Cyber ​​Ghost Record

Chapter 1: Awakening

It was June 23, 2243, a gloomy midnight.

The lingering moonlight through the gaps in the clouds seemed to cling on as before, and the new day was slow to arrive.

In the heart of the Huanghuai Plain, in the night sky over Yingchuan City, a flock of thousand-year-old cranes soared over the palace atop the city, circling endlessly.

This was already more than two thousand meters above the ground, a heavy rain was brewing, and dark clouds were surging. The thick red pillars and sutra pillars pierced through layers of gloom, the spires and eaves tore through the swirling clouds, and lightning rumbled beside the claws and teeth of the roof beasts.

The weather robots cleaned every crevice of the red walls and black tiles, and finally began to condense rainwater.

Rainwater, mixed with incense ash, falls onto the skylights crisscrossing between high-rise buildings, passing through the projections of various gods and Buddhas. When they touch the streets at the city's bottom, they dissipate into plumes of smoke and heat.

Water vapor quickly spread, and the wind from the high-rise buildings whipped up trash. Ubiquitous holographic advertisements were like wandering ghosts, and neon signs were crowded together like playing cards on a gambling table.

In a dark corner of the street, the lights of the "Yingchuan City Hongshan Sanatorium" diffused a cool light with a high color temperature.

Inside the sanatorium, two caregivers were whispering to each other over a ward at the end of the corridor.

They had seen all sorts of bizarre cases, but this newcomer still aroused their long-dormant curiosity.

"He's really not a modern person?"

"No, I heard it was people from two centuries ago."

Two centuries ago?

"Yeah, it seems like it came in... 2027?"

……

They can alter reality, but they cannot alter thought.

Suger stared at the ceiling of the ward, repeating the sentence in his mind over and over again.

He had been awake for a while, but he had slept for so long, as if he had endured a long, harsh winter, his memories like undercurrents beneath the ice. He had forgotten what his family looked like, and even what he himself looked like. Only this sentence, like a silver carp swimming beneath the ice, was crystal clear, every single scale distinct.

These were Wu Shushi's instructions to him just moments before he went into hibernation.

Wu Shushi is an academician of the Chinese Academy of Engineering and an ACM academician. He is Su Ge's mentor and superior. But the reason why he engraved this sentence in his heart is not only because of this.

More importantly, this statement was also the guiding principle of that war.

It was a secret war, so secret that he didn't even know who the enemy was.

His time in the war was, after all, too short.

Although he was called up at the beginning of the war, due to some special circumstances, he had to take on a heavier mission.

You are tasked with bringing the truth to life twenty years from now; this is a crucial mission assigned to you by the organization.

At that time, Wu Shushi told him these words outside the hibernation room.

He remembered clearly that Wu Shushi's eyes held an indescribable pessimism, yet also a faint hope. The academician seemed resigned to the impending failure, placing his hopes on the "truth" that would only unleash its power twenty years later.

Right, what was that "truth"? Socrates tried to recall, but his head throbbed with pain. It took him a while to recover, and he was as weak as a drowning man.

How long did I sleep?

There was no one else in the ward. He was just talking to himself when someone immediately replied:
"You have been asleep for 216 years."

The voice was gentle, reliable, yet distant, as if carrying a hint of disinfectant—conforming to most people's stereotypical image of a nurse. Suger instinctively looked for the source of the voice, and then he understood the meaning behind the words.

"what?"

"Your hibernation lasted 216 years, 2 months, and 4 days," the voice said.

Suger froze. The number 216 hit him like a bullet.

He imagined waking up to the soft light of an emergency room, a group of medical staff anxiously monitoring his vital signs. Once his condition stabilized, the organization's leaders had been waiting outside for a long time, gently telling him to rest and recover first. But he couldn't wait a moment longer. After completing his mission, he wanted to rebuild his life. Twenty years had passed; his parents' hair was probably all white. And his fiancée. He didn't want to hold her back, and she and he had promised to marry twenty years from now.

But now the ward is very empty, there isn't even a bouquet of flowers.

He was fully awake.

"Isn't it 2047 now?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Su."

The nurse patiently explained:

"According to the contract you signed with Bit Travel, the company that provides hibernation services, they were indeed supposed to provide you with hibernation awakening services on September 12, 2047. However, the company went bankrupt in 2044, and the Future Gate project, to which the hibernation business you purchased belonged, was subsequently auctioned off and transferred to a company..."

Suger's ears were ringing.

He only understood a few key words: the company providing hibernation services had gone bankrupt, and the project had been passed around among many businesses and government agencies. It was either used for medical research or humanitarian advocacy. The same ball, repackaged more than ten times, had been kicked around for over two hundred years.

This can't be happening, it shouldn't be like this. He had an important mission; the organization would surely have called him back, but why...?

"Finally, the Redhill Medical Association brought this century-old project to a close by providing you with a hibernation induction service. The Redhill Medical Association broadcast your hibernation induction process live, and in return, the Medical Association cured your pancreatic cancer."

Oh, right, pancreatic cancer. Hearing those three words, Suger vaguely remembered another reason for his hibernation.

At that time, almost all electronic devices were banned within the organization. He relied on four or five cups of coffee a day and less than three hours of sleep to complete the work that should have been done by computers, and then he was diagnosed with the disease during a medical examination.

He used to fantasize about regaining his health, but now that the moment has come, he feels only bewilderment. He tries to move to the edge of the bed to get up and walk around, but his body feels rusty and he can hardly move.

“Your physical condition is recovering well, Mr. Su, but you still need exercise assistance. I have activated your exoskeleton.”

As the nurse spoke, Suger's hospital gown tightened a little.

“If you want to adjust it yourself, you can also rotate the collar button of the hospital gown,” she added.

Suger hesitated for a moment, then stood up easily.

He looked down in surprise, but then his attention was diverted to something else—a shadow was reflected in the mirror in the corner of the ward, shrouded in a gray and white striped hospital gown, so thin it was almost unrecognizable.

He paused for a moment, then walked to the mirror.

The reflection in the mirror was unshaven, with long, disheveled hair and vacant eyes, like a ghost.

He could hardly recognize himself anymore; more than two hundred years had passed, and everything had vanished into the past.

But who should be held accountable to him—the companies and government departments that are passing the buck, or the organizations?

He unconsciously clenched his fists, and his breathing gradually became rapid.

"Hibernation," "truth," "mission," "organization," "enemy"—a jumble of words floated intermittently in his mind, as if mixed with distorted electrical sounds.

Suddenly, a sense of foreboding flashed through his mind.

No, how can we be sure this is more than two hundred years in the future?

How could you so easily believe that voice?

What if this is an enemy trap, an enemy trying to break down his psychological defenses—in order to steal that "truth"?

A barely perceptible glimmer appeared in his dull eyes.

The long period of hibernation had frozen his brain, otherwise he wouldn't have been so careless.

But coincidentally, his vulnerability can mislead the enemy.

He screamed hysterically, smashed a mirror with his fist, and was knocked back several steps. He then tried to grab a sturdy chair, failed, kicked the chair hard, and finally fell flat on his back, panting and staring at the ceiling.

After doing all this, he said:

"I need to make a call."

The nurse did not respond, seemingly assessing his mental state.

"Telephone!"

Suger stiffened his neck, his face flushed red, and he pounded the floor twice.

"Okay, your request has been received."

The nurse said, "Please put on the 'Vision' next to your pillow. It looks like a black eye patch."

Suger found the "eye patch" she had mentioned.

The device felt rough and gelatinous, like sharkskin, with cartilage support inside. Once worn, this cartilage support structure covered the area from the temporal fossa to the occipital bone, feeling almost weightless and conforming perfectly to his skin. He only felt two slight protrusions pressing against the mastoid bones behind his ears; this sensation quickly disappeared. His vision was first obscured by darkness, then immediately became crystal clear; some parameters shifted at the corner of his eye, but he could only make out the date and time.

The next moment, a beautiful nurse appeared beside the hospital bed. She seemed to have been standing there all along, with her hair tied in a gentle bun and wearing a well-fitting white jacquard dress that went past her knees.

She smiled apologetically at the startled Suger and said, "Hello, Mr. Suger."

Suger realized that "Vision" was what she called the VR headset, and that she was just a virtual image.

He couldn't find anything unreal about her.

However, he was no longer in the mood to pay attention to these things.

"How do I do it?" he asked.

"You can operate it using eye movements or voice commands."

Suger felt the nurse's instructions were too simplistic, and then discovered that the operation of the blindfold was surprisingly simple.

As he adjusted the goggles, the nurse added:

"Mr. Su, this kind of device is actually very unsafe and inconvenient. We suggest you replace it with a more portable optical prosthetic eye, and it would be best to also install a brain-computer interface. Of course, replacing the device requires funds, and you are currently in abject poverty. But you only need to sell a portion of your biological body to get out of your current predicament. The day before you woke up, the Zhong Group sent you a letter of intent. They want to acquire a portion of your endocrine system. They are conducting research on human metabolism, and as a hibernator, you have considerable scientific research value."

The nurse's tone was gentle, but the information she conveyed was so impactful that even though Su Ge clearly understood what she meant, he couldn't help but ask in surprise, "Acquire what?"

“We’ll acquire a portion of your endocrine system,” the nurse said with a patient smile. “If you agree, in addition to paying a substantial sum, the Zhong Group offers a special deal: they’re willing to replace your brainstem and limbic system free of charge. This way, you’ll have complete control over your emotions and will only need to sleep for twenty minutes a day.”

Socrates felt a chill run down his spine, and some horrifying images flashed through his mind: his organs and body tissues were displayed on shelves, clearly priced, and customers would casually pluck a string of intestines or half a brain.

He immediately dialed the number, but his hands were trembling. What if he heard a message saying the number was not in service, or a dial tone that would never be answered?
Even though he was extremely anxious, he didn't immediately reveal his true intentions. He first tried contacting his family, then his friends, and each failure diminished his hope. After dozens of calls, he finally dialed the contact information provided by the organization.

The call was answered immediately.

"Who?" the other person asked.

"Sun Zhigang?" Su Ge tried to keep his tone calm.

"Huh? No, you typed it wrong."

“I’m Su Ge. We ate at the Beiyuan Restaurant before. The one on Chang’an Street, ah, no, the one at No. 32 Xiangshan Street,” Su Ge said, emphasizing each word.

"You've dialed the wrong number." The other party disconnected the call.

Suger stared at the prompts on the screen, the call just now seemingly having exhausted all his strength.

He wasn't on guard against eavesdropping. This was a coded exchange; if successful, the other party would transmit intelligence to him using another encrypted method, and then…

That was the end of it; the first step failed.

No, there must still be hope, Socrates told himself silently. Perhaps the enemy had forged the communications.

The faint sound of wind and rain could be heard outside the window.

Socrates turned his head and saw a hazy neon light floating in the rain and mist. Even now, he still didn't know what the world had become.

"I'll go out and see."

He walked toward the ward door.

"I suggest you rest for a few more days and don't overexert yourself," the nurse said, stopping him. "Besides, it's dangerous outside."

"Danger?" Sog stopped in his tracks.

"Your response to all forty-five major vaccines has been good, but your immune system is not yet ready to adapt to modern pathogens. Most importantly, you..."

Before the nurse could finish speaking, Suger walked past her to the door.

"You are powerless against demons and monsters!" she raised her voice.

“Demons and monsters?” Su Ge stopped, raising his eyebrows as he looked at the nurse.

"This might mislead you. In the past, people might have preferred to define them using a less accurate term."

“Cyber ​​Ghost,” she said.

"Cyber ​​Ghost!"

Soger's cold laugh carried a hint of denial; it was entirely a subconscious defensive act. His body was already extremely weak, and his mind refused to accept any more impactful information; only in this way could he protect his crumbling worldview.

He pushed open the door, ignoring the nurse's calls, and stepped into the corridor.

He started walking quickly, but when he heard the caregiver calling out behind him, he quickened his pace and gradually started jogging.

The alarm went off at the sanatorium.

Suger took off running.

The ward area was on the first floor. He passed through more than a dozen doors, turned a corner in the corridor, and finally saw the exit.

The sounds outside the door grew clearer and closer.

Amidst the sounds of wind, rain, and thunder, solemn ceremonial music resounded, the grand tones seeming to emanate from the depths of time, transcending the boundaries of history and reality, striking his heart one after another.

He suddenly felt a sense of fear, and before he could figure out what he was afraid of, he rushed out into the wind and rain.

……

Countless skyscrapers lift palaces, temples, and monasteries into the clouds, where colossal figures sit and recline. They ride on white elephants, stand on lotus thrones, hold swords, and wear skulls on their wrists... employing almost every image of majesty and transcendence.

Thunder rumbled at their feet, and torrential rain poured down upon them as they looked down with mercy.

In the dark corners of the city's underbelly, that tiny ghostly figure looked up in despair.

This is definitely not twenty years from now.

He finally collapsed to the ground, and what truly broke him was the overwhelming sense of loneliness that pressed in from all sides.

Everything is gone—his life, his mission, everything about him.

“Mr. Soger, if you do not return, we will consider taking coercive measures. Now, please…”

"Go back where?"

"what?!"

With a snap, the blindfold was thrown against the wall and rolled into the sewage.

The heavy rain blurred his vision and flowed into his nostrils.

He coughed violently and bent over in pain.

The rain grew colder, and the neon lights and sounds gradually faded away.

A faint call came from the wind and rain:
“Suger…”

He thought it was a nurse speaking, but then he heard the voice say:

"Comrade Su Ge..."

Socrates' eyes widened!

A flash of lightning illuminated the world as bright as day.

Various kinds of garbage were scattered in the corner, and the eye mask lay on a religious leaflet in this dirty corner, while the blue strip light shone steadily.

Inside the sanatorium, two caregivers rushed out with sedatives.

Suger coughed violently, but he used both hands and feet to crawl desperately across the sewage, picked up the goggles, and put them on.

This action exhausted his last bit of strength.

The next moment, he saw a figure appear in the wind and rain, wearing a military uniform, with graying temples and three five-pointed stars on the olive branch epaulettes.

This is a general; his shoulders and back block out the countless gods and Buddhas in the sky, and his cold eyes reveal a gentle meaning.

“We’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Comrade Suger.”

(End of this chapter)