Malfunctioning Utopia

Chapter 61: Calmness

With everything resolved, the group dispersed and went their separate ways, with AA doing the same.

Although she was still a little worried about the boss, the sight of her account showing a balance of 3@ filled her face with a grin she couldn’t hide.

She now had a job—a well-paying one, at that. While it was a bit dangerous, just having a job in The Metropolis was something that made her incredibly happy.

More than the new job, she was eager to integrate herself into the group. Four Ai, Tapai, King Kong, Song 6PUS—she looked forward to getting to know every one of them.

There was one thing she hadn’t told the boss: why she wanted to be a mercenary. It was because she had been alone for a very long time.

From leaving the factory, finding work, being scammed, and even killing—all of it she had done alone. She was utterly lonely.

She craved friendship and didn’t want to be by herself anymore, but no one wanted to be her friend. Everyone was too busy making money, focused only on their own affairs, like soulless money-making machines.

Even in cyberspace, it was the same. In games, everyone only cared about making money.

But Jack was different. That bowl of noodles was the first act of kindness she had received in years. AA had no family or friends, but she thought—this must be what family feels like.

Jack was truly different. In this cold, indifferent city, he shone like a diamond.

“No matter what’s bothering the boss, I hope he pulls himself together soon,” AA murmured as she descended into the subway station three levels underground, boarding the train that would take her home.

Through the train windows, the violent and crude advertisements splashed everywhere no longer seemed as unpleasant. She opened her music playlist through her system interface and started humming along to the songs.

With music as her companion, the train stopped and started over a two-hour journey. When AA finally stepped out of the station, she was near the outskirts of The Metropolis. The area was littered with garbage heaps, with streetlights that flickered inconsistently or didn’t light at all.

This was the suburban fringe that encircled The Metropolis, the only area with rent cheaper than the Queens District.

Beyond the suburbs lay the "Concrete Forest," a relic of the previous era. It had no economic value, so even BCPD and gangs rarely ventured there.

AA didn’t want to live so far out, but rent in The Metropolis was exorbitant, and she simply couldn’t afford it.

Now, she pulled up her hood, covering her entire face, and walked along the edge of the dilapidated street toward her home.

After walking for twenty minutes, a shadow appeared in the distance. Without a word, the figure opened fire on her.

But AA had already dodged behind a pile of garbage before the shots rang out. She pulled a short pistol from her bag and began returning fire.

This area occasionally had robbers, but they were typically poor and carried subpar weapons, so AA could handle them with ease.

Even as she shot back, AA couldn’t suppress her excitement. Taking cover behind the garbage pile, she cupped her hands like a megaphone and shouted joyfully toward the robber, “Hey, Mr. Robber! Are you there!?”

“I’m here!” the robber yelled back.

“I got a new job today! A very high-paying job!”

“Really? Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! Well then, I won’t rob you today. Make sure you work hard and earn lots of money!”

“Okay! Thank you! I’ll do my best!” AA replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving from the other side of the garbage heap.

She soon arrived at a collapsed building. After ensuring no one was following her, she flipped open a sealed manhole cover and slipped inside.

This underground pipeline was her home. A hammock hung mid-air, various handmade furniture adorned the walls, and two glowing mushrooms sat in pots. Everything she owned was mounted on the walls.

It wasn’t that she wanted to live on the walls; the lower part of the pipes constantly flowed with rainwater. This was one of the drainage systems that carried The Metropolis’s acidic rainwater out of the city.

On the wall, she had drawn her dreams with fluorescent paint—herself living in a large room, accompanied by another version of herself and a small dog.

AA had crafted many things to make her home cozier, but it was still cold and damp.

Sometimes, she felt no different from a homeless person. The only difference was that she still held on to hope, and now, that hope was finally rewarded.

A faint light illuminated her small home. The electricity came from a miniature hydroelectric generator she had built, powered by the flowing water below.

“Humming~ humming~” AA sang as she adjusted her handmade water purifier to filter the acidic rainwater.

Though the filtered water was still undrinkable, it was just about usable for washing.

After cleaning up, AA jumped onto her hammock and tucked her legs under a slightly moldy blanket.

She opened her system UI and saw another AA appear before her. This version of herself was in a beautiful garden, enjoying a refined afternoon tea.

This was an OR simulation game, a virtual companion app that allowed users to create a personal AI partner within their system.

The free version offered only the lowest detail settings and the most basic AI intelligence, I1.

This was AA’s only form of entertainment. Without even this small escape, she wondered if life would have any meaning at all.

With 0.1@ uploaded to the game’s cloud server, the virtual AA’s expression became more vivid. She reached out her hand gently and said, “AA, my love.”

“Baby, I got a job!” AA hugged her virtual companion tightly and poured out all her thoughts and feelings.

“Don’t worry. One day, I’ll make sure you can meet me in the real world,” she vowed.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Sun Jack had finally calmed down, though he still couldn’t accept the idea that his memories might be fake.

He stared at his phone, flipping through old photos—images of a world that was uniquely his.

“This is a family photo, yes. This is the school, right. And this…”

Bit by bit, he compared the photos to his memories. With every match, his tense expression relaxed slightly.

When all the photos aligned with his recollections, he set the phone down and exhaled deeply. “It’s real. My memories haven’t been altered. Definitely not.”

“A phone full of photos isn’t exactly compelling evidence,” Tapai said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Sun Jack frowned at him. “How is it not compelling? Everything matches! If my memories were fake, would these screenshots be fake too?”

“If someone’s tampered with your memories, do you think your phone would be harder to manipulate than your brain? Even I can edit photos,” Tapai retorted.

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