Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Talking Machine (2)
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In the cyberpunk worldview, I had less common sense than an eight-year-old child.
But that didn't mean I felt fear or surprise at the existence of androids—artificial intelligences that thought and acted like humans.
I'd encountered them so often in games and movies.
And in the world I'd originally lived in, similar things weren't entirely absent.
For example, there were things like Siri, or Iru-da, or Jammin developed by MegaCorp G...
Anyway.
Thanks to that, I wasn't too flustered even with a turret that had suddenly found its voice.
"Whoa, you really hit the nail on the head..."
"AIs like you are really rare. You're completely different from typical artificial intelligences. You're speaking almost from a bird's-eye view."
What a buzzkill.
I picked up the speaker with the cable attached and headed to my dedicated chair.
"What business do I have with you?"
"Hmm, just."
Nova was definitely on another level from the average AIs I knew.
The responses were still single syllables, sure.
But in the latter case, the intent of "What the hell is this crazy guy babbling about...?" came through loud and clear.
Nova's voice through the speaker in my hand sounded much softer than expected.
Gentle, calm, with clear, precise pronunciation.
A warm woman's voice.
There was still an artificial edge to it, but that only made it feel like a unique personality trait.
"Just that. I wanted to hear your voice."
It wasn't something that needed a special reason.
It wasn't that hard, either.
I looked up and met the turret's lens with my eyes.
"You must've been frustrated not being able to speak."
The turret's warning beep sounded first,
then the voice continued from the speaker.
"Nova."
"There aren't any customers coming anyway. What's the harm? I'm just bored and want you to chat with me."
The turret's lens lit up slowly.
"Tsk, it kinda feels like commanding GPT."
Whiiiing.
The turret's barrel slowly turned toward me.
I knew it was just to look at me directly, but for some reason today, it sent chills down my neck.
"Just something similar. Anyway, you can talk more casually."
I stared at the turret's lens in horror.
"What are you talking about, Nova Nova...?"
There was no way the AI controlling the turret knew internet memes.
Or rather.
'A new personality...?'
That was absolutely impossible.
This turret had been living in the same house (grocery store) as me for days—no one else.
I didn't know why it suddenly said that, but in this insane cyberpunk world where I'd been relying on Nova for a lot inwardly, it hit like a thunderbolt.
"Never mind."
I plopped down in the chair, gripping the speaker with both hands.
The warehouse temperature was nicely cool.
Not freezer-cold, more like a fridge.
For my improved physical abilities overall, it felt just right.
In one corner of the warehouse, the outdoor unit hummed steadily, like white noise.
"Let's just talk about anything until I fall asleep."
"Yeah, like taking a nap."
It wasn't something a grocery store worker should be doing in broad daylight, but Christine had told me it wasn't run for profit anyway.
My sense of responsibility as a grocery store part-timer—no, manager—had already hit rock bottom.
I slowly closed my eyes
and fully enjoyed the healing time.
"Hmm, food or something."
My food intake had increased a lot.
Lately, I'd been interested in other foods too.
Though hotdogs were still the best.
"?"
"......"
It happened in an instant.
My body floated lightly as sleep overtook me.
Sleep rushed in like I'd been hit with a hunting tranquilizer.
I slept so deeply I couldn't even remember my dreams...
Peaceful dinner time.
Even the homeless folks who usually bared their teeth like Pokémon trainers upon eye contact were sharing food amiably at this hour.
Michael, having heard my story, didn't hide his surprise.
"An AI and a turret. Quite the unusual combo. If it's advanced enough for conversation, it could be used as an android."
"Aren't talking robots just all androids?"
I asked out of genuine ignorance.
The old man at the recycle shop (Walter) had been the same, talking like the word 'android' had special meaning.
I thought any machine that acted and spoke like a human was an android, even without human skin draped over it.
That's how I understood it.
"Well, not much difference. After Replicon Enterprise Corporation developed and released robots endlessly close to humans under the 'android' model name, people started calling humanoid robots with AI 'androids' more often."
"Oh."
Michael carefully tore into the greasy chicken.
"It became easier to think that techno-polis and Luddite activists worrying about AI rights surged around that time."
"Techno... what?"
"Techno-polis. Luddites. Terms for people who worship or reject machines."
The chicken was soon reduced to bare bones.
He eyed the bones wistfully, then crunched them like candy.
"Honestly, when I first saw Hotdog Man, I thought you were with a Luddite group."
At the same time, Michael's pupils faintly glimmered.
Like he was detecting a signal with mechanical eyes.
"Proper purists are rare in Risk City, especially in these bottom districts."
"Hmm, I'm really not involved at all."
"I know. No need to explain."
Michael had already pegged me as a 'mysterious figure hiding their identity and descending to Area 49.' He wouldn't listen to excuses.
"I saw with my own eyes how you single-handedly crushed the Bogers Gang and blew up their entire building without a trace left, but you say you're just a normal person. Of course I'll believe you."
"I didn't blow up the build—"
"Yes, yes, I know. You said that."
He really wasn't even pretending to listen.
Michael nodded to himself and continued.
"Our trust hasn't built up yet since we've only met recently. I'll work harder to earn it later."
"...Do whatever you want."
I replied, biting into a warmed hotdog.
Empty hotdog wrappers were piled up in front of me already, but these were days I couldn't get by without eating.
The homeless around me gathered, murmuring at the sight.
"How many boxes of hotdogs already?"
"As expected of Hotdog Man..."
Warming themselves by the drum fire.
As I sipped my drink, eavesdropping on the homeless chatter,
Michael added one more thing.
"But honestly, I'm not that fond of androids."
"Why."
"Hmm..."
Michael scratched his chin at my question.
"Like most androids, very few have perfectly implemented emotions. That's why some people prefer used ones."
"Used? Ugh, the horns on their heads..."
"...Pardon?"
"Anyway, so."
Michael tilted his head slightly, composing himself before continuing.
"...Ahem. Since you know I worked for a corporation, I'll say this: Every android I've seen felt like 'humans who weren't properly socialized.'"
"Like psychopaths?"
"More like sociopaths. Extremely individualistic tendencies, I'd say."
Michael seemed to recall old memories.
He looked up at the cloudy sky.
"At first, I thought it was just corporate androids, but coming down here, it's not only that."
"Now I'm curious. I haven't seen a proper android yet—"
That's when
one of the homeless shouted loudly.
"...Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!!"
Our eyes naturally turned that way.
A man dressed like the other homeless stared blankly at the yelling one.
"Pardon? Did I do something wrong?"
"You psycho, is that what you're saying now..."
The man held a ton of expired discarded food I'd pulled from the warehouse.
It looked like more than what I'd given Liberra at first.
"If you hog that much alone, what are the rest of us supposed to eat!"
"Well, that's the latecomer's fault. There's no city law limiting how much one person can take. The store owner just dumped warmed food here, and we're just picking up trash."
"Can't you see there are other people here, you bastard? Did you sell your conscience to a junk shop?!"
The homeless pounded his chest in frustration, then noticed something odd and yelled.
"Wait, that port on your temple..."
Grabbing the man's collar, he checked the back of his neck.
"Wha-what? I'm reporting you to the police!"
"Where are the cops, you lunatic...? You're right. Not human—an android?"
The man had a barcode on his neck.
Mark of an off-the-shelf product.
"Fuck, I knew it...!"
"Are you discriminating against androids right now? In this day and age, who separates androids from humans..."
"Most of you pull this shit, how am I not supposed to discriminate?!"
The homeless grimaced.
"...Wait. Androids don't even eat food. Why the hell are you taking so much?"
The android man tilted his head.
"...? What strange talk. Obviously, to sell to others. That's how I make money and maintain my body. Whether eating or selling food, the consumption process is the same, so no issue."
"This madman..."
Hearing the android's argument,
I understood why Michael disliked androids.
Michael sighed deeply beside me.
"See what I mean?"
"Gives me a headache..."
Not even ramen beggars, but robot beggars.
The world had truly gone mad.
As the two of us sighed,
right nearby,
Liberra, who had been keeping watch without presence, began to show a hollow glint in her eyes.
Like opaque glass beads.
"......"
If Abel, who saw her as a normal kid, had seen it, he'd freak out at how scary her eyes looked.
And the end of that gaze was.
'...As long as no one finds out, it'll be fine.'
Directed at the still-causing-commotion android.