Cyber ​​Ghost Record

Chapter 109, Section 108: The Organization

Sog discovered that this place was not quite what he had imagined.

This place wasn't as bad as he'd imagined; at least this hunting game wasn't truly about killing people. The prey were indeed real people, but their bodies were provided by the hunting grounds, so even if they were hit in a vital spot, they wouldn't necessarily die. If they had to say what they'd lost, it might be their dignity. But to talk about dignity in front of them, setting aside whether that concept has even disappeared, is practically the same as asking, "Why don't they eat meat porridge?"

Socrates felt an indescribable discomfort. Ever since entering this hunting ground, he had been suppressing his anger, which grew stronger as he spoke with the executor and clashed with the White Ghost. But then, he was pricked by a needle, and his anger dissipated instantly.

As the waiter said, it was a voluntary game, with both the hunter and the prey participating voluntarily.

"Voluntary and forced voluntary are both voluntary..." Sog repeated this sentence in his mind, this time not to mock anyone, but to himself.

He looked at the boy, then at the nearby display well. He thought he had saved the child's life, but his decision not to fire resulted in the child suffering a negative judgment.

"So, I didn't really need to go through all that trouble."

The boy didn't respond to Soger's words. He observed Soger's expression, trying to discern the hunter's true intentions. Cats enjoy toying with mice, and hunters also toy with their prey; from beginning to end, it's all a game. He wasn't unfamiliar with traps baited with "goodwill" and "hope."

The boy's silence was tantamount to tacit agreement in Soger's eyes. Soger was certain he had done something foolish. To the Executor and the White Ghost, his behavior was probably clownish. His hand instinctively reached for the pocket containing the pillbox; this action had become a conditioned reflex—whenever he was in a bad mood, he wanted one. This was a sign of addiction. He paused, then withdrew his hand.

"No, it's not unnecessary," the boy said, as if he had made up his mind.

“I’m so grateful to you, you saved me…” He looked at Suger nervously, “I felt this was really necessary for me…”

Suger paused for a moment, then after two seconds, he suddenly smiled with relief.

“I thank you too.” He patted the boy on the shoulder and shook his head. “However, no one can save anyone else.”

The boy didn't grasp the true meaning of those words, staring blankly at Suger, the hunter's shoulder shielding him from the white light of the operating lamp. An hour earlier, the boy had witnessed a similar scene: a figure standing in the cold wind, with the dawn's light behind him.

The boy felt a strange emotion, subtle and understated, yet as hard as iron. It was as if a fire was burning in his chest.

He didn't know where this feeling came from, but a strong intuition told him that he could trust the man in front of him.

"You..." The boy's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Suger found it a little strange; the child seemed to have something to say, but he didn't urge him.

"You need to be careful," the boy said.

Suger frowned in confusion and subconsciously glanced around.

"Be careful of what?" he asked.

"The person with you... that person..." The boy's voice was low and his speech was extremely fast, his words halting and fragmented, as if he hesitated before continuing with each word, "White Ghost..."

"What's wrong with him? Don't be nervous, tell me slowly."

"He'll be in trouble soon, very soon."

"I heard? Who said that?" Sog thought for a moment, "The spirits will cause him trouble?"

"The Spiritual Society? No, no..." The boy shook his head repeatedly, "The Spiritual Society is just, uh, a kind of..."

“A loose organization,” Sog said. “They have no real armed forces, they have influence, but nobody is really afraid of them.”

"Yes, probably, more or less." The boy nodded.

"Who's causing him trouble?" Soger asked.

The boy pursed his lips, offering no reply; his suggestion had already been risky. He changed the subject:

"Everyone's saying that he's going to be in trouble because he's working for the Deer Valley Group."

“Lugu Group…” Su Ge’s expression was strange.

“I just wanted to remind you that I’ve met someone who was like you.” The boy paused. “His end wasn’t good.”

"like me?"

These words struck a nerve with Suger, who had once heard a woman at a Spiritual Society gathering talk about someone who resembled him.

In which aspects?

“In what ways… uh, I mean, he’s a ‘good guy’ too,” the boy said.

"do you know him?"

"I only know him. He fell out with his employer because he refused to sell fake medicine."

As he said this, the boy also glanced at Su Ge subconsciously.

Suger roughly understood; the child was trying to remind him that in the rules of the underworld, good people don't have good endings.

“The person you’re talking about won’t do too badly,” Suger said.

The boy pursed his lips, offering no rebuttal.

“I’m not saying good people get good rewards,” Socrates said. “Scarce commodities are always valuable. Since good people are scarce, they have an advantage. The same principle applies to the other side.”

“He’s already in trouble,” the boy said.

"he died?"

"Anyway, he disappeared."

"You said he looks a lot like me, what other characteristics do you have?" Sug pressed. "Does he stand out from the crowd? Or rather, does he not have any prosthetics?"

“I don’t know.” The boy shook his head. “I’ve only heard of him…” “Who is his employer?” Sug continued to ask.

"I'm not quite sure..." the boy's voice trailed off.

“Alright, that’s settled then.” Soger knew he couldn’t pry any deeper here. He glanced at the cryogenic chamber storing the torso. “You usually live here?”

“I just work here.” The boy understood the purpose of Suger’s question. Suger obviously had other things to ask, but this was not the place to talk. “I live at 1009 Shawei Street, there’s an underground beet greenhouse there.”

“Okay.” Su Ge nodded and got up from his chair.

"You..." The boy also stood up, "Can I know who you are?"

You'll find out when you have the chance.

Suger turned and left.

Under the white light of the operating lamp, the boy's face looked somewhat pale.

Socrates left the basement and went up the stairs. He didn't go to the dining room; after leaving the hall, he stood under the eaves gazing at the distant foothills.

The day and night cycle here is twice as fast as outside. The sun has already risen completely, and the rapidly changing temperature makes the wind blow fiercely, blowing his hair and clothes into disarray.

"Not feeling well?" The executive officer walked up from behind. "Would you like to have a check-up arranged?"

"It's not necessary."

"It's alright, we have a partnership, and the group is obligated to provide you with medical support."

This was said in a very tactful way; what the executive really meant was that Suger had an obligation to protect the image of the Deer Valley Group. This ruthless display of human warmth perfectly captured the essence of Chinese subtlety, which Suger found somewhat frightening. This digital being was more adept at social interaction than most people he had ever met.

"It's just a side effect of hibernation. The security bureau checked it for me, and there's nothing seriously wrong," Sug said again, trying to deflect the issue.

The executive smiled slightly and did not press the matter further.

"You've seen the prey."

"seen."

"They won't really get hurt, you should feel better now."

"I'm okay."

“You are very adaptable. In fact, you can fully integrate into this era. You don’t lack anything, you just need to… change some of your mindset.”

“I’ve changed a lot.” Sog exhaled a puff of white breath. “A lot of things in my head are outdated, and I can’t change them overnight. For a while after I came out of the hibernation pod, I didn’t know what to do, but now I’ve figured out a lot of things.”

“Sure,” the executive said with a smile. “It seems our cooperation will go smoothly.”

"of course."

Suger responded with a smile.

A cold wind blew, and a gunshot rang out in the distance.

He looked toward the distant foothills where a flock of startled birds was taking flight from the canopy.

Another round of the game has begun.

……

Holographic posters of hunting games float between the buildings.

Shen Ke gazed at the reflection of the fir forest outside the skyrail window, while Su Ge sat in the stainless steel seat opposite her.

"How was your gaming experience this time?"

"This kind of place should not exist."

“Then destroy it.” Shen Ke’s green eyes gleamed. “The simulated dome that controls it has hundreds of millions of short-arc lamps integrated there, filled with high-pressure xenon gas. Just detonate a few in each matrix, bang.” Her lips moved. “The entire sky will explode, and in a dozen minutes, it will become a scorching hell.”

Suger didn't respond.

"Are you really going to ruin the Lugu Group's business?" Shen Ke asked again.

"Not yet." Su Ge shook his head.

"Stop it." Shen Ke glanced at him. "You're meddling in this and that, all to find your 'organization'." She looked out the window, where a group of guardian deities, protecting a gilded bodhisattva on the back of a blue elephant, flew past between the tall buildings.

"You're a bit obsessed."

Several months have passed, and Suger has found no trace of the organization.

He only understood the tip of the iceberg of this city. In those high-rise buildings, tens of millions of citizens locked themselves in their own virtual worlds, forming the majority of human society. The city's underclass was a marginalized society where undocumented individuals lived, without identity or human rights. People implanted prosthetics in the struggle for survival, needed drugs to modify their bodies, intensified competition to buy drugs, and in the process, gradually discarded their cumbersome physical bodies, in an endless cycle.

The gods and Buddhas ignored these sufferings, or perhaps they intentionally allowed a hellish place to perfect the cycle of reincarnation. If the organization still existed, it certainly wouldn't stand idly by, but here there is no struggle or resistance, only stagnant water.

Reason told Suger that the organization might have disappeared or even been assimilated.

"Maybe," he said.

“What are you going to do?” she said, “if your ‘organization’ is already gone.”

“Then I am the organization,” he said.

(End of this chapter)