Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Do Androids Pray for a Cybernetic Heaven? (2)
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We exchanged brief greetings with the mother and daughter we hadn't seen in a while.
"How have you been, Karen?"
"Yes, thanks to you, Saintess. Sophia safely enrolled in school and is doing wonderfully."
Karen, who still lacked citizenship and lived in the outskirts, wore a happy smile on her face.
She beamed through her wrinkled features as she explained how she could spend time with her daughter during breaks, and how the beauty salon she originally ran was thriving even more thanks to the church, making life so much better.
I turned my gaze to her proud daughter.
"Sophia, is school suiting you? No... discomfort or bullying?"
The once-blind genius painter now gazed at the world with sparkling eyes and answered energetically.
"Yes! Everyone around me is kind and treats me well. They all praised my latest finished painting so much."
Fortunately, Sophia seemed well-adjusted to life here.
Perhaps because the art school was full of students for whom education didn't tie directly to livelihood. There was no sign of bullying external scholarship students like her; instead, a leisurely, relaxed atmosphere prevailed.
I glanced around suddenly. Students walking the campus. Remarkably, many had no implants at all.
Such a sight would only be found in special classes at the Academy.
'This must be what art looks like in this era.'
Worse than AI, or special precisely because of surpassing AI.
Amid this extreme polarization in all art forms, the art school's choice embodied the latter.
A place valuing pure humanity above all, where even entering with a mechanized body was impossible.
And in a city where everything was tainted, living with a pure body symbolized immense wealth. Thus, most students were children of the elite. Sophia, who entered on an art contest scholarship, was a rare exception.
They attended half as a hobby without livelihood worries, unlike the Academy where grades linked directly to corporate jobs. No real reason to bully anyone unbecomingly.
So hearing she was adored by her seniors put my mind at ease.
As we chatted casually with the mother and daughter after so long, we soon arrived at the exhibition hall.
A student gallery set up in part of a campus building.
Stepping inside the stately structure, the outside world's noise gradually faded.
Under soft lighting, artworks hung one by one on clean monochrome walls came into view.
In the gallery's signature serene, peaceful hush, neatly dressed visitors slowly appreciated the pieces.
The solemn mood naturally hushed our voices too.
"This one's by a senior I'm close with—an oil painting using impasto technique to layer thick paint for texture of light. Isn't it amazing?"
The girl explained eagerly yet quietly in deference to the surroundings, but honestly, I couldn't follow. I knew little about art. Still, they were intuitively beautiful to the eye, and I could faintly sense the artist's effort and passion captured on the canvas.
We toured the hall following her guidance for a while. Then it happened.
'Something...'
I'd noticed earlier, but the vibe felt off somehow.
Visitors were whispering and glancing our way. More precisely, at me.
'What? Do I have something on me?'
I straightened my clothes and brushed back my hair, but the stares persisted.
Then Sophia finally stopped at the innermost wall.
There hung a painting with a "Freshman Representative" placard, radiating unusually bright, intense colors.
"This is... my painting."
The girl spoke shyly yet proudly.
At her words, we all held our breath and gazed at her work.
"It's... an angel."
As Yoanna murmured unwittingly, an angel indeed filled the canvas.
Rendered in the reverent, sacred style of religious art. But if that face seemed familiar... was it my imagination?
'No, it's me...?!'
Shimmering silver hair as if glowing on its own. A beauty gazing down with a gentle yet somehow sorrowful, complex expression. Wings spread freely wide, enveloped in brilliant, warm radiance.
No wonder people had been stealing glances; now it all made sense. Honestly, it felt overly idealized, making my face burn. But the painting itself was stunningly beautiful.
God's compassion and mercy toward humanity expressed through the angel's beauty and light emanating from her fingertips. Even I, a complete art novice, felt overwhelmed— it was that masterfully done.
Facing the girl's expectant look, I stammered my impressions.
"I had no idea you used me as a model... it surprised me. The painting is really beautiful."
Sophia shyly explained.
"When I opened my eyes again from the darkness, I wanted to capture that first sight. The way you shared love equally with everyone, without any barriers..."
"........."
Her words tickled a corner of my heart. Seeing the once-blind girl now proudly unfolding her world with such a happy face filled me with pride and fulfillment.
Immersed in appreciation, we silently admired the painting for a while.
Then someone approached quietly and stood beside us, speaking up.
"Who'd have thought the model was a real person. I figured she could only exist in the painting."
The speaker was a man in a light shirt and slacks.
He pulled an electronic business card from his shirt pocket and said,
"Ah, my manners. Let me introduce myself first."
Checking the card he offered, Yoanna beside me quietly added,
"Veridique... a pretty famous luxury brand in the city."
Introducing himself as their marketing manager, the man lightly asked me,
"Any interest in modeling, by chance?"
Surprisingly, such an offer no longer flustered me much. My own calm reaction was more astonishing.
Swallowing the odd feeling, I refused politely yet familiarly.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested."
"What a shame. You have such a classy image perfect for our brand... Oh right, that wasn't my original purpose for greeting you."
He shrugged and turned to Sophia.
"Miss, are you the artist who painted this? Any plans to sell it after the exhibition? Our CEO wants it badly. His son attends this school, came to browse, and fell completely in love with this piece."
"Uh, um??"
The girl panicked, her face saying she never dreamed of this, glancing nervously around. Then her mother Karen asked me worriedly,
"Eve, what should we do?"
"Huh? Why ask me... It's Sophia's painting."
I replied in bewilderment, then realized.
Since I was the model, Sophia hesitated to sell without my say. But this was her creation through her own effort. I nodded slightly to Sophia, signaling it was fine and up to her.
The man grinned at the scene.
"Excellent. Considering the artist is a minor student, we'll discuss the painting's value and sale price later with your supervising professor."
With that, they set a follow-up and he departed with a courteous bow.
I smiled at the still-dazed Sophia.
"That's great. You can put it toward tuition."
At my words, mother and daughter bowed deeply before me.
"Th-thank you, sis..."
"Thank you, Eve. Such immense help again..."
I waved it off in fluster.
"No, I didn't do anything... Please calm down."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Finishing the viewing, we exited the exhibition hall.
Emerging from the dim gallery into sunlight again filled my heart with satisfaction, like after a proper cultural outing.
I said to the two.
"Thanks for inviting me, Karen, Sophia. The paintings were really beautiful."
"Sis, you'll come see more next time, right?"
"Of course. Call me anytime."
I grasped the girl's hand firmly one last time, adding,
"You're already a splendid artist, but I pray you'll do even better ahead."
With farewell greetings, our outing ended.
Heading to the car parked near the school, I asked the pair,
"What did you think? Yoanna, Esty?"
"Sophia is still young, but her skill is impressive."
"Not quite as beautiful as the real sis... but still a pretty painting."
As we chatted idly while walking, we encountered a commotion far ahead.
".....?"
At the art school's main gate, a group held placards in protest.
Their chants rang clear even amid the city's din.
"Grant androids basic rights!"
"We have emotions too! Recognize us as human!"
'Androids...?'
Android. By definition, AI robots in human form.
They looked scarcely different from humans externally, calling themselves androids while protesting.
Their sophisticated synthetic skin made them appear more human than cyborg mercenaries.
I knew such robots existed in the city, but this was my first time seeing them outside the game.
Outskirts had no need for androids like these. Humans were far cheaper anyway. Dangerous, dirty—whatever the job, just use people.
Maybe in entertainment districts for special purposes, but I'd never entered those. Besides, android production halted years ago here, so numbers were low.
Yet these robot protesters now blocked the gate we were exiting.
"Abolish the Android Ownership Law now!"
"We! Are alive! We! Are human!"
Suddenly, I understood why they'd chosen here.
This era's art prized humanity itself highest.
Thus, androids seeking recognition protesting at an art school held strong symbolic value. Plus, with elite kids attending, it drew attention. Reporters were already snapping photos.
As I pondered, Esty said quietly,
"Eve, best to stay back from the scene."
"Yes?"
As I turned to her, blaring sirens erupted from afar.
Soon, patrol cars arrived near campus.
Riot-geared police poured out.
'ODPD...!'
Not just androids—this was my first real glimpse of them too.
The police swiftly formed ranks and—snap—unfolded electric stun batons in unison.
Crackle—
Soon, vicious blue arcs of current leaped there.
"........."
"........."
The android protesters grew restless at the sight.
But before they could react, ODPD riot squad charged to disperse them.
Then merciless beatings began.
Thud—thwack—
"Aaagh!"
"Guhhh!!!"
The one-sided assault on protesters was gruesome. Their forms so human-like.
Brutal blows spared no head or vitals.
But from torn synthetic skin and shattered mechanical limbs flowed not red blood, but thin orange fluid.
"........."
Caught off-guard by the sudden violence, I hesitated watching.
Had they been real people getting beaten like that, I'd have intervened immediately.
Not seeing people as people, oppressing the weak through force alone was wrong. I'd confronted such evils, protected folks, built the church.
But... were these androids before me people? Or machines?
In Omega Detroit's laws, androids remained "property," not human. Claims of their intelligence and emotions? Merely sophisticated mimicry.
Was watching someone kick a vending machine rage-worthy for a bystander, not the owner?
To judge if it was truly human required defining "humanity" first. But in this city, that line blurred terribly. Countless with hearts acted colder than machines.
"........."
As I grappled in confusion, the android protesters scattered in flight.
ODPD riot squad pursued the fugitives relentlessly.