Transmigrated into Conan, his ability is Rhodes Island

A single bit is encapsulated along with other information at the application layer of the Hiroki computer, from data segments to data packets, and finally to data frames. At the physical layer, it becomes a torrent of bits, oscillating and traveling through copper cables in the form of sound waves, traversing cities and villages, being demodulated, unpacked, and restored, and transmitting the information to the other end of the computer screen.

Akihara Kazumitsu was sitting at his desk, one hand supporting his chin and the other resting casually on the table. The slight upturn of his lips showed that he was in a good mood.

System: ...You just opened that box called Ark, right?

Akihara then straightened up, picked up the mouse, and clicked a few times to close the page that had been displaying Hiroki's IP address, entry information, passport copy, and so on.

"What kind of talk is that? This is a scholar's business. Can you call that opening a box? This is, well, some small social work activities carried out without infringing on the interests of others."

The system clicked its tongue, expressing its strong condemnation of the host Schrödinger's sense of morality.

Besides, it increasingly felt that apart from being called out for casual chats, it was practically just a... operator ability activator! Its own value-added services, such as the memory reading card that appeared at the beginning and which it had almost forgotten about, were never used by its host!

Sometimes, it's not a good thing for a host to be too omnipotent.

The system posted this message with deep sorrow on the "System Home" forum.

"How come you know everything! Medicine and natural disaster studies, tactical planning and command, Originium adaptation research, management and leadership, mental and psychological health, technical support and equipment innovation... Are you also going to tell me that you study quantum physics and ancient literature in your spare time?" the system scolded irritably.

“…” Akihara was silent for a moment.

"No way, you actually have something!" the system groaned. "Isn't there anything I can do that you can't, to improve my pitiful performance rating?"

Akihara Kazumitsu chuckled, "Don't underestimate yourself like that. In some ways, you are truly irreplaceable."

The system had never heard a kind word from this person before. Its eyes lit up, and it quickly asked, "Oh? Tell me quickly, what is it?"

"Without you, my吐槽 (tu cao, a form of online commentary/criticism) would only be able to be done by myself, just like Kern, and I would definitely choose to end the story much earlier because I would have nothing to say..."

system:……

It knows that it should never expect to hear anything nice from its host.

……

It's a beautiful day; birds are singing, and flowers are blooming. In the peaceful Chinatown of Shizuoka, Mr. Akai, a U.S. Army soldier stationed in Japan who vows to protect the people of Japan, is buying groceries.

Why did this happen...? Before infiltrating the organization, I had mentally prepared myself for the extreme risks, for the possibility of walking on thin ice and facing death. I even foresaw that I would face the fate of either personally ending my comrades' lives or being ended myself. But why...?

Why is he staring at the stall owner like that right now?

The stall owner was a middle-aged Chinese man whose skin was a healthy tan from the neon sunlight and the long-term smell of cooking. His worn white apron was speckled with meat juices and bloodstains. He stuck his boning knife into the cutting board and was looking the uninvited customer who had just made his order up and down.

Clearly, as a fellow practitioner of Mr. Zheng Tu, the victim from a thousand years ago, the stall owner understands this joke better than Shuichi Akai.

Only when Shuichi Akai's expression shifted slightly did the shopkeeper speak with a serious expression. "This customer... do I look like someone who commits heinous crimes and bullies men and women?"

Akai Shuichi:?

"I've always been a philanthropist, a good role model of Lei Feng, loyal to the Party and the country, and steadfast in my principles... I'll carry elderly women across the street whenever I see them... Although I've been complained about several times for this, my heart is warm!" The stall owner said, tapping the knife handle lightly with his fingers, as if to say, "If you can't reason with me, I know a little about knife skills."

"Besides, you look unfamiliar, sir. We shouldn't have met before. Since we have no grudges or enemies, why are you causing me trouble?"

Akai Shuichi:?

Okay, although I can't fully understand what the stall owner is saying, I'm certain that Su Dai is indeed up to no good.

Shuichi Akai sighed softly, handed over a few banknotes, and then patiently began to explain:

I'm not trying to cause trouble, I won't renege on my debts, and I certainly won't ask if the meat is cooked through. I'll just tell the stall owner to do it with peace of mind.

The stall owner took the banknotes with some skepticism, checking them several times against the sunlight before putting them down. His tone was much more relaxed as he said to Akai Hideaki, "Let me make this clear first, there's no such thing as 'inch of gold and soft bone' (meaning something like that).

Then, he happily took the meat, put it on the scale, and while chatting with Shuichi Akai, he cut the meat into several pieces and threw it into the meat grinder.

Thanks to modern technology, he didn't have to suffer like his predecessor, who toiled away for an entire hour, only to be beaten until his eyes were split open, his pupils slid in and out, and his face was stained...

During this time, he finally understood from the other party's few words that he seemed to have been tricked by a senior colleague in the company. After sighing, he began to stand up for Shuichi Akai indignantly and strongly condemn that senior colleague.

Akihara: Achoo!

Finally, the stall owner, while slicing off a piece of meat, summarized: "But young man, don't be discouraged. That's life. No one's life is always smooth sailing. There's an old saying in our country: 'When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a person, it first tests their resolve, strains their muscles and bones, starves their body, empties their resources, and frustrates their endeavors, so that they may be moved to patience and perseverance, and thus increase their abilities.'"

Shuichi Akai, who had been inexplicably given a political education lesson, could only nod and accept the two large bags of meat sauce, full of philosophical insights, under the eager gaze of the stall owner.

Just as Shuichi Akai was about to politely thank him, a commotion suddenly erupted from the street. The two looked in the direction of the sound and saw a young man in a blue and white striped hospital gown running ahead, with a group of people dressed as medical staff chasing after him—a vibrant and harmonious scene.

The young man ran while looking back, waving a tattered philosophy book he seemed to have picked up from somewhere, shouting: "Destroy human tyranny! The world belongs to Dionysus! The world will ultimately belong to us, the followers of Dionysus! Freedom and revelry are the true meaning of life!"

Look how passionate and enthusiastic they are, several times more so than a Japanese congressman's public address—after all, one knows he's just making empty promises, while the other genuinely believes he's carrying out some kind of sacred mission.

The medical staff were clearly used to this scene. They were panting, their voices tinged with helplessness: "Mr. Mitsumura, stop it. Everyone's watching! We need to go back to the mental hospital for our medication!"

Some passersby stopped to watch the farce with curiosity, while others hurried past, as if such scenes were commonplace in Shizuoka's Chinatown.

"What a lively day!" the stall owner remarked, wiping his hands on his apron.