Copyright 2025 Old King, All rights reserved

  The reception desk stood at one side of the lobby, its curved design featuring a white acrylic panel engraved with the words “HuaCent,” sleek yet imposing. Three Nuwa H1 humanoid robot receptionists, powered by Premium Soul Ore, wore navy-blue uniforms and responded to visitors in hushed tones. Nearby, a holographic display showcased a Nuwa H1 holding a HuaCent smart device, shaking hands with a human, set against a backdrop blending Eastern ink-wash landscapes with global city skylines. On the other side, a screen flickered with appointment details. The waiting area to the left held black leather sofas, a coffee table scattered with paper corporate magazines, their covers brimming with grand visions of robots and consciousness science. In one corner, the coffee bar’s machine hummed, the rich aroma of authentic Yunnan coffee beans wafting through the air.

  The lobby buzzed with employees, their chest badges swaying, footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. In the distance, a holographic screen looped a promotional video: “Connecting the Future, Enlightening the World.” Beside it, foreign engineers chatted with local staff, and their conversation was a mix of English and Chinese. A soft broadcast chimed: “To comply with curfew regulations during the state of emergency, all personnel are required to extend work hours and stay overnight in the office. For details, please contact the General Affairs Department.”

  Ruoxi had applied silicone patches to her face, wore custom contact lenses, and was dressed in a sharp black blazer paired with matching trousers, outlining an elegant yet professional silhouette. On the surface, she exuded confidence and strength, but deep within, the painful memories of her past at HuaCent weighed heavily, suffocating her. Forcing herself to stay composed, she approached a multifunctional self-service terminal, one of the neatly arranged cabinet-like machines along the wall. Sensing her presence, a holographic screen emerged, and a neutral voice prompted: “Please state your business.” Ruoxi cleared her throat softly, inserting the authorization chip LureSiren had given her into the slot. The machine hummed as it swallowed the chip.

  “Lin Mei, female, 27, outsourced technical consultant. Welcome!” The holographic screen announced coldly: “Please stand still, keeping your body and head steady for scanning.” A red light shot from the machine, scanning her from head to toe: “Identity verified. Please retrieve your employee card. Your access permissions: Floors 14 to 15, Levels B5 to B7. Wear your card at all times while in the building. Proceed to Floor 15 to report to the division manager.” Technically, HuaCent could have used a softer female voice, but they deliberately chose an icy, mechanical tone to reinforce employee compliance.

  Posing as an efficiency consultant from a U.S. consulting firm, her mission was to optimize the organizational structure and processes of the AbyssNet business unit. This was LureSiren’s deal—access codes in exchange for Premium Soul Ore disks and Old Wen’s name. The trade was a steal, granting her a direct source of underground Soul Ore drives.

  Ruoxi took a deep breath and headed toward the entrance gate, queuing to swipe her card. The iris scanner flashed green: “Identity verified. Please take Elevator 5.” A promotional slogan glared at her: “Digital immortality begins with consciousness upload.” Ruoxi gritted her teeth and muttered, “Immortality? Just turning people into prisoners of data.”

  The AbyssNet R&D division’s office was a hive of activity, filled with young faces. The manager, a wiry man in his mid-thirties with a gleaming bald head and bloodshot, sunken eyes, was visibly shocked and panicked by the efficiency consultant’s arrival. He knew the company acted decisively—once a decision was made, nothing could stop it. Inviting Ruoxi to sit on the sofa, he stammered, “The higher-ups didn’t notify me, and I haven’t prepared. My apologies! How many people from your firm are here?” He glanced nervously toward the door, then asked, “An efficiency consultant… what exactly does that entail?”

  Ruoxi sat poised, her calm demeanor laced with a subtle edge of menace. She pulled a tablet from her bag, donned AR glasses, and said, “Manager Zhao, no need to be nervous. We’ve been commissioned by your company to submit an operational efficiency and cost analysis report for your department within two days. It’s simple. DOGE’s primary principle is to start from the root, pursuing ultimate efficiency by returning to basic needs and logic, breaking traditional constraints, and optimizing systems and resource allocation.”

  Hiring U.S.-based efficiency consultants was all the rage among Shenzhen’s high-tech firms. These consulting firms, founded by ex-DOGE’s genius teams, were a nightmare for internal employees. Their arrival, often lasting no more than three days, triggered mass layoffs, budget slashes, and department restructurings. HuaCent favored young, energetic workers aged 20 to 35, treating them as Human Ore to fuel the R&D furnace until they burned out. Manager Zhao had only survived the 35-year-old cutoff thanks to a university senior’s protection in the upper ranks. But this DOGE consultancy signaled a new wave of office politics from the top. Staring at the young, polished consultant, fear filled his eyes as he asked, “Would you like me to give you a tour, get you familiar with the environment, and maybe hold a meeting to introduce you…?”

  “No need,” Ruoxi cut him off coldly. “Our method is to observe as outsiders, immersing ourselves in the environment. Besides, your company has provided us with financial, HR, and operational structure data. Manager Zhao, just ensure I have freedom of movement.”

  Obstructing, or even delaying, a DOGE consultant’s review was grounds for immediate dismissal or forced resignation. Zhao knew the stakes well. Rather than face instant ruin, he’d buy time to strategize with his senior contact before the report was submitted. Rubbing his thigh slowly, he said, “No problem… Please proceed as you wish. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Accessing the underground server room was surprisingly smooth. Ceramic firewall panels reflected cold light, and server arrays emitted a low hum. To support the immense computational power, Ruoxi noticed they used liquid helium cooling—an astonishing expense. AbyssNet was indeed HuaCent’s top-priority project. Upon hearing her identity, the staff turned ashen, scrambling for excuses to flee—some claiming they needed the restroom, others saying they forgot to turn off the kettle in the break room. The server room emptied in seconds. Rumors had spread through Shenzhen’s workplaces: DOGE consultants could ask questions at any moment, and unsatisfactory answers might lead to immediate termination.

  It took only seconds to locate Avei’s copy. Everything was going too smoothly, leaving Ruoxi both thrilled and on edge. Trembling, she pulled a hard drive from her bag. "What needed to be done was to copy Avei out and then delete the copy on the server. At least his consciousness was then in her hands, no longer HuaCent’s “asset.” Her mind ran through a clear task list: download all Chest-Born Project data, plant a virus set to activate in three hours, which would completely fry the server array’s computers. Years of longing were about to be fulfilled.

  “Ruoxi Lam!” A man’s voice exploded beside her. Ruoxi instinctively looked up, hearing a loud “bang” as a metallic net shot toward her, ensnaring her completely, rendering her immobile. She struggled briefly, only to fall to the floor. A pair of soft-soled shoes stepped into view, and the man crouched down. He was in his early forties, lean and muscular, with no visible cybernetic implants. Studying Ruoxi in the net, he said, “Ruoxi Lam, we’ve been searching everywhere for you, and here you are, walking right into our trap.” He patted her cheek, smirking smugly, “You’ve got some guts, dealing with LureSiren. Don’t you know she’s infamous for playing both sides?”

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  Ruoxi was shoved into the cylindrical consciousness extraction chamber, strapped flat on the examination table with restraints binding her body. Her neck and head were locked in place by an immobilizer, leaving her unable to move. A holographic screen displayed a kindly old woman explaining precautions for consciousness extraction, soothing the subject’s nerves. “Please remain calm and embrace this leap in human consciousness science with a peaceful mindset. You’ll feel a slight sting as the needles insert, but as the current flows, the energy at each acupoint will not only eliminate pain but also relieve brain fatigue and stimulate neural repair. This is the latest evolution of acupuncture, a 5,000-year legacy of our great nation’s civilization. Let us proudly say…”

  The probe array, a disk bristling with dense golden needles, hovered just 30 centimeters to the top of her head. Once the extraction began, the disk would slide slowly until all needles were in place. A technician nearby remarked, “Hey, why hasn’t her head been shaved?” His colleague scoffed, eyes on the console. “ThunderVolt personally ordered us to move quickly.”

  “That could cause an infection. Shaving takes, what, a few minutes? It’s not like it saves—”

  “Why don’t you go explain to ThunderVolt at the door why he’s waiting?” the colleague snapped impatiently. “This is an InfoSec department subject. She doesn’t need to live long enough for a scalp infection. Stop worrying about it.”

  Listening to their exchange, Ruoxi’s consciousness seemed to detach from her body, as if she were floating above, watching them prepare to extract someone else’s mind. She thought of Avei, whom she hadn’t saved, and her tears streamed unbidden from the corners of her eyes, pooling at her temples. The holographic projection vanished abruptly, replaced by soft music in the extraction chamber. A hum grew overhead as the probe array began its slow approach. It was all over. Ruoxi felt an eerie calm. Goodbye, you wretched world.

  The door burst open, and a woman shouted, “Stop it now!” The emergency stop button was slammed, halting all equipment, silencing the hum. The woman continued, “Get her down!”

  “Dr. Liang,” a technician said, “This was Manager Thunder’s order…”

  Ruoxi was pulled from the extraction chamber, her face streaked with tears. From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman in her forties wearing a white lab coat at the console. The man who followed her—was he ThunderVolt?

  ThunderVolt spoke in a low voice. “Follow Dr. Liang’s orders. Get her down and take her away.”

  Dr. Liang scolded ThunderVolt, who kept his head bowed. “I told you, using consciousness extraction tech—safety issues aside—the extracted memories need to be analyzed one by one, distinguishing what’s real from what’s a dream. It’s completely unreliable!”

  ThunderVolt, still looking down, mumbled, “But last time…”

  “I haven’t even settled the score with you for last time!” Dr. Liang snapped angrily. “You produced a pile of data, and it took my team a week to find one useful piece. I don’t care about your merits or awards, but company resources can’t be wasted like this. Do you know how urgent the project’s progress is? The entire division is working 007…”

  Ruoxi awoke, her head pounding, throat parched. Another interrogation room. Magnetic locks clamped her wrists and ankles, digging painfully into her skin. Her disheveled reflection stared back from the one-way glass. A woman sat across the metal table, about forty, her eyes brimming with gentle warmth, her voice like silk. She pressed a button, and a holographic image appeared: Avei walking with Ruoxi through a sea of flowers, floating at the edge of the universe. “Sis! Look! Our ocean of stars!” Ruoxi’s heart twisted like a knife, her tears spilling. It was fake… so why did it hurt so much?

  The woman coaxed softly, “Ruoxi Lam, do you miss Avei? He’s doing well now, a key member of the team.”

  Ruoxi clenched her teeth. “It’s all fake! You’re all liars! Avei’s dead!”

  “Avei’s clearly alive and well. How can you say he’s dead?” The woman feigned surprise. “We didn’t let you see him back then because he was working on a confidential research project for HuaCent, for our Chinese nation. It’s an honor!”

  Her tears streamed down Ruoxi’s face as she rasped, “You killed him! You even sold his organs!”

  The woman adopted a look of being misunderstood. “Avei was a good comrade. After uploading his consciousness, he donated his body to the company, letting it shine in places where it was needed most. What a noble spirit! You can’t demean such a good comrade like that!” She paused, then continued, “As materialists, we must view problems through the lens of transformation and contradiction. With technological progress, the old contradiction of finite physical life versus infinite spiritual pursuit has shifted to the contradiction between limited human knowledge and the exploration of the unknown.”

  Ruoxi roared, “Liars! You’re all liars! He’s dead! Your so-called consciousness is just an incomplete copy. The real Avei died with his body. His soul is gone!”

  “Oh, Ruoxi, you can’t say that…” The woman sighed, her eyes filled with pity. “In the past, our work wasn’t thorough enough. We didn’t handle the ideological education of you, his family, properly, and some leaders were too harsh. Your ideological errors led to radical thoughts, and you ran away for years. That was our failure, and on behalf of the company, I apologize.”

  Ruoxi’s eyes widened in shock. “What? My ideological errors…”

  “Now, Ruoxi, don’t get agitated,” the woman interrupted, guiding her gently. “We understand that your wavering ideology, coupled with years of exposure to misguided ideas in society—feudal superstitions about the sanctity of the soul, bourgeois notions of individual personality—those decadent, obsolete ideologies have poisoned you deeply! Seeing you like this, I truly feel… oh, such pity!”

  She tapped the screen again, and the holographic display showed Avei standing in the familiar sea of flowers, waving to Ruoxi. “Sis, hi! We finally meet again!”

  “Avei!” Ruoxi’s eyes widened. “Avei! It’s me, your sister! Are you okay? Where are you?”

  Avei stood in the flower sea, bathed in sunlight, radiant and handsome. “Sis, I’m doing great! For a while, I was on a confidential company development mission and couldn’t see you. I missed you so much! Don’t worry about me, I’m fine! When our project succeeds, we’ll meet again. Take care of yourself, okay? Trust the company, trust our future—it’s in the ocean of stars!”

  Before Ruoxi could respond, the screen shut off, leaving Avei’s image as a lingering afterimage on her retinas. “Fake! It’s all fake! You liars! Give me back my brother!”

  The woman shook her head with a soft sigh. “Ruoxi, you disappoint me so much… Your brother is so outstanding, so enlightened, so proactive at work. The company and his colleagues all respect him. But you, as his sister, can’t drag him down!” Her tone sharpened, her gaze piercing. “We’ll set aside your misconceptions about the company for now. But colluding with foreign hostile forces to infiltrate and sabotage the company—what’s that about?”

  “What foreign forces?” Ruoxi shouted furiously. “I just want Avei back and revenge!”

  The woman gave a cold huff, pulling an evidence bag from her purse containing Ruoxi’s AR glasses. “You stored a malicious virus created by the South Sea Fleet. If injected, it would paralyze our entire R&D system—no, all of HuaCent, even all of Shenzhen! What kind of behavior is this? Just because you’re stuck in your ideological dead end, you became a lapdog for foreign hostile forces, willing to destroy Shenzhen’s society and economy to ‘save’ your brother? The South Sea Fleet has been eyeing Shenzhen, constantly infiltrating and sabotaging. Now, with tensions with Vietnam, they’re desperate, ready to overthrow the Shenzhen Republic and turn it into their new home port. When they landed at Plum Beach back then, how many died? How much economic loss did we suffer? Today’s stable, prosperous development came at a cost! Think about it—helping them sabotage and overthrow, what kind of crime is that? If we hand you to the National Security Bureau, you’ll face the death penalty. Are you worthy of Avei? Worthy of the company that nurtured you?”

  Ruoxi, stunned by this dialectical, binary rhetoric, opened her mouth to speak, but found no words.

  Seeing her hesitation, the woman softened, her tone warm with concern. “Considering you’re Avei’s family, and this situation partly stems from our failure in ideological work, we bear some responsibility. We’ll give you a chance. If you publicly admit you were instigated by SouthSea Transport, clearly state the time, place, and people involved, and confess everything you know, we’ll consider handling your case more humanely.” She glanced at the time and said, “You have twelve hours to think it over. Reflect on the hardships you’ve faced in society, examine your mistakes, and dig deep into the roots of your ideology. Your time is running out. Think about Avei, and don’t ruin his future…”