has passed, Christmas Eve in 2097 came earlier than usual.
Han is thirty-three years old this year, in his prime, slightly overweight, and not bald. He was born in the twenty-third year after humanity completely abandoned extraterrestrial exploration. In the distant years before his birth, the entire family of the Explorer spacecraft, spanning eighteen generations, was launched into space like water without any expense. Humanity was obsessed with searching for any possible clues that could prove they were not alone—the Moon, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune—and ultimately, inevitably and naturally, reached beyond the solar system.
The above are all oral accounts from the older generation, and their authenticity needs to be verified. At least that's what Han believes.
It's unclear when exactly, but humanity has lost its yearning for the vast starry sky. When they turn their gaze away from the distant stars and look up at the azure firmament, they are astonished to find that an invisible net has already been woven across the dome.
It began with the Third Industrial Revolution, flourished with the Fourth Industrial Revolution, and came to fruition with the Fifth Industrial Revolution.
Humans are lonely and unique, but the Earth is not.
From the moment Han first opened his eyes, the surge of information from the [Electronic Sea] completely overwhelmed his brain.
Long before he was born, humanity started from scratch and built a second "Utopia" after the Garden of Eden, a mirror-like twin Earth, in the ocean of electromagnetic waves that covers the entire globe.
This is the best of times.
Han sincerely believes this.
Han is already married and has a happy family. The three of them live in Hong Kong, but Han works for a company in Tokyo.
If time could be reversed back to the beginning of the century, Han would have to go to Japan alone, separated from his family forever. Every day, he would drag his tired body back to the company dormitory, turn on his computer or tablet to make a video call to his family for some comfort, and always be on guard against Old Wang next door.
On Christmas Eve, December 24, 2097, Han could indulge in a high-speed car ride on Tokyo's elevated highways, enjoying his non-routine time after get off work. In reality, he was sharing a loving bed with his wife in Hong Kong, without having to worry about any scheming neighbor surnamed Wang.
This is the best of times!
Han believed it deeply.
Politics, finance, trade, law, education, healthcare, and giant corporations—all elements of human civilization unrelated to actual production capacity—are realized in the electronic sea. The conflict that would normally arise from balancing work and family due to traveling to Japan can now be perfectly resolved with a long-term electronic visa signed by the Japanese consulate. Han works in the securities industry, and all his clients can communicate face-to-face in the electronic sea. With the realization and portability of deep-sea technology, even if Han were sitting on the toilet in his Hong Kong home, he could travel to any place on Earth he wanted in the electronic sea in the next second, provided he could obtain the corresponding country's entry visa.
This is the best of times!!
Han was not a natural-born fast driver; in fact, his eyesight was destroyed in a real-life traffic accident.
However, the rapid development of prosthetic technology in the latter half of the 21st century saved him from a tragic fate of endless darkness for the rest of his life. These mass-produced civilian prosthetic eyes not only restored his sight but also allowed him to drive at speeds exceeding 240 km/h with dynamic vision far surpassing that of ordinary people.
After millions of years, the theories of genetic superiority and bloodline, championed by those who benefited from the natural evolutionary process, were finally eliminated by highly advanced prosthetic technology, allowing humanity to return to equality.
No one will be discriminated against because they are born ugly, no one will suffer because of congenital defects, and no one will live with lifelong regret because of unexpected misfortune.
No one is born noble because of their genes or lineage!
As a devout Christian, Han firmly believes that cybernetic modification technology is a gift from God to mankind, and that a world of equality for all has finally arrived with the maturity of cybernetic modification technology.
This is the best of times!!!
Everything a person can have in the electronic sea is the same as what they have in reality. After completing the upload of personal information and passing the verification and review through relevant channels, the equal and fair electronic sea will simulate a second body for the person that is completely consistent with the physical body. The performance of this data-driven body is completely equivalent to the physical body in reality, including the prosthetic part.
An equal and just electronic sea, a highly ordered human utopia, where no one can act recklessly.
"Damn it!!! (in Chinese)"
The sense of crisis cultivated by years of shrimp fishing pulled Han out of his reverie. He swiftly turned the steering wheel to the right, reacting extremely quickly, and the black luxury Honda shifted to the right by one parking space as it sped along.
A crimson Maserati darted through the rain like a ghost, disappearing into the lane previously occupied by the Honda. Less than 0.2 seconds passed between its appearance in Han's rearview mirror and its passing.
With a reaction time of 0.2 seconds, Han avoided a car accident in the sea of electronics thanks to his excellent driving skills; at least, that's how he saw it.
A crazy driver who doesn't watch where he's going!
Han Na's heart, now middle-aged, pounded violently like a drum, and the icy touch simulated by electronic signals crept up his back—it was cold sweat.